At different points in the novel, both Train and Angelo experience invisibility, which becomes a significant motif. Train experiences this invisibility as a profound connection with the world beyond him; he feels smarter when he is invisible and can detect the emotions of the world around him, even non-sentient objects. During one invisible moment, Train screams as he experiences the agony of the grass and trees that are struck by bullets. Train sees his invisibility as something that gives him invulnerability and makes him feel safe, even amid the intense dangers of war.

Angelo, by contrast, experiences his invisibility—which he faces once at the beginning and once at the end of the novel—as moments of intense isolation. Though both instances lead him to narrowly escape from death (and possibly revive him after he actually does die), he does not derive the same peace or happiness from his invisible episodes as does Train. Invisibility becomes a gift in the novel, even as it is conferred upon those who suffer a social invisibility (Train as a Black man in America, Angelo as one of many Italian children displaced by war). This invisibility is thus suggested to be a divine gift to innocents who are treated cruelly by the violent world they inhabit.