We use cookies
When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Your cookies settings
Strictly cookie settingsAlways Active
CHAPTER 14-4
“What do you have?” Brooks said, kneeling. He inspected the nasty bruise and laceration on Andrew’s right side and questioned him about it. Whiteboy and Jackson broke into guffaws at hearing it again. Andrews had been defecating when the F-4s had screamed over and dropped their bombs. He had been hit by a piece of shrapnel from a bomb after the jagged piece of metal had cut in half the tree Andrews was holding to balance himself. Brooks giggled as Whiteboy re-enacted Egan’s dash to help Andrews and his crawl through Andrews’ s**t. Brooks stopped laughing when Jackson held up a razor-sharp plate of steel eight inches across and an inch thick. After the foxholes were dug and the weapons and ammunition were readied for the night, it was time to eat. The atmosphere at the various CPs was like
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD