I, Private Johnson, had just finished tending to a patient with the flu when my ears rung. It was an explosion, a large one too. Without thinking, he dived for cover. I knew he couldn't die now. I had to live, for my family and the people I care for. The patient would have to tend to themselves, as things were about to get serious. He heard gun shots. Volley after volley of gunshots were fired. All I can hear is gun shot, gun shot, explosion, over and over again. A few bullet bulelts pierced the tent, landing close next to me. I heard yelling in a foreign language. It defiantly wasn't our men as they all spoke american. Then, a man in a gas mask, bandana, and a foreign uniform came rushing in. Fear rippled threw me. He yelled at me in his foreign language and started dragging me to a helicopter. I yelled, "Help! Somebody help!" I had no weapon on me, and I hardly passed basic combat training, so I was unable to defend myself. Seconds after I yelled, I saw the butt of a gun heading towards my face, and then darkness.
To be continued