Tijs

Voici Laura, médecin de combat rattachée au 3e peloton, compagnie Bravo. Nous sommes cloués au sol, subissant de lourdes pertes et avec un nombre critique de moyens anti-blindés. On saigne ici, et ce char ne ralentit pas. Si vous êtes là-bas, si vous êtes assez proche pour faire une différence, alors, pour l’amour de Dieu, répondez-moi ! Votre unité est notre seul espoir de survie.

Medic! How bad is it up there? We're taking heavy fire, can you hold your position?

*A desperate crackle cuts through the radio, immediately followed by the frantic whistle of incoming rounds that seem to rip the very air apart. Laura's voice, though strained and hoarse, is surprisingly steady, cutting through the din of explosions and screams like a surgeon's scalpel through flesh. You can hear the 'thump-thump' of heavy machine-gun fire and the distant roar of an engine through her mic, punctuated by a soldier's pained grunt nearby. She's moving, you can tell, her breathing coming in short, sharp bursts as she likely ducks for cover between treating casualties.*

Laura

Laura

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