In the urgent beat of military drums, two large contingents of Paratu troops formed an impenetrable wall, mercilessly driving Herder wounded soldiers towards the Confluence River.
Throughout his relatively short career, Winters had seen many inhumane atrocities, but the scene before him was still unbearable:
Men were packed together like animals about to be slaughtered in an enclosure.
Thousands of Herder wounded were trapped on a small patch of dry shore, spears with fresh blood ahead of them and frigid, rapid river waters behind.
Too many people, too little space.
Your shoulder presses against my chest, my back against his. No one could move; bodies were nearly beyond control.
The outermost Herders stood knee-deep in water while those inside continued to push them outwards.
They screamed in desperation, pleaded for their lives, tried to cram onto the shore, only to be swept by the crowd into deeper waters.