That one scene gave chill me. I was the leader, the man in charge to go in front of my squad. When all regrouped we received the order to attack yet and to go front. The losses were many. I began to shoot like a crazy person to the front. The truth by my inexperience in the direct combat did not know of where they shot to us, although the fire came from all the forest, of all the directions. The shouts, the explosions of mortars, the scent to powder, the flashes that left among the trees, the gun shots that crossed whistling, the wounded, the deads, the destroyed trees, the airplanes that crossed the space, the equipped with artillery helicopters UH-60 and UH-1H that unloaded all their arsenal against the men of the CRAF, did that who we dreamed to " " guerra" " we would wake up of the dream and we would be with but horrible hell.
The forest burned in flames, in fire, explosions and shouts that came from all sides. Hell got dressed death, blood, pain, tragedy, of watched of terror. A shout I remove from my ponderings when a sergeant with the face guinea fowl and with branches in its body I crawl until my and it said to me: " " Cabron of excrement you are going to let to us kill, so that they commanded to you here, shoots, dispara" ". Those words broke the critical moment in which it found me and I attacked without compassion against guerrillas who followed protected in the forest. We began to commit in the mount, in that one thick forest that did not allow to see the light of the sun. For a moment I felt only, when it watches back I was with the absent and full glance of terror of my friend who followed to me like a robot.
