The continuing short story of a World War I nurse, in 100 word installments…to make this a bit easier to read, I’m going to include the first three parts –
I woke with another headache. The guns were still thudding. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Have to find water today. See if the legs will work. If you’re lucky you can dodge shrapnel. Time to go.
* * *
There used to be a little stream, down the hill. I tighten the splint on my dragging foot. Deep breath. Skirts will hinder me, but female clothes might make snipers pause. The big guns? Soldier or nurse, they won’t care, any more than an earthquake would.
Crawling under fallen beams, out of what was a hospital once. Day before yesterday. Nothing looks the same. Artillery echoes through my bones. Hobbling forward dizzily, creeping up piles of rubble and sliding down the far side. Once I fainted. I woke with another headache. Water gurgles ahead. What germs, what poisons does it carry? I smile wryly – I’m going to drink anyway.
* * *
What now? I was so close to the stream! “Miss!” He’s scrambling down the hillside, dirtying his nice clean uniform. “Isn’t there a hospital around here?”
I laugh and laugh. “Up there!” I point at the rubble.
It takes a minute for him to understand. “But – I’ve got all these wounded men.”
He’s a bit shocky, I decide. But he does have a canteen of water. Oh, it tastes good! “Thank you,” I say, briskly, nurse-like again. “There must be some places in the world that haven’t been blown up. You’ll have to go there.”
* * *
“I’m not leaving you here,” he says. “You come with me – I’ll give you a ride in the ambulance.”
I thank him and walk briskly up the hill. Or I intend to. Somehow I’m sitting flat on the ground with the driver bending over me. “I think I’d better carry you,” he says apologetically, scooping me up.
By this time I should be used to the way the pounding guns make the whole world vibrate. My head swims; my mind floats like a leaf in water. I should go on duty – where’s the hospital?
Maybe I’m the one who’s shocky.