Two months we held the city. Two months the relentless artillery barrages shook the ground followed by fierce battles. Morale was beginning to run low. The food supplies were now running on reserves and only a few of us knew that it would last only for the next three months.
We counted our losses. Too many lost but more of us died from gangrene and infection than from bullets and bombs.
I remember going to the front lines for combat. The bunkers and pill boxes firing their machine guns and cannons at the enemy who returned fire in kind.
A young man who was about 19 years old got his index finger and thumb blown off by a sniper. I had to immediately tend to his wounds but it was near impossible to reach his position under constant fire. I had to think of a way to get to him as he went into shock from the pain. I told my partner to throw some smoke grenades to conceal my movement. I made a mad dash for my injured comrade and as I ran enemy fighter planes flew over head and executed a strafing attack and flew back at my direction. I slid into a foxhole to avoid detection while the planes flew past and their guns roared and destroyed some of our tanks.
I finally reached him and tried to detect a pulse and only found a faint one. Quickly I patched him up and ran back while carrying him.
Upon reaching my partner, an enemy UGV was attacking a pillbox just 30 feet away from me. The only thing that ran through my mind was will I make it?
Some soldiers managed to flank and destroyed it. I finally put the injured soldier down and contacted a helicopter for medical evacuation.
The battle raged on through the day as we were pushed back to the inner parts of the city. The situation was getting worse and the city would soon fall if we didn't get reinforcements soon.
But we did find some solace as the night after that skirmish was beatuiful and starry. Beauty in a world thrown into chaos and suffering.
ns 15.158.61.39da2
