Finally, Roe gets another moment alone. A signal of some kind -- probably a flare -- shoots up into the sky and explodes like a firework, lighting the surrounding area. Roe stares at it, and recites a prayer which, set to music and modified slightly, is also a popular Catholic hymn called "Make me a Channel of Your Peace." And I'm totally calling my mother in a second, because she will never believe that I remember all this. Roe's recitation is as follows: "O Lord, grant that I shall never seek so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, and be loved, as to love with all my heart." Grimly, Roe tips his head back and repeats the last line, seeking some kind of guidance. If my count is correct, he's been to thirteen holes so far, back and forth and around and answering everyone's questions and risking his safety to ensure everyone else's. Fade to white.
"MEDIC!" someone screams. Roe darts lightning-quick through the maze of trees and felled branches. Explosions litter the air, and bullets pound the snow around Roe. He leaps into Perconte's hole. "Look what they did to my leg!" screams Skinny. Sharp bits of shrapnel poke through his torn shin. Roe calmly tells Perconte to call for a Jeep, and methodically yanks out the shrapnel he can see, then pours sulfur powder over the wound, to tenderize it, or season it to taste, or whatever. "Ain't that bad," Roe says, trying to calm Skinny while he wraps the wound. He groans with anguish, then jolts upright when he sees Roe about to administer morphine. "No, Doc, I can make it!" he insists. "Save it, okay?" Skinny, right now, is the hugest of men. His leg is torn up and he's yelping, yet he decides someone else might need morphine more. He's lost his mind, certainly, but in his insanity he is heroic. Perconte and Roe grab Skinny and carry him as far as they can before they trip, unfortunately dropping Skinny gracelessly atop his injury. The howl he emits is straight out of Wolf Lake, except it sounds halfway realistic. "Aw, Skinny, you got blood all over my trousers!" gripes Perconte, who is either forcing levity, or tempting fate to tear out his spleen and dump it atop someone who will complain about the inconsiderateness of leaving one's organs atop a perfectly clean shirt. Roe sends Perconte after Spina, to let the other medic know Roe has gone into Bastogne with a patient and in search of plasma.
The Jeep rolls into a burned-out town stacked with bodies. The driver exposits that the Allies have no backup beyond Bastogne, and that the German captured the 326th Medical and raided it for doctors and supplies. "We got nothing," he frets. "They're giving the boys hooch for pain!" Hey, at least it works. Roe is stone-faced. He unloads Skinny and explains his injury, then chases a nurse to ask her for supplies. She makes him wait. Curious, Roe pokes around and watches men get bandaged; inside a smaller room, a nurse washes bloodied, used bandages so they can be recycled. He is perturbed by the conditions there. "Why aren't these men evacuated?" he asks. "They can't," answers a medic. "[Transportation is] cut off. This is as far as it goes."