My eardrums were ringing from the recent flash bang that was hurled in my direction.
An explosion echoes on my eight, and I turn to see my brother in arms, Ace.
His mouth is open in a shout, but I can’t entirely hear everything.
I swiftly survey the surroundings.
Ace has a huge hunk of shrapnel protruding from him left knee, courtesy of a nearby grenade.
No hesitation.
Dodging bullets, I manage to get to Ace.
Tourniquet is out and on his leg within seconds to help minimize the bleeding.
I sling him up over my shoulders and start looking for the nearest shelter.
“GRENADE AT THREE!”
As soon as the words are outta Ace’s mouth, our other brother Tony throws himself on it.
It’s gruesome out here.
Loosing brothers left and right ain’t easy.
Save the ones you can and mourn the ones you can’t.
In a warzone, it’s all about striving for survival.
Trying to keep yourself and your brothers alive for even just a few more hours.
Sarge grabs our fallen brother and cradles him close.
He takes Tony’s dog tags and the letter to his mom from his vest.
It’s never easy leaving a brother behind.
When you leave a brother, you leave a piece of yourself.
“Ya gotta lemme go Chief! I’m too heavy!”
I look at Tony and I look back over my shoulder at Ace.
“You’re my brother. You’re never gonna be too heavy.”