His company was pinned down by fire they could not break. So he went forward—alone—and tore open the enemy’s line.
Wounded at the start of the attack, he refused to fall back. Even after losing a foot, he kept crawling toward the wounded.
The river crossing was complete—but the ground beyond was sown with hidden death. He stepped into it anyway, because men were still out there.
The success of the entire mission depended on one man. Even as he was dying, he forced himself back to the bombsight.
The platoon was trapped in a kill zone, pinned down by fire from every direction. He stood up—and charged straight into it.
A tunnel entrance hid the enemy below—and death at its mouth. When the grenades came, he made his choice in an instant.
Across open ground swept by enemy fire, he carried the wounded on his back. Then he turned around and went back again.
