Feb 06 , 2026
Alfred B. Hilton gripped the flagstaff with a dying hand. Bullets tore through flesh and bone, but the crimson, white, and blue did not fall. Around him, comrades faltered, smoke choked the air, an...
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Feb 06 , 2026
The flag slipped from his grasp, but Alfred Hilton didn’t falter. Blood soaked through his uniform as enemy fire rained down. With his last strength, he caught the fallen colors and pressed them hi...
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Feb 06 , 2026
Alfred B. Hilton gripped the battered flagstaff with broken hands, the crimson stains spreading unchecked. Around him, chaos roared—smoke, screams, falling men. The weight of the Stars and Stripes ...
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Feb 06 , 2026
Alfred B. Hilton gripped the tattered colors with a dying man's resolve. Blood bled through his fingers; the roar of cannon fire and cries of the fallen surrounded him. Against the smoke and chaos ...
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Feb 06 , 2026
Alfred B. Hilton gripped the colors with hands trembling from bullets and blood. The smoke choked the air. The screams of dying men drowned the cries for retreat. Yet, through the hell of Fort Wagn...
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Feb 06 , 2026
Alfred B. Hilton gripped the colors tight despite the rifle cracks screaming around him. Every step pressed into a ragged ground soaked with blood and smoke. The Stars and Stripes slipped free from...
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