Another aircraft wanted to descend for rescue, but the conditions clearly wouldn't allow it, so it had to retreat first.
The air was thick with dust.
Alvin York lay not far away, his hand trembled... he slowly lifted his head but couldn't manage to take a proper breath.
"Deputy Commander, Deputy Commander..." The guard anxiously shouted as he spotted him from a distance and ran over, "Where are you hurt?"
"The ribs are broken..."
Alvin York was a seasoned veteran who could sense the extent of his injuries. He grimaced in pain and looked to both sides. Andrew… was lying nearby, but his neck had been sliced halfway through—dead.
The man he'd just been conversing with had died before his very eyes.
A feeling of powerlessness!
This, too, is the cruelty of war!
In urban warfare, you never know when someone might sneak up behind you.
Humanity's greatest tragedy is the inability to decide when to be born and when to die.
