Comment(s) Note:  We have received emails from some of our loyal readers who took the time to let us know about the multiple inaccuracies within this article.  The staff of Special Weapons for Military and Police and always value what our readers have to say and we thank you for your continued support.

What we failed to indicate in print is that this article was meant to be a 2-part fiction story.  We apologize for the confusion and welcome any real stories you or your fellow comrades may be able to share with us and our other readers.  You can email submissions to [email protected]  We pay $100 per story when chosen to be published in any of our print publications.

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After I got the door closed and barricaded it with furniture, I looked at Cremator’s wound. He had a 2-inch shard of shrapnel sticking out of his neck, but it had mostly stopped bleeding. “I think we should leave it in if it’s not bleeding,” was my non-medical advice.

heli3.jpg“What do you mean leave it in? What in?” was his confused inquiry.
“That piece of RPG sticking out of your neck,” was my matter-of-fact reply.

He reached up and gingerly touched it for the first time and screamed, “Get it out, get it out, I’m gonna die!” With my LCD light, I looked carefully at the wound and the metal did not look like it was embedded too deeply.

“Okay, but be quiet for a minute, I gotta check out the rest of the house. Keep an eye on the door,” was my shred of comforting advice as I stood up to scout out our new digs. An interior row house, it was probably abandoned during the early phases of the fighting, but it had not been looted. I looked around the kitchen and located just what I wanted. We both had Israeli-type battle dressings, which I thought would staunch any bleeding when I performed my “surgery.”

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