(6 of 6)
In the mayor's office we found a few of the living wounded that our soldiers had pulled out of the wreckage. On a wooden bench lay the thin form of a girl about ten years old. Her black hair was streaked with grey powder plaster. One of her legs was completely wrapped in bandages which our company had placed there. In her two hands she clutched a cracker which a soldier had given her. She didn't move, but only stared at the ceiling.
On another bench sat a boy about 13, naked save for a pair of drawers. Over his body were red scars where he'd been burned. Our medics had no salve for burns with them, so the boy sat there, shivering from head to foot and in great pain.
For a long while he remained silent, but finally his lips began to tremble, and his body shook with great sobs.
A little girl, not more than eight, sat down on the bench and gently pulled the boy's head down in her lap and stroked his hair. Little bird chirps came from her lips as if she were saying: "Don't cry, don't cry." Chuck Horner was standing by the door with a grim expression on his face. "I never wanted to capture a town more than this in my life. But now. . . ." He made a helpless gesture.