The priest, holding a Bible in one hand and a submachine gun in the other, walked leisurely amidst the rain of shells. Whenever he found an injured soldier still alive, he would kneel down, lean close to the soldier's face, and mutter: "Child, I can't treat your wounds, but I can listen to your last prayer, and I promise it will be conveyed to God."
After saying this, he would place his ear near the soldier's mouth, striving to hear the last prayer of that unlucky soul.
Then the priest discovered that most of the time, what he heard was "Mom."
Half an hour passed just like that.
Evans ran out from the house that had become a dangerous building, and saw the priest walking down the street as if nothing had happened — he was the only one standing on the whole street.
Deputy battalion commander: "Where the hell did you find this lunatic?"
"In the swamp, when I found him, he was fishing out his Bible and Holy Communion Box."
"Damn it." The deputy battalion commander cursed.
