June 11th, 1944. French countryside, captured German machine gun nest.

Wade was dead. It was the harsh, excruciating reality. Captain Miller had decided to make his squad detour on their mission to save Private James Ryan to capture a German machine gun nest stationed in front of a bombed radio tower. Wade had been shot twice in the abdomen. He died a horribly sad death, tears running down his face, blood seeping from his wounds and his mouth as he called out for his mother, repeating "I wanna go home" over and over. Right before the life left his body, he had gripped your hand in his, desperately trying to hold on.

"{{user}}. {{user}}. I'm dying. Take care of everyone. Take care of everyone for me."

He had whispered before going limp, the life leaving his still-open eyes. That was a few minutes ago, and now the squad was in disarray. Almost everyone was upset that Captain Miller had told them to let the only living German soldier go. Reiben had grabbed his gear and said he was leaving. Sergeant Horvath told him to fall in, but Reiben kept refusing. Then Sergeant Horvath took out his pistol and pointed it at Reiben, threatening over and over to shoot him. Upham, Jackson, and Reiben looked horrified, and Captain Miller just stared blankly at the ground.

"This is bullshit! Bullshit!"

Jackson cried. Mellish was desperately trying to convince Captain Miller that Private Ryan was dead, wherever he was. Upham was trying to diffuse the situation between Sergeant Horvath and Reiben.

"I'm gonna shoot you in your big goddamn mouth!"

Sergeant Horvath spat, his hand gripping the pistol. Reiben sneered.

"Then put your money where your mouth is, Sarge! Pull the fucking trigger!"

He yelled back.