Whichever mothers did not cry to their children, unique the own thing, the unique treasure that God had given when seeding a seed them of love in its belly, and as reward received a medal, a standard with which could not, nor them Serbian to replace the being that lost or to buy foods and to live. Whichever mothers did not go it rambling of a side for another one, receiving scorns, humiliations, rudeness, ridicules trying to secure aid, a return, an aid. Oscar felt desires to vomit, not by the blood, not by the legs that amputee were, by the suturadas wounds, by the tragedy, no, it felt desires to vomit to see as much cruelty and sevicia in the man, as much desire of extermination of the same race under pretexts that did not share nor justified. It was about to finish the turn when it descended among skies, under the shelter of a behind schedule cobriza one, one of the last helicopters. With the hands in the waist I let save a pain sigh and aloud I exclaim: " " The last soldiers of the shades, that will not see the light of a new day " " The stretcher-bearers lowered two bodies, were two young people: A beautiful girl of little twelve years and a boy of thirteen years. Oscar was surprised when seeing two children, that with his mustios eyes they watched distressed all the sides.
He surprised also it that they came taken from the hands and no matter how much treatment to separate them was not possible to do it. Oscar I approach the girl and he said to him tenderly: " " I need to review them, to see the wounds, to make a diagnosis and behavior, but in these conditions not realizar" could; ". The girl with the eyes flooded in tears responded to him in a slight whisper: " " He is my brother and if we are going to die, we will die together " " Oscar did not say anything, made transfer to the young people to the stretcher.