The Captain glanced back at his comrade as the Germans approaches him. It was clearly five to one. He didn't stand a chance.
Blow after blow.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A rifle clicked and fired.
The Germans showed no mercy.
The Captain heart's ached badly. He wept. The rest of the battlalion lowered their chins. A defeated spirit engulfed them once again. They had lost another comrade, one they considered dear.
That was two days back.
Now, the battalion crawled their way to freedom. Feets swollen and infested with blisters. Even breathing was labourous. About a kilometres away, the Captain spotted an outpost bearing an America flag. Their spirits were lifted.
However, a mighty river was in their way. Moving at tremedous speed, the waters had a strange smell. Soon, they figured the smell was blood. It was a bloody river. The blood was not the issue. It was the bitter cold temperature the water bear. One could die, not by drowning but by freezing in this river.
"Brothers, this is the final push." their Captain spoke with shear uncertainty.
"Sir, we have gone through thick and thin with you. Surely we must make it out alive!" one soldier spoke.
The rest nodded; some even laughed in agreement.
"There they are! Get them!" a sudden harsh voice broke the still air.
The Germans caught up with them. Shots were whipping through the air. The brave battalion limped into the freezing waters and wriggled their way to the opposite bank. With bullets whizzing pass them, they push through the current.
The nearby friendly outpost was alerted and sounded the emergency alarm. Soon, scores of soldiers flooded the river and a battle occurred again. Outnumbered, the Germans retreated and another victory was secured.
