TDTLBU Chapter Sixty-Five

Marci shivered in the dark, wrapping her woolen scarf tighter around her face. She thanked God for every article of clothing she wore and at the same time, wished desperately for more. The cold was fearful. And yet at the same time, she was almost glad for it. It kept her feeling wide awake. And she would certainly need every ounce of energy she could muster.

“How far out is it?” Her voice was muffled through layers of fabric. The ambulance jolted over a snowdrift, lurching forward and she gripped Emma’s arm to keep from flying to the front of the vehicle. The beams of the headlights barely sliced a path through the darkness. 

“I… I think we’re here,” Emma faltered as the ambulance bumped to a stop. She jumped to the ground, slipping on the icy snow and nearly falling. Marci landed beside her and the driver rushed around to meet them. 

“Awful to have to do this stuff in the middle of the night,” he muttered, passing out flashlights. “We’ll work in groups of two. Nurse Stewart, come with me, Nurse Sullivan, go with Mitchell.”

“I… I think I’m… re… re-thinking my… decision… to come out here…” Marci stammered, her teeth chattering violently as she half-tromped, half-slid through the snow after Mitchell. 

“Too late now,” he grinned over his shoulder. “This is a living nightmare though, ain’t it?”

Marci didn’t answer. She had no words. All this time she had been working as an Army nurse and yet this was her first time on a battlefield. The front lines were just ahead and the roar of rifle fire and explosions was deafening. She could feel the vibrations going straight through her and echoing back again. It was enough to make her heart want to stop beating. 

Dozens of wounded men had been brought back behind lines. They lay everywhere, in every haphazard position, some limping or dragging themselves over the ground to assist their comrades, some already dead. Marci dropped to her knees by the side of the first soldier she reached, grateful to have something to do. Suddenly having someone that needed her help managed to snap her out of the horror she had felt when she arrived only minutes ago. Here was work to do and she could do it. She assessed the man’s wounds quickly, her heart sinking when she realized the only thing she could do for him was give him morphine and a word of comfort. Assuring him she would return, although she knew he would be gone before she could, she jumped to her feet. Mitchell was calling her and she ran to help him, but suddenly stopped in her tracks, screaming in horror. A single shot, louder than those up ahead at the front, echoed across the field. Mitchell collapsed lifelessly over the wounded soldier he had tried to help. Marci dropped to the ground at almost the same time, sobbing aloud. It was the first time she had ever seen a man shot. And now she was more terrified than ever. The enemy was out here and she was alone. The others were far on the other side of the battlefield and she could never reach them in time. She was afraid to stand, afraid she would be shot too. 

“Don’t move!” The voice came from behind her. Marci pressed her face into the snow, lying as motionless as she could. Two more gunshots echoed over her head and she wondered vaguely if she was dead. Someone was kneeling beside her now and she almost stopped breathing.

“Hey… it’s okay.” It was the same voice as before, but it sounded different. Gentle and kind rather than fierce and demanding. She turned her head, staring up at the face above her. She could barely make out worried brown eyes and a helmet decorated with a red cross. 

The red cross. She felt her fear begin to leave her. Whoever he was, he must be a friend. 

“Who are you?” she whispered, tears spilling from her eyes again. It was a strange sensation, hot tears on ice-cold skin.

“I’m a medic,” he answered, reaching out to raise her to a sitting position. “C’mon. You can’t lie in the snow like this forever, you’ll freeze to death.”

“Th…th…they shot him…” she muttered, shivering wildly. She wiped tears away with the back of her hand. “I… I thought…”

“A sniper,” the medic spoke grimly. “It’s okay, I got him.”

“Oh, I wanna go home,” Marci burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. “Why did I ever come to this dreadful place?” She grit her teeth in attempt to stop them from chattering. The wind was picking up speed and it cut straight through her wool overcoat. The medic pulled her to her feet as she cried, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 

“You’re okay,” he comforted. “I’ll make sure you get back, get some rest, what aid station are you from?”

“The fifty-second, American,” she whispered, then stopped. “No… no, I can’t go back yet. There’s work to do here. It's only my first night here, I can't chicken out on my first night...” She swallowed hard, willing herself to stop crying. She moved to where Mitchell had fallen, the medic following. 

“I’ll stay here and help then,” he knelt beside the fallen soldiers. “You’ll need help, now that…” he didn’t finish his sentence, just nodded toward Mitchell’s body. Marci had checked him over, noting that he was dead, and the thought turned her stomach horribly. She felt a sudden rush of gratitude toward this stranger and she looked up at him again, noticing for the first time that his helmet was different. It wasn’t an American helmet. 

“Are you… English?” 

“Nah, I’m Canadian. My unit’s up ahead,” he nodded toward the front lines. “I stayed back to help with the wounded. Lucky I did,” he grinned at her. She was shocked to find herself thinking how beautiful his eyes were. Warm, deep brown eyes… something about them made her feel suddenly safe and protected.

“You saved my life,” she murmured. He just smiled and bent over a wounded soldier.

"Stay close, it's not a good idea to spread out in this area," he called back to her. "If you've got a radio, contact whoever's in charge, let 'em know what happened, okay? If they need my name, tell them Private Seth Morrison, First Canadian Division."