[center][h2]PFC James Hunt|Le Haye Sainte post battle[/h2][/center]

James did his best to help in the excavation efforts to get the buried out of the other house, but fate had decided that he was going to receive an even bigger splinter through the leg for dodging a second tank round, this one only partly through his leg and hurting much worse than the first. When Evan heaved up the beam, James was there, trying to assuage the damage. "Ah hell. Sorry Lilly, but I gotta get you out." Turning to the others, he yelled out, "Hey, she's pinned to the damned wall! Get the med supplies ready cause I gotta pull her off it!" Gritting his teeth against the pain in his own leg, he grabbed Lilly and pulled, sliding her forward. [i]I hat this, I hate this, I hate this. Imps are gonna fucking die.[/i]

Lilly groaned slightly as he pulled, but not much else. Grunting in pain and exertion, he pulled again, this time getting her free. Dragging her outside, he pulled off his jacket and put it under her while grabbing the surprisingly intact nearby curtain and putting it on top of the wound and pushing with one hand while slapping her face with the other. "Wake up, Lilly, come on. You can't rest now or you won't wake up. Come on, stay with me, focus on the sound of my voice. Come on." Not eliciting a response, he kept it up for a good couple minutes before looking at his squad mates. "Not a fucking word." And then he kissed her, trying to shock her into wakefulness. The trick had worked for others in situations far less dire, so it might work now. Pulling back, he prayed it had worked.