A Storyby Jason Blum
The dirt was finding its way into the three holes that had ripped into the right side of his neck just above the clavicle. The blood gurgling sounded like water fighting its way down a clogged drain. His breathing was labored. He seemed to realize after a few seconds that his wound was very bad, and panic set in, causing his heart rate to increase and shock to come on. He kept trying to sit up, to shake it off, to say, “I’m okay, I’ll be fine.” When he tried to talk, blood raced out of his mouth. His eyes blinked rapidly, and he tried to shake his head to remain conscious, but the loss of blood was beginning to take his will. Two Navy corpsmen did all they could to put pressure on the dark-red blood that was finding its way out from under the four hands holding down bandages. The fighting was still going on not more than thirty yards away.