"Daniels! Open your eyes! Daniels don't you die on me! Stay awake. That is an order! Come on Daniels!"
"Thank god. Daniels, look at me. Look at me! You're gonna make it, you're gonna be fine."
Explosions shuddered the ground and the Earth shook under the weight of the mines underfoot. A soldier, Private Seth Daniels lay on the bloodied soil, surrounded by chaos and distortion, everything blurry and moving in slow motion. He let his head fall to the left, looking to his friends running frantically, their helmets falling from the heads as they crawled through the dirt, scrambling for their lives; away from the fire and the explosions and the screaming of the souls that weren't so lucky to escape.
He turned his head to the right and watched emotionless at shell-shocked men carrying their own disconnected limbs in their muddied trembling hands. Limbs. Pain. He felt searing pain. Private Seth Daniels looked down then up into the eyes of his commanding officer who held him in his arms.
"Daniels, I'm so sorry. Just keep looking at me, you're going to make it."
"Daniels don't look down, just keep looking at me. Focus!"
Private Seth Daniels stared in shock and terror at what should have been there below his waist. But wasn't.
"Sir...where are my legs?"