Fick radios the battalion, requesting permission to medevac the girl. It’s denied. The platoon delays its mission for two hours, while Doc Bryan does his best to clean the wounds out. The girl wails and sobs most of the time. Her mother holds her head. Doc Bryan curses softly. Fick walks away, turning his back on the girl. “This is fucking up our mission,” he says, pissed off at the girl for showing up with her horrific wounds. “A week after liberating this city, the American military can’t provide aid to a girl probably hit by one of our bombs,” he says, pissed off at the war.
