Story from the Vietnam war
I had a friend. He told me this story before his own death due to heart disease.
My friend was drafted into the army in 1965 and after training he was sent to VIetnam. He developed a friendship with a hip black dude he called Wonder boy. He was called Wonder Boy because his last name was Robin and the seargeant called him that during training.
My friend went to bars on R&R with this cool black guy but one day they were in a firefight.
Wonder boy took a bullet in his chest. A sucking bleeding chest wound. He was quickly carried of the field via heliocopter and taken to a hospital.
My friend visited him in the hospital and Wonder Boy said. "I got my million dollar wound" Meaning he was going back to the states.
My friend tried to visit him again but Wonder Boy had died on the operating table.
War is full of stories like this.