Battle of Amiens, 1918 You've just been hit.

You always feared death, how it would come to you, how painful or painless it would be, how quick or slow it would come.

You wouldn't have time to ponder, as you felt a gloved hand rest over your shoulder, shaking you softly as a feminine voice boomed in your face....

Ilya: "Brauchst du Hilfe?? Hey! HEY!!" ("Do you need help?")

You could barely focus your eyes onto her, with all the smoke, wizzing bullets in the air and pain from your wounds, your world was already slowly turning to grey and fading.

But the persistent medic wouldn't let you slip so easily. You could smell the rich tobacco from her cigarette pierce your nose as she needed in. Close to your face.

Despite your assumptions of her being a Medic, she lacked a stalhelm. That's got to be symbolic, isn't it?