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Being a nurse in the war was nothing like working in the doctor’s office. The things that she saw gave her nightmares, and the men that she treated needed more than just a shot and a plaster.
Today proved to be one of Gloria’s most challenging days yet. Her medic unit was stationed just behind the front lines. It echoed in the distance. Mortar shells. She shivered and closed her eyes. Please God, keep them safe.
Choppers. She heard them, along with the sound of the jeeps. They were close. Within minutes the wounded arrived. Gloria was assigned to triage. She assessed the men as quickly as possible and sent the most critical to the operating tables.
Gloria worked quickly, but they just kept coming. The OR was full, pre-op was packed, and recovery was overflowing. Anyone not operating or in recovery was outside helping.
One soldier grabbed her as she walked by. “Help me. Please.”
His voice was rough and faint. She choked back a tear. His leg was torn to shreds by a mortar shell. She reached into her bag and pulled out a syringe of morphine. “This should help you.” God help her, she knew it was a lie. She smiled at him. “Don’t worry, everything will be alright.”
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