“I was beginning to wonder what happened to you,” Rolf said.
“We had a few guests,” I replied. “Take the rifles. I'll carry the machine g*n. Rolf, you take the ammunition.” Only one of the Germans had a great coat. The other had a scarf wrapped around his helmet, an extra sweater on under his tunic and torn gloves with the fingertips cut off. I hefted the machine g*n on to my shoulder and stalked off, not giving the dead another glance. The others picked up the gear and followed.
We found that Yuri had passed out.
“He's lost a lot of blood,” said Rolf.
“See if you can get anyone on the radio. We may have to carry him out.”
The T-34 lay disabled. We transported Yuri through the woods on a stretcher fashioned out of two poles and some canvas. Yuri remained unconscious but moaned in his
