Guarded Ground: A Becky & Flynn WWI Mystery (The Becky and Flynn Mystery Series Book 1) by Anna Elliott

Guarded Ground: A Becky & Flynn WWI Mystery (The Becky and Flynn Mystery Series Book 1) by Anna Elliott

Author:Anna Elliott [Elliott, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wilton Press
Published: 2021-10-07T23:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 9: BECKY

Becky undid the ties on her surgeon’s cap and pushed at the hair that sweat had plastered to her forehead. At least she didn’t feel tired anymore. Slightly light-headed, and as though the gallon or so of coffee that she had drunk was vibrating through her bloodstream like a swarm of bees. But not really tired.

“Will he live, do you think?”

Becky looked up, slightly startled to find that the orderly assigned to wheel the most recent patient out of the operating theatre was speaking to her.

She looked at the man on the gurney, allowing herself to study his face for the first time. A few minutes ago, she had been too focused on stopping the bleeding in his amputated right leg.

“Yes, I think so.”

Like almost all the boys here, the wounded man looked terribly young. He had dark, almost black hair, straight brows, and was probably dashingly handsome when not deathly pale and unconscious. And he’d survived the fire in the ward with nothing worse than a few burns on his arms from flying cinders.

“He has a good chance of it, at least.”

The orderly nodded. He still looked slightly green in the face.

Behind them, the operating room nurses were scrubbing down the tables and sterilizing surgical instruments.

“Is that the last of them?” Becky asked. She had lost count of the number of men she’d needed to treat. Not to mention the burns she’d had to dress on those hospital staff who had rushed in to try and extinguish the flames.

“Yes, last one.” The orderly—Becky searched her memory for his name. Henderson? Hopkins? No, Howell, that was it. George Howell—glanced down at the bandaged stump of the patient’s leg and swallowed hard. “You know, I volunteered to come out here, but I’d no idea it was going to be like … like this.”

Becky spared a moment of pity for him. Most of the orderlies here were first- or second-year medical students. They came out to France thinking that they were God’s gift to medicine, having studied how to perform nice neat appendectomies and set broken collar bones. They always had a rude awakening when they realised the full spectrum of horror it was possible to inflict on the human body.

“It gets easier after you’ve been here awhile,” she told him. Although maybe that was even more disturbing: that one could grow accustomed to this kind of carnage.

George looked as though he didn’t believe her, but nodded.

“Where are the patients from Ward 3 being housed now?” Becky asked.

She had heard the fire had been successfully put out, but the room itself was completely gutted.

“They’ve been moved to Ward 2 temporarily, until another tent ward can be put up outside. Ward 2 just shipped a transport of men back home, so they’ve a bit of room.”

Ward 2 was also clear on the other side of the chateau, part of the east wing, so it ought to be safer from any structural damage and free from smoke.

“And you’re taking him there?” Becky nodded to the dark-haired patient on the gurney.



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