Amidst this war of torn hearts, smokey air and cries of the callings for a medic. I couldn’t feel my own heart rocketing in my chest, covered by the adrenaline pumping in my veins, the cold goosebumps spreading along my skin. The calloused touch of mine was supposed to help Easy Company. Their blood was supposed to cover my hands, not my own.

My own life-line was like rope, loosely coming undone with each strand. But with a soft embrace, I see the face of an Angel holding me tight. Yours.