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... ir gas masks after combat wore crazed expressions, sitting scattered two meters apart, clutching their heads, smoking with trembling hands, or blankly staring into space while hugging their guns.

Some sobbed while holding dead comrades' bodies.

The platoon and company commanders weren't much better. Though barely holding it together to handle cleanup, their faces were dark, and one platoon leader was retching.

I quietly recalled the battlefield I'd watched through the dro ...

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