“Pow, Pow,” the shots rang out in the air. My ears felt as if I had been standing right next to the speakers at a Kiss Concert for a week. “HELP ME!” The scream came from Bebop, my mentor since I was first deployed hear. Without Bebop guiding me through this hell of a place I probably wouldn’t have made it through the first week. Legs trembling, knees shaking, I turned to find Bebop’s leg from the knee down separated from the rest of his body. I could see the muscle and bones of his leg as clear as one of them HD TV’s back home. I ran over to him and covered his body in the midst of the chaos. Grenades being flung from every which way and exploding plus heavy machine gun fire had already take the lives about sixty of our soldiers. I prayed to the Lord that Bebop and I would be spared. What I had to do was get Bebop out of firing range. I picked him up into a fireman’s carry and began to run. I could feel the blood from his leg soaking into my uniform. When we were far enough from enemy fire where many other injured soldiers were located I laid him down. I quickly took the rag out of helmet and began to tie it like a tourniquet around Bebop’s leg. Through this whole time he hadn’t stopped screaming. He asked if he was going to be all right, and I lied and said I knew for a fact he was. I thought for sure that he had last too much blood to survive. I grabbed his head in my hands and told him I loved him, and I left to go back in and fight as a medic and now surfaced. As I was leaving all I heard was Bebop calling for me, “BOSTON, BOSTON DON’T LEAVE ME!” My eyes were full of tears now, as I knew that, that might have been the last time I would see my best friend.
I grabbed my M-16 and started firing at the enemy; I wanted revenge so bad for what they did to my best friend. Once tall buildings were now painted with fire and forming piles of ash. The shouts from the screaming wounded echoed in my head. I felt like I was in a nightmare and couldn’t wake up. What had I signed myself up for?
