The Old Breed

Chapter 62

Field Hospital, Okinawa

June 4th, 1945

Rocky and Sergeant Nelson visited me often in my sleep, to the point where I started fighting sleep as much as possible. Even with a lack of sleep, the duo still found ways to visit me. Every new patient who came into the hospital made me do a double take as I thought I saw the face of Rocky or Nelson, every time my hopes dashed. I knew they weren't coming back. That didn't change how desperately I longed for them.

Since I had nothing to occupy me other than an issue of Stars and Stripes, which I had already read cover-to-cover five times, and listening to the scuttlebutt that came each time a new patient came in, I scrutinized every moment of May 31st, thinking of ways that things could have been different, that Nelson and Rocky would still be alive, that I'd still be with my squad. There were so many what-ifs that I had begun tiring myself out with my own thoughts and found myself desperate to talk to anyone. The problem was that both the cots beside me were empty. I was in a tent with twenty or so bunks lined up on each side with a narrow aisle running between them. A few poles came down in the middle of the aisle, which caused even more havoc for the multitude of doctors and nurses who were constantly crowding the aisle, and strung between the poles was a wire that held lanterns every few feet. Over three fourths of the cots were filled, testament to the amount of casualties we were taking. One of the cots that was next to me had been filled when I got here, although that night he had passed away in his sleep. He'd stepped on a mine and lost both legs and mangled one of his arms. From what I'd seen from the doctors, it had been less about trying to go about the impossible task of saving him and more about making him comfortable when he finally slipped into eternal sleep. Thankfully, I was not in the same position. Not only was I going to make a full recovery, I would be fit soon enough to go back to my unit. I was still deciding if that was a blessing or a curse.

One of the doctors had become sort of close to me, was the father of a Marine in the same platoon as I, someone in 3rd squad, although I didn't recognize the name. One the first day, he had come up and sat down beside my cot to talk with me, because he was the doc in charge of me. It was just coincidental I was in the same platoon as his son. He was a mild mannered man, was in his late forties, early fifties, wore silver wire framed glasses, and spoke with a soft accent suggesting of southern descent.

"Well, son," he had started, putting a hand on my thigh. "I've got good and bad news. You care which one goes first?"

I shook my head.

"Good news then is this: your arm is nowhere near as bad as we thought. To be honest, none of your injuries are. You're just a bleeder. I haven't dealt with that much blood from one arm in a while. Thank God for plasma. Aside from your arm, a lot of it is just bruising and several small shrapnel wounds. Your back is going to be pretty sore for a few days, but there's no spinal injuries, which is very good news. You've also suffered a slight concussion, though that isn't too impairing. Your... your buddy saved you, son. He blocked most of the shrapnel from hitting you. He's a hero. I'm sorry it turned out the way it did for you boys. But, on the topic of your lack of serious injury, that brings us to the bad news, son. Because your wounds are not that bad, we can have you back to your unit in around a week."

He paused, let that sink in. I didn't know how to react. I wouldn't be going home. I wouldn't be seeing Jen and Sammy anytime soon. I was stuck in this hellhole for who knows how much longer. But a good part of me was relieved to hear this. Lanky was stuck in this hellhole, and I didn't want him to go through that alone. Heaven knows I didn't want him to go at it alone. I wouldn't if I was in his place.

"Well? The only help I can give you with that is tell them you've got shell shock. There won't be questions asked and you won't be sent back." He paused again. "Is that what you want?"