In a barren desert, surrounded by limitless horizon, there stands a 700 mile perforated barrier separating the haves and the have not's. The sun sets along this rusty fence as a crusty old veteran puffs a cigarette and lowers his binoculars. The day is over, but the cold night is theirs. He lowers the flag, salutes a helicopter passing through the darkness, and settles into his dusty camper for another canned meal alone on Patriot Point.—Nicholas Weissman