When my country was attacked, my government called on me as they called on every able-bodied man between 17 and 45. We were drafted, trained, given a rifle and sent forth to defend our lands.

I was assigned to a platoon with a bunch of other guys I've never met and didn't care very much for. Except for one, Zeke. Zeke and I, we just connected, we became fast friends from day one.

But this isn't the story of a friendship blossoming, this is war. As those who crossed our borders approached we lost city after city, battle after battle. We were a small country, we weren't able to defend ourselves against one of the mightiest armies in the world, but we wouldn't go down without a fight!

It came to a halt in Utrecht. Zeke and I were on patrol. The city should've been clear, they were still below the rivers according the lst reports. But then we heard it. It was deafening. Gunfire, rifles firing in rapid succession.

We approached, our weapons ready, our eyes wide open. Taking in as much as we could. And for no reason Zeke just jumped on me, pushing me down. I was taken aback, surprised. Why would he do that. And then I felt the dripping. Drops of red, hot liquid coming down on my cheek.

My friend was laying on top of me, bleeding! I pulled him out of the street into an alley and applied pressure to the wound on his neck. I looked at him, I yelled at him, "Stay with me Zeke!" I slapped him in the face, I yelled more, I slapped, yelled and all the while trying to close the wound.

Until I felt the pumping stop. There was no more blood coming through the gause, and bandages and hand. Zeke was gone, I was alone. I let the wound go and picked him up, holding his head against my chest, just murmering softly, "No, Zeke, don't go." I'd whisper, groan in frustration, argue in madness. But it had no use. He was not with us anymore.

It seemed like days as we sat there, but I know now it was only hours. It was dark when a flashlight was shone in my eyes and questions were asked. They just didn't register. He was gone. Zeke was dead and they were asking questions!

After ten years I know now Zeke saved my life. He spotted the sniper and pushed us both out of sight. But the shooter was faster and had already fired at me, but he caught the bullet just as it was about to hit me.

But Zeke is still gone.