"I'm hit, too," Rashid said. "Don't stop if you can move."
Listen to him. What's he got, a sprained ankle?
But he didn't feel any pain. He closed his eyes and threw himself onto his stomach. And nearly fainted from pain. He screamed and quivered. The pain stopped. He stretched out his hands, gripping the wine bottles, and inched forward. Pain stabbed him from stomach to knee.
"I can't move, Sarge."
"Read, you've got to. I think you're the only—"
"What?"
Guns clattered. Bullets cracked.
"Sergeant Rashid! Answer me."
He heard nothing but the lonely passage of the bullets in the mist.
"I'm a UN man," he mumbled. "You people up there know what a UN man is? You know what happens when you meet one?"