The sounds of warriors engaged my senses. Every drill was in order.

Blood, sweat, and tears covered the grass. Liquids—different colored liquids were everywhere. Many of the bottles were marks of trade sold to fuel the troops in battle.

Close enough a wounded warrior lay in pain. The explosion made contact with my ears and, threw my mind, body and spirit into the combat zone. Eye witness reality—[thought] —“they fight for us—our nation.”

Medic Noname, focused straight through me, making an imprint on my total being. I grasped a deeper appreciati...

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