War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 443
In the busy operating room, Will the black man was still lying on the operating table receiving treatment.But Gendarmerie Captain Xiao En had already been taken out by the dazed Marshall, and a new wounded man had been replaced on the operating table with some charred remains.

Before he had time to clean up his mood, Wei Ran took over Will's treatment work, Dr. Bullock also returned to the operating table he was in charge of and continued to work. As for Dr. Harrison, he took two new medical kits, left the operating room again, and went outside Provide assistance within our capacity to those with relatively minor injuries.

Falling into the quiet operating room, Will said abruptly, "It was that white man named Sean who saved us."

Hearing this, Wei Ran and Dr. Bullock stopped their hands together, and after a brief moment of stupefaction, they continued their busy work as if they hadn't heard it.

"If he hadn't supported the collapsed rafters of the bunker with his back, we wouldn't have been able to move out the two big barrels of napalm inside in time. If the napalm exploded, I'm afraid many people in the camp would be burned to death."

Will took a look at the bayonet that Wei Ran pulled out from his thigh not long ago, and said with lingering fear, "Then those mice threw a grenade in, and he threw the grenade back, and he also blocked the shrapnel for me. .”

"do not talk"

Wei Ran stitched up the wound on Will's leg stitch by stitch, trying not to let himself think about what happened at that time, not thinking about what the gendarmerie captain who was prejudiced against blacks was thinking at that time.

The black Will sighed, and involuntarily clenched the bayonet that came from the [-] cover.

The busy rescue work was still going on, and Will was carried out of the operating room by two black stretcher soldiers. Wei Ran, who had no time to catch his breath, put on new rubber gloves and immediately went to the rescue work of the next wounded .

Gradually, the frequency of firefights outside the operating room became lower and lower, and the sound became farther and farther away, and finally the flags died down and the silence was completely restored. At this time, the operating room had already been illuminated by the sun again, and the wounded were living again. Into the rebuilt tent.

"Victor, Bullock, you can rest now."

Dr. Harrison, whose eyes were bloodshot, walked into the operating room and said hoarsely. Behind him were two doctors who had changed into surgical gowns and two male nurses.

Hearing this, the tired Wei Ran and Dr. Brock looked at each other, nodded in no particular order, and then continued to devote themselves to the unfinished work at hand.

It wasn't until they finished suturing their wounds that Qiqi heaved a sigh of relief, took off the rubber gloves and surgical gowns that had already been stained with blood, took off their masks and walked out of the operating room with their shoulders crossed. A truck, with their belts untied, poured a long-lasting parabola towards the tires.

"I never thought I'd be able to hold on"

Brock shivered, pulled up his pants and sighed, "Victor, I finally know why Jenny apologized."

In the middle of Brock's speech, he belatedly remembered that Nurse Jenny was no longer there.

"It's not you who should say sorry." Wei Ran also buckled his belt, "Go back and rest."

"This is for you"

Brock took out a metal pipe from his pocket and stuffed it to Wei Ran, "Havana cigars, the high-end products I bought before I came to Guam."

"Thank you"

Wei Ran took the cigar pipe and put it in his pocket, "I don't have anything for you, if you have time in the evening, I'll treat you to a beer."

"Can you get beer?" Bullock didn't take it seriously at all, "You can buy me a drink after we return to Pearl Island."

Wei Ran smiled and said nothing. After saying goodbye to the other party, he staggered towards the tent not far away.

However, when he opened the tent door, he immediately realized that something was wrong. In this tent with a large number of bullet holes, there were not only Tom who was injured in the buttocks, and Marshall who survived the grenade explosion and even had nothing to do. Randy, the stretcher soldier whom I didn't see at night, was also there, but this guy was also shirtless at this time, and wrapped in a large piece of gauze.

But what surprised him even more was the black Will!
He was playing poker with Randy and Tom at this time, and the bullets neatly arranged on the ammunition boxes in front of them also suggested that this game had obviously been going on for a long time.

It was Marshall, who was sitting alone on a wooden box, carefully cleaning various pistol parts with different shapes.

Although it seemed strange that there was an extra black man in this tent, what made Wei Ran even more dumbfounded was that it was only one night, and now not only was there a rifle at the head of every bed, even under the bed, There is also a circle of sandbags along the edge of the tent, especially at the head of Tom's bed, and there is even an extra Thompson submachine gun hanging!

"What are you?" Wei Ran asked half of the words abruptly, "Randy, where are you injured?"

"back"

Randy and Wei Ran touched their fists, cleared their throats and said happily, "I was cut by a mouse with a command knife last night."

"Seriously hurt?"

"There is such a long wound"

Randy drew a length of more than [-] centimeters with both hands, then simply put down the playing cards in his hand, got up and picked up a command knife from his own bed, proudly showing off, "But then I killed killed him, and brought back his command knife."

"It's your fate"

Wei Ran looked at Will as he spoke, and looked at the newly added 1911 pistol around his waist and the Japanese-style bayonet that he pulled out of his leg last night without any trace, and asked, "Your Is the wound okay?"

Will quickly responded, "It's okay, Dr. Harrison just changed my medicine two hours ago."

"What about you?" Wei Ran looked at Marshall who was cleaning the gun parts.

Marshall, whose eyes were bloodshot, looked up at Wei Ran, shook his head silently, and then continued to wipe the disassembled 1911 pistol without saying a word.

Seeing Wei Ran looking at him, Tom shook his head, "This bastard has been like this since he came back last night."

Immediately afterwards, as if he knew what Wei Ran wanted to ask, Tom patted Will on the shoulder and explained, "I asked him to stay, now we have many black wounded here, Will staying can help me comfort They, of course, neither Mr. Battalion Commander nor Mr. Marshall, for God's sake."

you will find a way
Wei Ran muttered to himself, and pretended to say casually, "Of course he won't have any objections. When I carried him back yesterday, if Will and his friends hadn't arrived in time, I'm afraid you would have finished presiding over the meeting between me and him." Marshall's Mass."

The words deliberately said to Marshall really made the latter raise his head again, and thanked Will in a hoarse voice for the first time, and even offered a military salute.

But the ashes-like despair in his eyes made everyone in the tent sigh.

"Marshall"

Tom dropped the poker in his hand, got up from the bed with difficulty, and limped to Marshall's side, "Sean is dead, and this is something that even God can't change. But I think he is definitely not willing to See you now."

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

Marshall exhaled forcefully, and quickly assembled the table full of parts into a 1911 pistol. While groping for the burnt marks on the wooden patch of the gun handle, he comforted himself in a relaxed tone, "There is no such thing as immortality in war. It just happened to choose that bastard Sean. You see, I know it all, so don't persuade me."

Tom sighed, and spread his hands towards Wei Ran and others, "Let him calm down. God can't help him at this time."

"It's as if God helped us last night." Wei Ran couldn't help but tease, and casually took out the cigar that Dr. Bullock had given him before and threw it to Marshall, "I'll give it to you."

"That's because you don't believe in God! Where's my cigar?"

Tom limped back to his bed, picked up the bible still studded with bullets from under the pillow and shook it, "I am a devout believer, so God helped me block this bullet, this is you I saw it with my own eyes!"

"But I was the one who killed the man who shot you, and only one cigar."

Wei Ran, who deliberately made jokes, sat down on his own bed, "What's the matter? The God of your family does all the good things, and I do all the dirty things like murder and arson?"

Before Wei Ran finished speaking, Randy was the first to burst out laughing, and then Marshall, who was originally depressed, couldn't help but smile.

It was Will, the black man, who crossed his chest devoutly, so that Wei Ran couldn't help but want to say "Goodness" or "Infinite Heavenly Venerable" for him.

Pastor Tom opened his mouth, picked up the gaudy 1911 that was also under the pillow, and changed the subject, "God's business aside, Victor, you bastard left my sidearm in the trench, you Don't you think you should apologize to me? Like a cigar or something?"

"Haven't you already found it all?"

Without any sense of guilt, Wei Ran reached out and picked up the M1 carbine leaning against the bed, and also changed the subject and asked, "There is really only one cigar, but where did these come from? This is to equip us with weapons." ?”

"Marshall brought me back before dawn"

Randy smiled and explained, "He's in charge of the weapons, I'm in charge of the ammunition, but the sandbags around are made by Tom and Will together."

"Are you going to turn this tent into a trench?"

Wei Ran asked dumbfoundedly, this is more or less a cure for the dead. Speaking of which, my bed is not just a carbine, in addition to five or six 1911 pistol magazines and a dozen carbine magazines. On individual magazines, there are still traces of dried blood.

Looking at the bedsides of other people, the configurations are basically the same. Except for the Thompson submachine gun on the bedside of Pastor Tom, the rest of the three people's bedsides are all M1 with longer range and greater power. Garland.Obviously, when Marshall prepared these weapons, he had carefully considered them.

"At least the next time we are touched by those mice, we won't even have the weapons to fight back."

After Marshall lit the only cigar, he finally opened his mouth to join the conversation, which relieved everyone who had nothing to say, and even a simple and honest smile appeared on Will's face.

"Although I don't think it's possible for those mice to come over, having these weapons by my side does give me a lot of peace of mind." Wei Ran was the first to affirm Marshall's efforts.

"We have prepared more than these things"

While Randy was speaking, he had fastened the tent door as he did in the past when he secretly drank beer.

And Will, the black man, also bent down and pulled out a wooden box covered by a blanket from under his bed.

As the box was opened, Wei Ran's eyes widened immediately. There were no more than 20 MARK II grenades in this not-so-big box!

"You prepared this too?" Wei Ran looked at Marshall and asked.

The latter spread his hands and said nonchalantly as before, "It's just a box of grenades."

"Stop talking about that"

Tom snatched the cigar from Marshall's hand and took a sharp puff, then winked at the black Will, who immediately closed the lid of the suitcase, covered it with a blanket again, and pushed it back to the corner under the bed.

It wasn't until this time that Tom suggested, "We are all injured now. If there is no accident, we won't have to do anything for at least half a month, so Victor, should we go get some beer?" Come celebrate?"

"Then I'll have to wait until I sleep."

Wei Ran had already taken off his boots while speaking, and at the same time made a promise, "Wait until the evening, I will think of a way in the evening, before that, you'd better prepare some food in advance."

(End of this chapter)