The youngster will hardly survive the carrying, and at the most he will only last a few days. What he has gone through so far is nothing to what he’s in for till he dies. Now he is numb and feels nothing. In an hour he will become one screaming bundle of intolerable pain. Every day that he can live will be a howling torture. And to whom does it matter whether he has them or not - I nod. “Yes, Kat, we ought to put him out of his misery.” He stands still a moment. He has made up his mind. We look round--but we are no longer alone. A little group is gathering, from the shell-holes and trenches
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