“Kim, hurry!” Carrie yelled for the tenth time.
Soldiers were coming in by the dozens. So many of them injured beyond help. Blood has become a common site around here. Not just by the surgeons doing everything they can in the operation room. Us nurses have seen our fair share of the wounds our strong men come back with. Nothing can take back the tears that pour down my face as yet another soldier is needing my dire attention. How do you possible help them all. Limited nurses here an only two surgeons it’s hard to give them all the most immediate care that they all deserve.
There goes my call. I am needed in another room. Rushing through the tent’s flaps, I find my way over to Carrie. Seeing a man who now has no legs. Carrie is stripping him of his pants and taking fresh clean water cleaning his wounds before wrapping them tightly so as to stop the bleeding until the surgeons can take him in.
“There three beds to my right, a man is need of your immediate attention.” Carrie told me. I rush over three beds away, there the soldier is slowly dying. I can see it and I know he knows it too. I hold his hand and silently say prayers that God will watch over take good care of him. The soldier briefly squeezes my hand letting me know he’s happy I am there with him and that he’s not going to die alone. His eyes soon shut close and his hand goes limp within mine. It’s still warm but soon will grow cold. I have to help move him to make room for another injured soldier. A few men who help move soldiers come to the bed. Lifting away the man and taking him to his new grave. My eyes sting with tears for the loss of the man whose hand I held. Each man who dies causes my heart to weep. Wiping my tears away, I take a deep breath and began cleaning the bed to prepare it for another man.
More and more soldiers come. There is no end. Not until the war is fought and over. But still the scars and numbers of the dead will forever stay with those who have survived to live another day.