《Wake now in the fire.》Chapter 6. Opaque
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Chapter 6. Opaque
Winston wasn't sure where he was.
He was lying on a blanket out in the open and wounded
soldiers were being left on the ground beside him.
He rubbed his eyes and noticed that straw coloured twine
had been wrapped around one of his wrists. Looking closer he
saw it was a necklace and attached to it was a small pendant
with a "V" on it. He had no idea where it had come from
or who it belonged to.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
He recognised the voice.
"Don't sit up Winston."
It was Harry Patch - one of the ambulance transport officers
who sometimes came forward to retrieve the wounded from
the regimental aid posts.
"How'd I get here Patch?"
"You don't remember?"
Winston tried, but couldn't.
"Do you know where you are?" Harry asked.
The question bothered him, he often asked wounded
soldiers the same thing to judge their level of
consciousness. Winston looked around.
"Outside the casualty clearing center by the looks of it."
Harry nodded.
"You've got a head wound. The Doctor will come and
have a look at you after he's finished with the worst of the
other lads. That bullet parted your hair quite nicely when
it bounced off that thick Yorkshire skull of yours."
A wave of tiredness washed over Winton, he closed his eyes.
Harry put his hand on Winstons' shoulder.
"I'm sorry to say old son that it's not enough to get you a
ticket home - so rest up while you can."
*
When Winston sat up again, Harry was gone.
He was still on a blanket outside of the casualty
clearing center and wounded soldiers were still being
laid out beside him. Sheets now covered the faces of some
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of the men closest to him. Winston started to remember what
had happened. He hadn't felt any pain when he was shot in
the head. He'd stumbled forward as if he'd been unexpectedly
pushed.
Then he remembered being shot twice in the back.
How was that possible?
The bullets had exited out of his chest and he'd felt his breath
pulled out of his body. In a panic Winston felt his chest.
His uniform was stiff with crusted blood, there was no wound,
there was no soreness, there was nothing.
He'd seen this sort of thing before.
The morphine that was given as pain relief sometimes
played tricks on a shocked soldiers' mind.
Winston lay back.
He put his hands over his eyes and almost at once re-lived
being shot in the side of the face. It was a stinging sensation
like being splashed with boiling water.
Blind in one eye, he instinctively put a hand over the wound
and his fingers had touched the exposed bone of his cheek
and eye socket.
Why did it seem so real, if it didn't actually happen?
Winston tried to gather his thoughts.
There had been someone else there with him.
They'd been talking.
At once he knew who it was - Finn.
*
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