[For some insane reason - insane because there're so many other things he should be focused on first, like sleeping and showering and finding a pair of socks that haven't basically rotted onto his feet - that information makes something relax in his chest. The idea of having somewhere quiet to go to pray and be alone for a while without anyone breathing down your neck is just so far from what's become his norm that the offer's just as overwhelming as a shower and clean clothes. So he still absolutely looks hurt, wounded, but there's some relief in his expression, too.
(He does, somehow, still believe in God and everything else he'd said to Sid's friend Lucky - Leckie? And that thought makes him suddenly wonder how the other marine had gotten out, if believing in ammunition had gotten him through or if he's just turned into another poncho covered body. The thought makes him a little sick, even though he's sure he should be used to it by now.)]
[spam!!]
(He does, somehow, still believe in God and everything else he'd said to Sid's friend Lucky - Leckie? And that thought makes him suddenly wonder how the other marine had gotten out, if believing in ammunition had gotten him through or if he's just turned into another poncho covered body. The thought makes him a little sick, even though he's sure he should be used to it by now.)]
Thank you, sir.