"Rollie, you better come over here."
Rollie picked his way around the dead and bomb craters. When he reached Raul, there was no reason to ask his friend what he wanted. Laying on the ground was his brother, barely recognizable through the sweat, grime, and heavy layers of blood and body fluids still oozing from deadly wounds. M.C."s left leg was missing from the knee down and his left arm was nearly severed at the shoulder. His lavender beret was now a rich crimson indicating that beneath it was a serious head wound. In a major city with modern hospital services, M.C."s arm and life could be saved. In the jungle, he had only minutes to live.
Rollie dropped to his knees at his brother"s side. "Can you hear me, M.C.? What are you doing here?"
M.C."s eyes shifted to see his brother"s face
