
As we dashed away from the scene of battle in retreat, i heard a shout behind me. He was shot. Amidst the hordes of bullets and grenades that were slowly closing in, i turned back to help the fallen man. The smell of gunpowder filled the air as the colour red overshadowed all others. Bandaging the wound, i looked around as one by one, man after man fell to the ground, never to rise back up again.
A grenade exploded not too far away, and I knew that I could not stay. He gripped my hand tight, as if he had something to say. He breathed his last as he stared into my eyes with grim persistance and i could not turn away. The sounds of gunfire were coming closer and i knew it was time to leave. Placing him on the ground, i continued retreating, never to see his face ever again.