War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 1522: Inside and Outside the Operating Room

Almost at the same time as the white light that covered everything disappeared, the smile on Wei Ran's face also disappeared without a trace.

Before he could see everything around him clearly, he heard a lot of noisy shouts, wailing and weak groans, as well as sporadic gunshots that were clearer than these but sounded a little distant.

Of course, he also smelled a slightly strong smell of blood and disinfectant.

He blinked quickly, and when he saw everything around him clearly, he found himself wearing a blood-stained surgical gown and raising his hands in medical rubber gloves.

On the right hand side, there is a three-layer medical cart with enough surgical supplies, not many in number. At the bottom of the cart, there is a bulletproof vest and a Soviet-style helmet.

Right in front of him was a slightly old stretcher, and on it lay a woman who had been bandaged, and a kerosene lamp hanging on a shadowless lamp.

He was sure that the gas lamp was definitely not his, just as unfamiliar as the masked female nurse standing opposite the stretcher.

There was also a medical cart next to her, which was also filled with medical equipment and various medicines. Of course, there were also bulletproof vests and helmets on the bottom layer.

"Push! The baby is coming out!"

Just at this moment, a voice of encouragement in French was heard from behind him, followed by a calm voice that was obviously from a child - he could not understand what the little girl behind him said.

He subconsciously looked back and saw a dark green curtain with black stains stained by blood less than two meters behind him.

With the reflection of the light opposite the curtain, he could vaguely see a woman lying on the bed who seemed to be giving birth, and medical staff standing beside the delivery bed.

He could see more clearly that at the head of the delivery bed, in a position not covered by the curtain, there stood a little girl who looked no more than eleven or twelve years old, with a World War II American steel helmet on her head that was a little too big.

The little girl held the brim of her helmet with one hand and placed her other hand on the orange Polaroid camera hanging on her chest.

Before he could take a closer look, he heard a baby crying loudly from the other side of the curtain.

"It's a beautiful girl!" A woman on the other side of the curtain said loudly and happily in loud French.

Then he noticed that the little girl had raised the Polaroid camera hanging around her neck, and at the same time, she began to speak in a language that Wei Ran could not understand.

Before he could take a closer look, the wooden door not far away was pushed open from the outside by a little girl who looked about thirteen or fourteen years old. Immediately afterwards, a little boy who looked about her age ran in from outside and hurriedly pushed the stretcher in front of Wei Ran away.

As soon as he left, another young man of similar age came in seamlessly, pushing a wounded person on a stretcher and placed him between Wei Ran and the female nurse.

Just as Wei Ran subconsciously picked up the medical scissors, the female nurse opposite had already cut the cloth around the wound of the injured person and began to perform preoperative preparations with great skill.

At that moment, he even mistakenly thought that the person standing opposite him was the beautiful elf Andy hiding in the Love Letterhouse.

When he came to his senses, the female nurse opposite him had already completed the preoperative preparations and urged him in a clear and pleasant voice in German, "Veterinarian, it's your turn."

  Beast

Wei Ran cursed inwardly, threw down the medical scissors, replaced them with a scalpel and started working.

Thanks to his overly skilled experience, he soon removed a piece of shrapnel from the wound of the man who still had the strength to scream.

"Leave it to me to sew it up. There's a bullet wound on his arm here."

The masked female nurse opposite said before Wei Ran was about to pick up the needle holder.

Upon hearing this, Wei Ran immediately exchanged positions with the other party and treated the gunshot wound on the wounded man's arm as quickly as possible.

"Edelweiss, which station are you guys on today?"

Just as Wei Ran was almost roughly suturing the wound and bandaging it, a man on the other side of the curtain asked in French.

"Channel 11"

The female nurse, who was only separated from Wei Ran by a stretcher, answered in French, but it did not delay him from walking to the door of the operating room. He kicked the wooden door with his toes, making a loud "bang bang bang" noise.

  This female nurse's code name is Edelweiss?

Wei Ran looked at the female nurse who was cooperating with him strangely, took off his blood-stained medical gloves and threw them away, then took out a new pair of gloves from the medical cart beside him and put them on, preparing for the next operation.

Almost at the same time, the wooden door of the operating room was pushed open again by the little girl of about thirteen or fourteen years old, and the wounded who had been bandaged and the blood-stained stretcher were pushed out by the little boy, and the next wounded lying on the stretcher was pushed in seamlessly.

Almost at the same time, the woman in labor next door and her newborn daughter were pushed out by the girl in the helmet, and a new wounded person was pushed in right after them.

Putting aside the many questions in his mind, Wei Ran treated the seemingly endless number of wounded with the cooperation of the female nurse opposite him, while learning some information indirectly.

First of all, it is September 1982, 9, Teachers' Day for the Chinese people, but for the people in this operating room, this date only symbolizes that it is their 10th night here.

Secondly, the girl on the opposite side codenamed Edelweiss is from Austria. Her German name is Clara Holle, and she just celebrated her 25th birthday half a month ago.

Her birthday cake was a compressed biscuit and her birthday candle was a match.

Third, those in charge of another operating table next door were Yashar's parents, Celine Yaman, codenamed Sewing Machine, and Julia Shia, codenamed Cradle.

As for the little girl with the Polaroid camera around her neck, her name is Rama Abu Usha, and she was picked up by Edelweiss about two weeks ago.

Although this girl is only 11 years old, she speaks fluent French in addition to her native Arabic.

The "child laborers" in this medical team include not only Rama, but also her brother, Eid Abu Usha, who is just 16 years old, and two other children who were left behind - 15-year-old boy Hanwad Kani, and 14-year-old girl Dalal Abbas.

Whether it was the Usha siblings, Hanwad or Dalal, they were all war orphans, and leaving them to work in the bloody operating room was the only protection the four Doctors Without Borders present could offer them.

Among the four child workers, Rama was responsible for translation work in the operating room, taking photos of newborns and registering their names, including those of their parents. Her brother, 16-year-old Ed was responsible for arranging the order of operations outside the operating room.

14-year-old Dalal is responsible for guarding the wooden door of the operating room. 15-year-old Hanward, together with Ed, is responsible for pushing out the wounded who have completed treatment and pushing the wounded who are waiting for treatment into the operating room.

As for why the people pushed in were injured, the four Doctors Without Borders in the operating room, including Wei Ran, had no time or energy to ask - they were only responsible for treatment.

There were wounded soldiers next to each other, including Wei Ran. There was only less than a minute of rest time between each operation, but the number of wounded soldiers sent in from outside seemed to never end.

"Puff puff"

Just as Wei Ran was about to complete the final bandage on the injured person on the stretcher, the light from the kerosene lamp hanging above his head began to flicker.

"Mr. Sewing Machine, do we have any fuel?" Clara, a nurse codenamed Edelweiss, asked loudly in French. This was the 17th operation she and Wei Ran were responsible for.

"there is none left"

Through the curtain, Celine Yaman, codenamed Sewing Machine, answered while busying herself, "The fuel in our emergency vehicle's tank ran out yesterday."

“But it’s going to be dark soon.”

Edelweiss said worriedly, "Our gas lamps are about to go out, and we need fuel to boil and sterilize our surgical instruments."

"Rama! Go ask the people outside and see if anyone can help find some gasoline or kerosene!"

Julia Shea, codenamed Cradle, said loudly, "We are going to perform abdominal surgery on this child, and we cannot do it without adequate lighting."

"I"

"I'll go"

Before the girl with the Polaroid camera hanging around her neck could speak, Wei Ran took over the task and said, "I can't perform the surgery without fuel anyway, so I'll go."

"Be careful," the sewing machine and cradle on the other side of the curtain said in unison.

"Put on your bulletproof vests and helmets," Edelweiss across the street instructed while packing up medical equipment.

"I'll be back soon"

As Wei Ran spoke, he had already taken off his bloodstained surgical gown, mask, and gloves, and threw them into the iron basin in the corner. He then picked up the heavy bulletproof vest from the bottom of the cart and took a look at it.

This is a set of Soviet-made Type 71 titanium alloy bulletproof vest that he got from somewhere. Putting aside the bulletproof ability of this thing, the weight of 10 kilograms alone made him choose to give it up without even thinking about it.

As for the steel helmet placed together with the bulletproof vest, there was already a bullet hole on it that allowed light to pass through, so he naturally would not wear it on his head as a burden.

Fortunately, Edelweiss and others didn't seem to care about this matter, and no one said anything extra until he pushed the door and walked out of the operating room.

Compared to the operating room, the situation outside the operating room was not much better. The walls on both sides of the corridor were filled with wounded people waiting for treatment. Some of them were groaning and wailing, covering their bleeding wounds with their hands. Others were already lying on the ground, unconscious or even twitching uncontrollably.

He quickly left the corridor full of wounded people and walked out of the building. He then noticed that the sky outside was particularly dark, and there were black smoke columns rising in the distance, as well as gunshots from all directions from time to time. Looking around, he quickly got into the wreckage of a two-story building that seemed to have been bombarded, hid in a corner filled with the smell of urine and corpses, and checked himself and even the props provided in the metal book.

There was nothing special about his clothes. He wore a pair of khaki Martin boots, a pair of slightly baggy green overalls and a green British-style pullover. Apart from a pack of Marlboro and a box of matches in his pocket, he didn't have anything extra.

After lighting a cigarette and taking two deep puffs, Wei Ran took out all the usable props in the metal notebook one by one.

As expected, although the titanium alloy pistol was equipped with a silencer, it had no bullets. The magazine of the Type 81 rifle was also empty. However, the Black Panther vest gave a small surprise. Not only was the double-sided camouflage beanie hat there, but also the items in the back pocket that were facing the enemy, as well as the matching detonator and small mirror.

But the four magazines were empty, and there were no grenades or mines in the eight ammunition bags.

The weapons are in such a good condition, and the rest of the props are not much better. The three oil drums are so clean that there may not even be bacteria in them. There are no batteries in the flashlight, and no water in the kettle.

Fortunately, there was a roll of film in the Nikon SP camera, and the American military backpack was also filled with new film and film developing solutions. Even the half-frame camera was loaded with film.

After looking around, Wei Ran crouched down and walked to a broken bicycle that was almost buried by the rubble. He took out a pair of wire cutters from the metal notebook and cut the brake cable of the bicycle with two clicks.

Wei Ran put away the wire cutters and sat down in the corner. He carefully pulled out the steel wire core of the brake cable, and patiently peeled off nearly half of the thin steel wire from the core.

After trying it in his hand, he nodded with satisfaction, took out the wire cutters again, cut two sections of bicycle inner tube to wrap the two ends of the wire core, and cut two nylon wires from the nylon spool in the storage bag of the Black Panther vest, and tied the soft inner tube firmly to the steel wire core.

It took him less than five minutes to make himself an absolutely useful wire saw or twisted neck wire. Before leaving, he even wrapped the twisted neck wire, which was less than one meter long, around the bicycle frame and quickly pulled it left and right twice.

Touching the saw marks on the beam with satisfaction, Wei Ran hid the homemade twisted neck wire in the cuffs of his sweater and walked quickly towards a car not far away.

Without even a careful inspection, he noticed that the fuel cap of the car had been unscrewed. He tried pushing it, but there was no movement in the tank. Obviously, the precious fuel inside had been drained away by someone.

After walking around the hospital, which was almost destroyed by the war and only left in ruins, Wei Ran found nothing as the sky was getting darker. He did not find the fuel he desperately needed, nor did he find the bullets he needed for the language mission or for himself, whether for self-defense or to kill people.

Glancing in the direction of the hospital, he took advantage of the night and walked further along an alley.

Just at this moment, three armed men carrying weapons, each holding a cigarette and a flashlight, walked over from a distance.

Before the flashlight could hit him, Wei Ran dodged and hid in the ruins that were everywhere on the roadside. He held his breath and secretly looked at the three armed militants who were just separated by a wall.

  Although it was dark, he immediately noticed the cedar badge on the right chest of the leading man in military uniform - that was the symbol of the Falange Party!

The other two people looked like they were going to a concert. One of them had a crew cut, wore flared jeans and a denim jacket, and had white pointed leather shoes on his feet.

The other one was also wearing bell-bottom pants and pointed leather shoes, but his upper body was a tight-fitting cross-body vest and a brown leather jacket.

Although these two looked unruly, since they were walking behind the Long Spear Party, they were probably not good people.

Although it is only September 9th, there is still a week before these Falangists and the Yiselds collude to carry out the massacre.

But Wei Ran, who had been holding back a fire of anger in his heart with nowhere to vent before entering this period of history, didn't care whether striking first was considered a sneak attack or not.

After carefully observing the surroundings, Wei Ran, hiding in the shadows of the ruins, waited patiently for the three militants to pass by. He immediately crouched down and followed them quietly, pulling out his homemade weapon from his sleeve.

Seeing the right moment, Wei Ran used the grappling wire supported by both hands to easily grab the neck of the last militant in the leather jacket, and at the same time pulled it left and right quickly with both hands several times.

Because nearly half of the steel wire had been stripped off, the brake line had become as sharp as a saw blade. It did not take much effort at all and easily cut through the soldier's trachea, artery and deeper veins until it encountered the relatively hard cervical vertebrae, where it got stuck.

Before the white man with his throat cut even fell to the ground, Wei Ran had already loosened the neck wire that was almost completely stuck in his cervical vertebrae, and he also had a Type 50 engineer shovel in his hand.

"puff!"

As he swung the shovel hard, the sharp blade brought a cool breeze and hit the second-to-last man, who seemed to be cosplaying as Elvis, on the neck as he turned his head.

He simply let go of the engineer shovel in his hand, and a pair of heavy wire cutters appeared in Wei Ran's hand.

"Oh!"

Just as the front-most Falange member in military uniform realized something was wrong and was about to turn back, the hard head of the wire cutters hit him accurately on the temple.

"Pfft!"

After kicking the Falange member to the ground, Wei Ran put away the wire cutters, turned off the three flashlights and put them on his belt, then turned around, stepped on the corpse's shoulders, pulled out the engineer shovel stuck in his neck, and took back the metal notebook.

He slowly removed the neck wire that was stuck in his spine, shook it, and hid it back in his sleeves. He then dragged the three bodies one by one into the shadows deep in the alley not far away.

After checking the three bodies in the dark, Wei Ran couldn't help but curl his lips. The first militant whose throat he slit used a Swiss-made SG540 rifle.

Not to mention the quality of the weapon itself, at least the ammunition of this gun is of no use to him at all - unless he uses the opponent's weapon, which will undoubtedly bring him, a doctor without borders, huge trouble.

After some picking and choosing, Wei Ran took out the only American M67 grenade from the corpse and stuffed it into the ammunition bag of the Black Panther tactical vest he was still wearing, and then looked decisively at the second corpse.

This guy's weapon is a G3 rifle which he got from nowhere but is definitely related to Yiselie.

Fortunately, although he still could not use the ammunition for his rifle, Wei Ran found a 9mm Browning pistol in the holster on his waist, and a spare magazine stuffed in a Soviet ammunition bag.

After stuffing all three magazines into the ammunition bag of the Black Panther vest, Wei Ran squatted in front of the last corpse again.

In addition to an M203 rifle with a 16 grenade launcher, the corpse was also carrying an AK47 with a folding stock. The ammunition pouch on his chest was filled with two spare magazines and several broken bullets. This was undoubtedly great news.

He deftly removed the magazine of the AK47 and stuffed all of the spare magazine and bullets into the ammunition bag. Not giving up, Wei Ran searched the body one last time and found a Zippo lighter, a ladies' gold necklace from somewhere unknown, and half a pack of cigarettes.

Finally, he took off the batteries of the three flashlights on his waist and stuffed them into the ammunition bag of the Black Panther vest. Wei Ran looked around, then took off the uniform of the Falangist corpse and threw the three bodies into the basement of an abandoned building.

Rubbing the remaining bloodstains on the ground with his feet, Wei Ran walked a hundred meters away carrying the crumpled Falangist uniform, and entered the wreckage of a building. He first took off the Falangist cedar badge and stuffed it into the ammunition bag of the Black Panther vest, then hid in the corner and set fire to the uniform that would cause trouble.

Before the fire started, he had already left through the broken window, found a piece of ruins and hid in the corner, loading his weapon with bullets one by one.

"Pity"

Wei Ran muttered silently. The preemptive strike just now allowed him to seize 23 rounds of 9mm pistol bullets, 102 rounds of 47mm intermediate-power bullets for AK7.62, and the only grenade.

In other words, even if grenades were counted as bullets, he still had a shortfall of 150 rounds to complete his task of collecting 24 rounds of ammunition. Moreover, he had been out for more than half an hour and had not found any fuel.

Fortunately, although the first language task was not completed, at least his titanium alloy pistol was loaded with bullets, with 3 rounds left over, and the five magazines of the Type pistol were also loaded with three and a half bullets.

Even the flashlight was fully loaded with batteries, with plenty of spare batteries.

"Also be careful with water and food."

Wei Ran muttered to himself. He didn't find any food on the three corpses just now.

This means that their base camp is probably very close to here, so close that there may be no need to carry food with them, which is definitely not good news.

After taking stock of his current situation, Wei Ran left the dim ruins, pinned the cedar badge on his chest, and then walked swaggeringly on the street carrying the Type 81 rifle loaded with bullets.

After crossing two intersections in succession, he finally stopped again. At this time, an M10 armored personnel carrier was parked diagonally across the intersection less than 113 meters away from him.

At the rear of the car, there is a 20-liter oil barrel fixed on the left and right.

Glancing at the empty machine gun turret on the roof, Wei Ran put away his Type 81 rifle and hid in the shadows to observe for a moment. Then, taking advantage of the daylight, he swaggered to the rear of the troop carrier, gently opened the buckle that secured the oil barrel, took down the heavy oil barrel, and then did the same to the oil barrel on the other side.

He was so bold and reckless, and of course he had his reasons. After all, the Falange Party was not a regular army.

Or to be more precise, it was not the regular army of the Soviet Union after the end of World War II, which was composed mainly of Jewish Red Army veterans with rich combat experience.

If this sounds a bit complicated, then it can be simplified - the enemies we are facing at this time are just a group of noobs who can be absolutely equated with "mob".

Wei Ran trotted into the ruins of the building carrying two heavy oil drums in his arms. Seeing that the possible Falangist militants in the troop carrier did not notice him at all, he immediately climbed out of the broken window of the ruins to the street on the other side, and rushed to the hospital at a trot, following the shadow of the building.

However, before entering the hospital, he hid in the ruins of the building again, opened the lid of one of the oil barrels and smelled it, then took out the kerosene lamp in the metal book and filled it with gasoline. He also tore off the cedar badge on his chest and stuffed it into the ammunition bag, and took back the metal book together with the vest.

A moment later, Wei Ran, carrying two heavy oil drums, walked into the hospital where the power and oil had long been cut off and only sporadic candlelight was on.

When he walked into the operating room with only one kerosene lamp left, Doctor Without Borders Celine Yaman, codenamed Sewing Machine, was still busy performing abdominal surgery on a wounded soldier at the position he was originally responsible for.

Next door, on the delivery bed with the curtains drawn, a woman was trying hard to give birth to a new life with the help of nurses Julia Shea, code-named Cradle, and Clara Holle, code-named Edelweiss, and amid the unanimous prayers of several child laborers - enduring the war and pain of this city and this nation.

(End of this chapter)