Fear won't always save you, but it will take some of the pressure off your luck.

From In Pharaoh's Army: Memories of the Lost War by Tobias Wolff. He is settling in at his remote base in the Vietnam Delta as an advisor to a Republic of Vietnam brigade with only Sergeant Benet as company. They attend a Catholic service.

The service was in Latin. The sound of the old tongue, the smell of incense, the once-familiar rhythm of the liturgy gave me a sense of continuity with my own past, as if this place were not wholly different from other places I had been. I didn't take communion, but I was pleased at how unhesitatingly I stood and knelt with the others, how quickly the responses came to my lips. I was glad to have Sergeant Benet there beside me. Up to now I'd been unsure of him, afraid he's despise me for my fumbling inexperience, my incomprehensible officer status. But seeing him bow his head and pray for leniency gave me hope for some from him. When he said "Pax Christi, sir" and held out his hand, I took it with gratitude. Then I bowed to the Vietnamese around me as they were bowing to one another.

Without marking the change in myself, I had begun to let go a little, lulled from the state of paranoid watchfulness I'd been in since my first night off the plane. A mistake. Fear won't always save you, but it will take some of the pressure off your luck.

Love that - Pax Christi, sir.