Lone Survivor_ The Eyewitness Account of Operation Redwing and the Lost Heroes of SEAL Team 10 ( PDFDrive )

But my back hurt like hell. I never realized how much pain three cracked
vertebrae could inflict on a guy. Of course, I never realized I had three cracked
vertebrae either. I could move my right shoulder despite a torn rotator cuff,
which I also didn’t realize I had. And my broken nose throbbed a bit, which was
kid’s stuff compared with the rest. I knew one side of my face was shredded by
the fall down the mountain, and the big cut on my forehead was pretty sore.
But my overriding thought was my thirst. I was only slightly comforted by
the closeness of several mountain streams up here. I had to find one, fast, both to
clean my wounds and to drink. That way I had a shot at yelling through the radio
and locating an American helicopter or fighter aircraft in the morning.
I gathered up my gear, radio, strobes, and laser and repacked them into my
pouch. I checked my rifle, which had about twenty rounds left in the magazine,
with a full magazine remaining in the harness I still wore across my chest.
Then I stepped out of my redoubt, into the absolute pitch black and deathly
silence of the Hindu Kush. There was no moon, and it was just starting to rain,
which meant there wasn’t going to be a moon in the foreseeable future.
I tested the leg again. It held my weight without giving way. I felt my
direction around the huge rock which had been guarding my left flank all day.
And then, with the smallest, most timid strides I had ever taken, I stepped out
onto the mountain.