Blood That Shames the Red, Red Rose

Blood That Shames the Red, Red Rose

“Are you sending me home, ma’am?” he asked, coughing into the damp air, the violent movement sent a fresh flood of claret to struggle against the haphazard field dressing.

“Yes, soldier, you’re going home,” I sighed in contempt, signaling to our radio man to order the medevac to grant this boy the illicit dignity of losing his final breath on American soil.

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