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SSC31 – Bloody Bastogne
“Yes Deacin, very funny. Just remember that it’ll be me running to save you when you get shot out in the battlefield.” Silence fell upon the troop as the truck carrying them went over a rock. “No, didn’t think it would be so funny now.”
Being a reserve isn’t the best of jobs amongst the troops, but a reserve medic well that’s just a nightmare. And guess lucky soul got the job when he signed up. Yes, me. Haven’t had all that much work now, but now it’s in to winter and our troop are on our way to the woods in Bastogne to occupy the area until the Americans get there. Who knows what might happen in there.
“Come on Webber, off the truck!” Falling out of my day dream I stood up, jumped down from the truck and made my way across with the rest of the troops to where we would start digging our fox holes in.
Nothing happened within our first two days of arrival, well apart from being frozen to death. The sitting around and doing nothing didn’t last for long though, as over the week the Germans started launching early morning or late evening attacks to catch us off guard. This meant a lot of work for me – running around like a headless chicken tending the needs of the injured soldiers. I had barely had six hours sleep in the whole week and my hands feet had lost most feeling due to the cold.
It had been a full day without an attack and I was so exhausted and frozen. If I carried on like this it would be hard for me to perform my medic duties, let alone pull a trigger. I needed to go back to base camp to get a good night’s sleep and a warm meal. I went and asked around for Lieutenant Alann so that I could check that I could go for the night. After ten minutes or so of wandering around I found Lieutenant Alann. “Permission to speak sir,”
“Go ahead,” replied Lieutenant Alann, carrying on looking at his paperwork.
“Sir, I was wondering if I would be able to go back to base camp for the night? I’ve not had much sleep of the past week and I’m finding it hard to treat people for the numbness in my hands.”
Lieutenant Alann looked up “Well you look like you need a good warm rest and a full stomach,” he thought for a moment and then carried on “sure, you can go for one night, but make sure you’re back by twelve hundred hours as we need to prepare for an attack on the German tomorrow night.”
‘Great, an attack for me to look forward to when I get back’ I thought. “Thank you sir.” I took off quickly to base camp, so I could warm up straight away.
When I arrived at base camp I had barely had time to put my riffle down before I was rushed to the hospital part of camp to make up the medic numbers there to treat people who had been brought back from the woods. Although the place was slightly warmer I was starting to wish I was back in the woods now that I was at base camp. When I was at one place I wished I was at another – what I really wished was to be back home in England, sitting down to enjoy a Sunday roast. Of course that couldn’t happen so I had to put up with this.
I got away from the hospital at about 8 O’clock and managed to scrounge some hot soup and bread to eat. I ate it as if there was no tomorrow, with the warm soup feeling so good flowing down my throat. I went straight to bed after to get as long a sleep as possible ready for tomorrow. There was something bugging me though – my left index finger was still numb and cold, I thought that it could be a frost bite, but I didn’t like the idea of having my finger cut off and thought I would give it a bit more time. My thoughts started drifting away as I slowing fell off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning feeling the warmest I had been in a very long while. I turned over and saw the clock showing 11.30, I quickly got out of bed and put my uniform on. I rushed a quick breakfast and warm drink and caught a truck back into the woods. I arrived just in time for the meeting preparing for the night’s attack.
The rest of the day flew past, even with the cold. Men were either too eager for night to come or too nervous for it. The night came and we launched the attack. It was not long before I was at work nursing men’s wounds. I was doing this without the use of my left index finger. The pain had become unbearable, it was a frost bit and it had to come off and soon. I would have to find a place out of the way to do it – this mattered more than the other men’s needs, as after I would be able to treat them properly.
I looked around and found a half dug fox hole. I crouched down in it and pulled out my pair of scissors. I drew them closer to my finger. Treating other men was hard but to do it to myself. . . ‘No this has to be done.’ I thought. I turned my head away and close my eyes and forced the scissor blades together. With a thud on the ground I knew it had come off.
I looked round and saw my finger, with blood in the snow, but when I look up at my hand I saw no blood coming from it. I looked down and my body and I saw the bullet wound in my stomach. With an instance I felt immense pain. The blood kept on coming but I hadn’t a clue what to do. Slowly but surely I started to weaken. I heard distant cries of “Medic!” – For how I wanted to go help, or were the cries for me? The question would never be answered as I faded away into the pool of my own blood.
“Yes Deacin, very funny. Just remember that it’ll be me running to save you when you get shot out in the battlefield.” Silence fell upon the troop as the truck carrying them went over a rock. “No, didn’t think it would be so funny now.”
Being a reserve isn’t the best of jobs amongst the troops, but a reserve medic well that’s just a nightmare. And guess lucky soul got the job when he signed up. Yes, me. Haven’t had all that much work now, but now it’s in to winter and our troop are on our way to the woods in Bastogne to occupy the area until the Americans get there. Who knows what might happen in there.
“Come on Webber, off the truck!” Falling out of my day dream I stood up, jumped down from the truck and made my way across with the rest of the troops to where we would start digging our fox holes in.
Nothing happened within our first two days of arrival, well apart from being frozen to death. The sitting around and doing nothing didn’t last for long though, as over the week the Germans started launching early morning or late evening attacks to catch us off guard. This meant a lot of work for me – running around like a headless chicken tending the needs of the injured soldiers. I had barely had six hours sleep in the whole week and my hands feet had lost most feeling due to the cold.
It had been a full day without an attack and I was so exhausted and frozen. If I carried on like this it would be hard for me to perform my medic duties, let alone pull a trigger. I needed to go back to base camp to get a good night’s sleep and a warm meal. I went and asked around for Lieutenant Alann so that I could check that I could go for the night. After ten minutes or so of wandering around I found Lieutenant Alann. “Permission to speak sir,”
“Go ahead,” replied Lieutenant Alann, carrying on looking at his paperwork.
“Sir, I was wondering if I would be able to go back to base camp for the night? I’ve not had much sleep of the past week and I’m finding it hard to treat people for the numbness in my hands.”
Lieutenant Alann looked up “Well you look like you need a good warm rest and a full stomach,” he thought for a moment and then carried on “sure, you can go for one night, but make sure you’re back by twelve hundred hours as we need to prepare for an attack on the German tomorrow night.”
‘Great, an attack for me to look forward to when I get back’ I thought. “Thank you sir.” I took off quickly to base camp, so I could warm up straight away.
When I arrived at base camp I had barely had time to put my riffle down before I was rushed to the hospital part of camp to make up the medic numbers there to treat people who had been brought back from the woods. Although the place was slightly warmer I was starting to wish I was back in the woods now that I was at base camp. When I was at one place I wished I was at another – what I really wished was to be back home in England, sitting down to enjoy a Sunday roast. Of course that couldn’t happen so I had to put up with this.
I got away from the hospital at about 8 O’clock and managed to scrounge some hot soup and bread to eat. I ate it as if there was no tomorrow, with the warm soup feeling so good flowing down my throat. I went straight to bed after to get as long a sleep as possible ready for tomorrow. There was something bugging me though – my left index finger was still numb and cold, I thought that it could be a frost bite, but I didn’t like the idea of having my finger cut off and thought I would give it a bit more time. My thoughts started drifting away as I slowing fell off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning feeling the warmest I had been in a very long while. I turned over and saw the clock showing 11.30, I quickly got out of bed and put my uniform on. I rushed a quick breakfast and warm drink and caught a truck back into the woods. I arrived just in time for the meeting preparing for the night’s attack.
The rest of the day flew past, even with the cold. Men were either too eager for night to come or too nervous for it. The night came and we launched the attack. It was not long before I was at work nursing men’s wounds. I was doing this without the use of my left index finger. The pain had become unbearable, it was a frost bit and it had to come off and soon. I would have to find a place out of the way to do it – this mattered more than the other men’s needs, as after I would be able to treat them properly.
I looked around and found a half dug fox hole. I crouched down in it and pulled out my pair of scissors. I drew them closer to my finger. Treating other men was hard but to do it to myself. . . ‘No this has to be done.’ I thought. I turned my head away and close my eyes and forced the scissor blades together. With a thud on the ground I knew it had come off.
I looked round and saw my finger, with blood in the snow, but when I look up at my hand I saw no blood coming from it. I looked down and my body and I saw the bullet wound in my stomach. With an instance I felt immense pain. The blood kept on coming but I hadn’t a clue what to do. Slowly but surely I started to weaken. I heard distant cries of “Medic!” – For how I wanted to go help, or were the cries for me? The question would never be answered as I faded away into the pool of my own blood.
Decent story, could have done with a little more detail in places, and the idea of the ending was good, but the delivery left it a little lacking.
SSC31 – Bloody Bastogne
“Yes Deacin, very funny. Just remember that it’ll be me running to save you when you get shot out in the battlefield.” Silence fell upon the troop as the truck carrying them went over a rock. “No, didn’t think it would be so funny now.”
Being a reserve isn’t the best of jobs amongst the troops, but a reserve medic well that’s just a nightmare. And guess lucky soul got the job when he signed up. Yes, me. Haven’t had all that much work now, but now it’s in to winter and our troop are on our way to the woods in Bastogne to occupy the area until the Americans get there. Who knows what might happen in there.
“Come on Webber, off the truck!” Falling out of my day dream I stood up, jumped down from the truck and made my way across with the rest of the troops to where we would start digging our fox holes in.
Nothing happened within our first two days of arrival, well apart from being frozen to death. The sitting around and doing nothing didn’t last for long though, as over the week the Germans started launching early morning or late evening attacks to catch us off guard. This meant a lot of work for me – running around like a headless chicken tending the needs of the injured soldiers. I had barely had six hours sleep in the whole week and my hands feet had lost most feeling due to the cold.
It had been a full day without an attack and I was so exhausted and frozen. If I carried on like this it would be hard for me to perform my medic duties, let alone pull a trigger. I needed to go back to base camp to get a good night’s sleep and a warm meal. I went and asked around for Lieutenant Alann so that I could check that I could go for the night. After ten minutes or so of wandering around I found Lieutenant Alann. “Permission to speak sir,”
“Go ahead,” replied Lieutenant Alann, carrying on looking at his paperwork.
“Sir, I was wondering if I would be able to go back to base camp for the night? I’ve not had much sleep of the past week and I’m finding it hard to treat people for the numbness in my hands.”
Lieutenant Alann looked up “Well you look like you need a good warm rest and a full stomach,” he thought for a moment and then carried on “sure, you can go for one night, but make sure you’re back by twelve hundred hours as we need to prepare for an attack on the German tomorrow night.”
‘Great, an attack for me to look forward to when I get back’ I thought. “Thank you sir.” I took off quickly to base camp, so I could warm up straight away.
When I arrived at base camp I had barely had time to put my riffle down before I was rushed to the hospital part of camp to make up the medic numbers there to treat people who had been brought back from the woods. Although the place was slightly warmer I was starting to wish I was back in the woods now that I was at base camp. When I was at one place I wished I was at another – what I really wished was to be back home in England, sitting down to enjoy a Sunday roast. Of course that couldn’t happen so I had to put up with this.
I got away from the hospital at about 8 O’clock and managed to scrounge some hot soup and bread to eat. I ate it as if there was no tomorrow, with the warm soup feeling so good flowing down my throat. I went straight to bed after to get as long a sleep as possible ready for tomorrow. There was something bugging me though – my left index finger was still numb and cold, I thought that it could be a frost bite, but I didn’t like the idea of having my finger cut off and thought I would give it a bit more time. My thoughts started drifting away as I slowing fell off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning feeling the warmest I had been in a very long while. I turned over and saw the clock showing 11.30, I quickly got out of bed and put my uniform on. I rushed a quick breakfast and warm drink and caught a truck back into the woods. I arrived just in time for the meeting preparing for the night’s attack.
The rest of the day flew past, even with the cold. Men were either too eager for night to come or too nervous for it. The night came and we launched the attack. It was not long before I was at work nursing men’s wounds. I was doing this without the use of my left index finger. The pain had become unbearable, it was a frost bit and it had to come off and soon. I would have to find a place out of the way to do it – this mattered more than the other men’s needs, as after I would be able to treat them properly.
I looked around and found a half dug fox hole. I crouched down in it and pulled out my pair of scissors. I drew them closer to my finger. Treating other men was hard but to do it to myself. . . ‘No this has to be done.’ I thought. I turned my head away and close my eyes and forced the scissor blades together. With a thud on the ground I knew it had come off.
I looked round and saw my finger, with blood in the snow, but when I look up at my hand I saw no blood coming from it. I looked down and my body and I saw the bullet wound in my stomach. With an instance I felt immense pain. The blood kept on coming but I hadn’t a clue what to do. Slowly but surely I started to weaken. I heard distant cries of “Medic!” – For how I wanted to go help, or were the cries for me? The question would never be answered as I faded away into the pool of my own blood.
“Yes Deacin, very funny. Just remember that it’ll be me running to save you when you get shot out in the battlefield.” Silence fell upon the troop as the truck carrying them went over a rock. “No, didn’t think it would be so funny now.”
Being a reserve isn’t the best of jobs amongst the troops, but a reserve medic well that’s just a nightmare. And guess lucky soul got the job when he signed up. Yes, me. Haven’t had all that much work now, but now it’s in to winter and our troop are on our way to the woods in Bastogne to occupy the area until the Americans get there. Who knows what might happen in there.
“Come on Webber, off the truck!” Falling out of my day dream I stood up, jumped down from the truck and made my way across with the rest of the troops to where we would start digging our fox holes in.
Nothing happened within our first two days of arrival, well apart from being frozen to death. The sitting around and doing nothing didn’t last for long though, as over the week the Germans started launching early morning or late evening attacks to catch us off guard. This meant a lot of work for me – running around like a headless chicken tending the needs of the injured soldiers. I had barely had six hours sleep in the whole week and my hands feet had lost most feeling due to the cold.
It had been a full day without an attack and I was so exhausted and frozen. If I carried on like this it would be hard for me to perform my medic duties, let alone pull a trigger. I needed to go back to base camp to get a good night’s sleep and a warm meal. I went and asked around for Lieutenant Alann so that I could check that I could go for the night. After ten minutes or so of wandering around I found Lieutenant Alann. “Permission to speak sir,”
“Go ahead,” replied Lieutenant Alann, carrying on looking at his paperwork.
“Sir, I was wondering if I would be able to go back to base camp for the night? I’ve not had much sleep of the past week and I’m finding it hard to treat people for the numbness in my hands.”
Lieutenant Alann looked up “Well you look like you need a good warm rest and a full stomach,” he thought for a moment and then carried on “sure, you can go for one night, but make sure you’re back by twelve hundred hours as we need to prepare for an attack on the German tomorrow night.”
‘Great, an attack for me to look forward to when I get back’ I thought. “Thank you sir.” I took off quickly to base camp, so I could warm up straight away.
When I arrived at base camp I had barely had time to put my riffle down before I was rushed to the hospital part of camp to make up the medic numbers there to treat people who had been brought back from the woods. Although the place was slightly warmer I was starting to wish I was back in the woods now that I was at base camp. When I was at one place I wished I was at another – what I really wished was to be back home in England, sitting down to enjoy a Sunday roast. Of course that couldn’t happen so I had to put up with this.
I got away from the hospital at about 8 O’clock and managed to scrounge some hot soup and bread to eat. I ate it as if there was no tomorrow, with the warm soup feeling so good flowing down my throat. I went straight to bed after to get as long a sleep as possible ready for tomorrow. There was something bugging me though – my left index finger was still numb and cold, I thought that it could be a frost bite, but I didn’t like the idea of having my finger cut off and thought I would give it a bit more time. My thoughts started drifting away as I slowing fell off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning feeling the warmest I had been in a very long while. I turned over and saw the clock showing 11.30, I quickly got out of bed and put my uniform on. I rushed a quick breakfast and warm drink and caught a truck back into the woods. I arrived just in time for the meeting preparing for the night’s attack.
The rest of the day flew past, even with the cold. Men were either too eager for night to come or too nervous for it. The night came and we launched the attack. It was not long before I was at work nursing men’s wounds. I was doing this without the use of my left index finger. The pain had become unbearable, it was a frost bit and it had to come off and soon. I would have to find a place out of the way to do it – this mattered more than the other men’s needs, as after I would be able to treat them properly.
I looked around and found a half dug fox hole. I crouched down in it and pulled out my pair of scissors. I drew them closer to my finger. Treating other men was hard but to do it to myself. . . ‘No this has to be done.’ I thought. I turned my head away and close my eyes and forced the scissor blades together. With a thud on the ground I knew it had come off.
I looked round and saw my finger, with blood in the snow, but when I look up at my hand I saw no blood coming from it. I looked down and my body and I saw the bullet wound in my stomach. With an instance I felt immense pain. The blood kept on coming but I hadn’t a clue what to do. Slowly but surely I started to weaken. I heard distant cries of “Medic!” – For how I wanted to go help, or were the cries for me? The question would never be answered as I faded away into the pool of my own blood.