The following is an excerpt from Chapter 12 titled "Death Awaits Them All."

"...His head throbbed with a terrible headache, and his whole body felt as if it were on fire. The pain throughout his body was intense. As he rolled over on his left side, his memory began to come back to him. The War, Belgium, retreat, Popielarcheck—all these thoughts now raced through his aching head. Then he saw a sight that shocked him. A pair of human legs lay ten feet away from him, in perfect form, as if someone had sheared off a human body at the waist and placed them on the ground. They were Popierlarchek’s legs, still in his paratrooper pants, and his combat boots still on his feet. The tripod he had had over his shoulders and the entire upper half of his body were gone.

The sergeant tried to gather himself, but any movement was extremely difficult. He had blood dripping from his nose, and his helmet was gone. As he looked at his own torso, he saw that he was covered in blood and pieces of human tissue, none larger than a quarter. He was covered with what was left of Private Popielarcheck’s upper body.

His right hand had a large hole in the soft tissue between his thumb and forefinger and the pain was excruciating. The blood oozed from the wound. His right leg throbbed with horrible pain, and as he tried to sit up he became lightheaded and began to pass out again. He quickly laid his head back down on the ground and closed his eyes. He had a terrible ringing in his ears that was deafening.

He felt the need to puke, so he again rolled over on his left side and expelled the miniscule amount in his stomach. He opened his eyes only to again see what was left of his paratrooper friend. He looked down the length of the hedgerow and saw that the private carrying the machine gun had either been blown to pieces or decided to retreat. The only weapon he saw was his .45-caliber sidearm, which was still strapped to his belt. For the first time since D-Day, he felt completely hopeless.

Sergeant Busi knew this was his end. For six months he had wondered how and when it would happen, and now his answer was clear. His life would end right here on a miserable, cold Belgian morning in a desolate frozen battlefield, thousands of miles from his Pennsylvania home..."

"Knockin' on Heaven's Door: A True Story of Courage and Sacrifice."