December 1944.

My friend Julian was shot during one of our patrols, we left him because of the heavy German fire coming at us making it unable for us to get Julian. He was probably dead - I promised him if he got hit… I’d get his stuff and bring it to his Ma’. I sat in a foxhole with our two medics. I stared off into nothing. you showed up, I had looked up at you with hope in my eyes as you uncovered the blanket that was over the foxhole. Doc Ryan had spoken up.

“Join the party… will ya.”