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"Alright Carter now don't screw this up again." Hogan handed Carter a flashlight. The younger member had messed up the last mission and this was his chance to prove himself. Plus it was relatively easy; just bring in some commandoes that had escaped from another Stalag.

Carter climbed out of the tunnel and went to the meeting place. Carter waited for nearly half an hour before he was ready to head back. He stood and turned but stopped when he heard a scream not too far off. He listened. "No, Please! Stop!" The screams of the man were too much for Carter to just stand and listen to. He had to help if he could. He ran through the woods carefully but quickly. He wasn't called Little Dear Who Runs Swift and Sure Through Forest for nothing.

However he stopped abruptly when he saw a light up ahead. He crouched down and slowly went to the bush nearby. Looking through he saw a group of British Commandoes and a group of S.S.

The Commandoes were on the ground covered in blood. The S.S. were standing above them with large blades.

Carter looked closer. Just in front of the bush there was, what looked like, an arm. Carter gagged. He looked to the men on the ground. They had limbs missing and some had been disemboweled. Some were dead and others were nearing it. The head commando was on the ground in front of the group of S.S. They were sneering and laughing. They were obviously drunk. They were just killing for the hell of it and because the men were enemies. They didn't question them. They didn't care to know who the men were and what they were doing. They just wanted the blood on their hands.

Carter watched as the men gathered around the injured man. Three held him down while the other began to cut the man's arm. The sound of flesh ripping and the smell of blood was in the air. Carter felt woozy. He watched as they cut all the flesh around the bone off until it was only hanging by the bone. The screams echoed through the forest and probably further. Two S.S. men grabbed the arm while the other two held the injured man down. The two yanked and with a snap and slurp of the blood and bone the arm came off. The screams got louder if it was possible. A whimpering cry escaped the commandoes lungs.

Carter hadn't realized he was shaking. He looked around to the other men. They were dead now. One of the Germans turned abruptly. Carter froze where he was. The monster shot out his leg and something fell through the bushes. Carter didn't jolt back like he thought he would at seeing it. Perhaps it was because it felt more of a dream than anything else; a nightmare. Lying before him was the head of one of the allies. Carter lifted it and turned it to look into the frightened pain filled eyes. He wasn't sure how long he looked into those eyes. There was movement ahead of him. He flinched and got low to the ground as he saw the German monsters take their light and leave laughing; evil dripping like venom from their voices. Once they were gone Carter ran to the man's side.

The commando flinched when he felt the presence of another.

Placing the decapitated head down, Carter gently lifted the dying man into his arms. The blood poured out of the shoulder onto Carter's chest. The man had only one limb; his left arm. Carter whispered gently to the man, "It's okay. I'm here. You're okay."

The man settled when heard the American's German-less accent. Slowly he lifted his arm and touched Carter's face leaving blood smears. There was something in the man's eyes that showed his strength. The man whispered hoarsely, "Everything's going to be okay."

Carter was so confused. He was supposed to tell that to the commando. Why was the man saying it to him? Carter cradled the man in his arms until the life left him. He didn't know for sure how long he'd been there He glanced at his watch. Carter was supposed to be back to camp nearly two hours ago. He didn't want to leave the men. He took the bodies to a safe haven he had discovered not to long ago. He hid the bodies and their pieces until he could come back for them with help. Once the men's corpses were secured he made his way back to camp.

He climbed down the tunnel and ran as fast as he could to the radio room. He saw Kinch at the radio and stopped abruptly. Kinch was surprised to see Carter especially in the shambles he was in. "Andrew…" Kinch stood and approached the younger man.

Carter looked around. "Where's the Colonel?" He asked desperately.

"Here!" Colonel turned the corner from one of the other rooms. He looked like he was ready to go out after the young man. Hogan approached Carter. Newkirk and Lebeau appeared and everyone started talking at once. They were asking questions but before Carter could answer another question was asked. Then Hogan started barking orders to get Carter medical aid.

Carter was desperate for them to listen. He was fine they had to listen and get to those men.

Kinch saw a look in the young man's eyes that wasn't like him. What really wasn't like him was his action.

Carter grabbed the Colonel by the shirt and shoved him against the wall. "Listen to me!" He yelled.

Hogan was taken off guard.

"Those Commandoes are all dead! They were murdered; massacred by a group of S.S. soldiers!" Their arms and legs were torn off and they were disemboweled! Forget about me! We have to take care of the bodies!" Carter paused he had finally taken a real breath since he had seen the murders. A sob escaped him. "It's all my fault if I had gotten to them sooner. If I had stopped those monsters …" He couldn't finish. He was no longer holding Hogan against the wall. He was using him as support to stand.

Hogan released his grip on the man's wrists and put a distance between them. "It isn't your fault Carter." He turned. "Newkirk," speaking softly he said, "Take Carter and get him cleaned up. Lebeau, Kinch you two come with me. We'll take care of the men."

Carter looked up at his commanding officer. "I hid them."

"Where?" Hogan straightened the young man.

"I can't really give directions. You have to know where to look. I'll show you." Carter composed himself and wiped his eyes.

Hogan nodded. "Alright, lead the way."

Carter took them out and showed them the haven; a large tree hollowed out underneath. The opening just big enough for a person to get through.

Hogan and the other men pulled the bodies out. As much as they didn't want him to, Carter helped. Hogan had told him repeatedly to go back to the camp but the young man refused. The last body that Carter took out was the officer leading the men. He had one arm and was soaked in dried blood. Carter gently laid the man on the ground.

Hogan went around and got all the identification from the men. When he got to the officer, Carter still had his hand beneath the man's head.

Hogan placed a hand on Andrew's shoulder and then took the identification. The men were buried properly and Hogan and his men returned to camp to report to London.

Carter changed from his blood stained clothes and dressed in a clean uniform. He washed the remains of blood from his face and body and returned to the barracks.

The men knew that he was bothered. However they didn't know what to say. After all they were bothered by the event as well.

Then Hogan called Carter into his quarters. "Andrew, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just don't understand." Carter sat down on Hogan's bunk. He was joined by the colonel.

Hogan placed his hand over Carter's. "Carter, they are Germans. They're monsters. You can't expect them to have mercy. After all-"

"No. That's not what I meant." Carter looked to the colonel. "He told me 'everything was going to be alright.' Why was he telling me that? He was dying! I should have been the one telling HIM that."

Hogan nodded understanding. He quickly thought of something. "He didn't want it to weigh to heavily on you, I'm sure. He knew it frightened you. I'm sure he wanted you to know that he was going to be okay."

"But he died!"

Hogan placed an arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Just because someone dies, doesn't mean they aren't going to be okay. What do you think it would be like for him if he lived? He wouldn't be able to walk or do anything he'd be pretty much bed ridden. What kind of life is that? He would have wished that he had died, to save him from the suffering he'd deal with the remainder of his life."

Carter nodded in understanding. A few tears escaped his eyes and he wiped them away. His Commanding officer was right. Sometimes death is the most merciful thing, especially when all they will do is suffer. Carter was just glad he could be there during those last moments.

Carter calmed down after that and grieved silently to himself. They all did. But it was a lesson they all had to learn even if the colonel hadn't meant for it to be a lesson. He was only trying to keep Carter together. But it helped and that's what mattered.

[AN] Okay so I honestly had no idea where I was going after Carter and the men went back to the camp after they buried the dead. Sooo if the ending sucks… I know XD My bad! R&R

I spell checked this time! And reread it to look for bad sentencing!! I'm doing my best to drop my bad habit of writing then posting! :D Aren't you proud of me!

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