Frontline Nurses by Holly Green

Author:Holly Green
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781785039577
Publisher: Ebury Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Over the next days Leo developed a routine. Up at 6.30, breakfast of black, sweet coffee, bread and cheese, or sometimes a kind of porridge, then the day spent in the endless task of dressing wounds and washing and feeding the patients, dinner and then bed. Most of the time she was cold, wet and often hungry, but that was insignificant compared with the suffering all around her. Dragonoff, perhaps because he saw her as more conscientious or more intelligent than the men under his command, or perhaps because she was neater and more nimble-fingered, began to teach her some more advanced techniques, including how to suture a wound. In civilian life he had been, she learned, the doctor in charge of a hospital in Sophia and his dour manner was his defence against the horrors he had to deal with every day.

Victoria and Luke came and went and each time they returned Leo thought she saw signs of greater intimacy between them. Once or twice she tried to tease her friend about it but Victoria always put her off with a shrug or a sarcastic remark. The convoys of ox-carts continued to plod off towards Lozengrad and the places of those who had gone were immediately filled by new casualties. The battle was at a stalemate and no one could see how it would come to an end.

The only unusual occurrence was the arrival of a Turkish prisoner at the dressing tent. He had been caught trying to burrow into one of the Bulgarian saps to lay a mine and in the ensuing fight had received a bayonet wound that had laid his scalp open. No one knew why he had been brought in instead of being dispatched on the spot, which was the usual practice, but there were rumours that he was a spy and was being held for questioning. Casualties had been heavy that day and there was hardly room in the tent for another man, so the stretcher bearers set him down outside while one of them searched for a space. The man was mumbling and protesting in Turkish, convinced that he was about to be killed, and struggling with the remaining bearer in an effort to rise. Leo, hearing the noise, went out to him and stooped beside the stretcher.

‘It’s all right,’ she said in Turkish. ‘You’re quite safe here. No one is going to harm you. Lie still and I will fetch some bandages to dress your wound. What is your name?’

‘Kemal,’ he mumbled.

‘Don’t be afraid, Kemal. I will be back in a moment.’ She nodded to the stretcher bearer. ‘It’s all right. You can leave him to me.’

The man subsided and she turned away to go back into the tent. As she did so, she heard hoof beats and glanced round to see a company of Serbian cavalry headed by an officer on a magnificent grey horse cantering into the camp. She went into the tent, collected a tray with the necessary equipment and returned to find the Turk staggering to his feet.

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