By The Bivouacs Fitful Flame Poem Summary Video
A Civil War Song Cycle: By the Bivouac's Fitful Flame By The Bivouacs Fitful Flame Poem Summary.
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Cold Comfort
Chapter Text CHAPTER 2 Their bellies full of oyster, anchovies and truffles, Pierce held up the tiny lighter flame as he and Winchester exchanged nervous glances in Summart tight confines of the tarp tent. I would think lying on our sides would give us the best chance at staying warm. You want the front or the back?
What a surreal experience indeed.
Chapter One: The Poet Painter
Charles lie in the darkness, his arm draped over Benjamin Franklin Pierce, as they shivered in concert under a poor excuse for a wool blanket. Was this how he would die, with his arms around this man, at the bottom of some rocky ravine in the Korean brush? He would have been Summar long since then, his body tired but not to the point of aching. No pain, no suffering… certainly read article like this. He recalled that fateful incident several months back in which a bullet had passed through his hat during a sniper attack on the compound, leading him on a quest to understand the experience of a dying person.
Learning Consequence
The patient he and Hunnicutt had brought back to life had nothing to contribute, and it was only when he traveled to battalion aid that he was made privy to the last moments of the dying. Was that what he would smell? Or was that only what men dying of internal wounds smelled?
This kind of death, death by freezing, was slow, terrifying… all the energy being sapped from his body as his brain made the agonizing call to sacrifice yet another digit, another appendage, for the express purpose of ineffectually maintaining his core temperature. As the cold set in, his brilliant mind would slow to a crawl and then stop, putting an end to all conscious thought. Would he and Pierce just freeze here like popsicles, unable to even think in their final moments? Would they be left here, buried Fitul under this impenetrable permafrost?
He could see it now, their being exhumed in odd years by some Korean archaeologist and displayed in some museum, their bodies fused together for all of eternity, a tale of two wayward Americans in the wrong country at the wrong time. We could very well die here tonight. My dad will never know what happened to me.
Even that I considered. But not this.]
Analogues exist?
Magnificent idea and it is duly
And how in that case it is necessary to act?