Once, around 1982 when I was on leave from the military, I became very ill and went into a local hospital. I shared a room with a WWI vet, I think in his eighties. He was in the army and moved supplies from rear areas to the front by horse-drawn wagon. He said he was sniped at frequently, but they were trying to kill the horses, not him. He would leave them and run away. They left him alone, he felt, so he could bring more horses the next day.
I was on a strict diet as I recovered, but he used to hide the food he didn't eat (he was very thin and didn't eat much) and give it to me after dinner.
Its all about food sometimes!