The projection stayed open over the junction, and it kept moving.
The grey column was still arriving. It came up the eastern side of Baldwin's formation in a line that had no visible end to it, and as James watched, the front of it reached the existing line and turned, and began filling out along the flank — company after company, slotting into gaps that had been left open for them, until the southern half of that field was noticeably deeper than it had been a minute ago.
The panel with Baldwin's name on it sat there in the middle of the projection, and James did not look at it once.
He watched the column.
Those men had walked past him that afternoon. He had personally killed some of them, and had stood on the road with his own dead in a line trying to keep the rest of them from getting through.
Thirty-seven percent of that vanguard had not made it past the marker. Three and a half thousand men were lying in the mud around the junction because Team Zero had been standing on it.
