Help wasn’t coming. With no chance of rescue, Andrew knew he was hopelessly stranded. As he sat there in the dark by himself, his mind began to replay events of the past, and he accepted the inevitable outcome of his current, desperate situation: he was not going to make it home alive. He had survived the landing at Normandy, and three months of brutal fighting across Europe, only to die pointlessly here tonight. Somehow, he had become separated from his unit in the panic and confusion of war, and now the sad waste of it all began to fully sink in. Andrew was frightened, and he lamented under his breath, “I just want to go home. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
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