“The next thing I knew I was wiggling around on the floor,” he said. “I was hurt. It felt like something had hit me on the hip. It hurt like hell. I tried to crawl away.”
The rest of his injuries are mapped out across his body, from the place on his head where a ball bearing was removed, down his thigh still implanted with shrapnel, and on to his fractured lower right leg, swathed in bandages.
On his stomach, his face to the floor, he wormed along, peering through the dim light, only to find himself awash in carnage. “It was pandemonium,” he said. “It was gruesome. There were body parts everywhere.
“I remember crawling over some guy writhing in pain. He was screaming in pain. He was a civilian American. He was bleeding, calling out for help. I climbed over him and crawled underneath a broken table or chair, throwing it out of my way. But the place was destroyed. People everywhere were screaming. It was horrific inside there.”
Leave a Reply