Part 16

"Good--we shall be able to get off early, at two or three in the morning if we're lucky. We can take things easy a bit."

The bearers came in with a stretcher.

"Take it easy, bearers. There's no hurry--we haven't got many more to do. Just put him on that table there."

The newcomer's left leg was thickly bandaged, but the blood was oozing through and forming a pool on the table. When the bandage was removed, Captain Dowden examined the limb, but no injury was visible on the upper surface. I grasped the foot--it was blue and cold. I raised it, so that the surgeon could look at the under-surface of the leg. As I did so, the calf gave way in the middle. He told me angrily to pull harder. I pulled until the leg was taut again. The muscles and the sinews squeaked faintly as they stretched. Underneath the calf was a big hole and the bone had been completely shattered. The man was strangely quiet. His bare chest did not move. I looked at his face and suddenly I saw his lower jaw drop. He was dead.

"Another slab for the mortuary!"

The remaining tables were empty and no more wounded were brought in for a while. The bearers were obeying the surgeon's order and were taking a rest. The officers and sisters in the theatre were in high spirits. They were trying to speak French and ridiculing each other's efforts. Captain Wycherley began to hum a tune and wave his amputation knife like the conductor of an orchestra, whereupon the others locked arms and danced up and down the theatre, talking and joking. Then Captain Calthrop broke away and danced by himself, kicking his legs up in the air. The Sisters watched him and laughed loudly. One of them could hardly control herself, and shrieking with laughter, cried:

"Oh, Captain Calthrop, you really are too funny!"

Captain Dowden had not joined in the merrymaking. He was standing by the table on which the corpse was lying. He smiled uneasily and said to an orderly: "Tie up his jaw and his feet and hands and take him away. And tell the bearers to get a move on. Let's get finished as quickly as possible."

The orderly pushed the dead man's lower jaw sharply against the upper, so that the teeth clicked, and kept it in position by tying a bandage right round the head. Then he crossed the dead hands and feet and tied them together also.

He went to the door and shouted, "Bearers!"

But only one bearer appeared with a stretcher over his shoulder. I helped him to lift the corpse on to it and carry it away. It was an intensely black night. All was silent except for an occasional muffled boom in the distance and the sound of someone whimpering in one of the wards. Our load was very heavy and we had to feel our way slowly along the duckboards. When they came to an end we walked through the grass. I was in front and all at once I tripped over some obstacle. With a strenuous effort I retained my balance but nearly tipped the dead man off the stretcher. We walked on, but did not reach the mortuary, although we should have done so long ago. We put the stretcher down and looked around. The darkness enveloped us like a mantle. We could see nothing except a few shafts of light that shone through chinks in the walls of the distant operating theatre. Roughly guessing our direction we continued our journey. I felt a tent rope brushing against my leg. I stepped over it and encountered another, while the orderly knocked his foot against a peg. We put the stretcher down a second time. It rested partly on the ground and partly on the ropes, and we held the corpse for fear it should roll off. We shouted for a light. Someone answered near by and struck a match. The momentary glimmer was sufficient to show that we were standing amongst the ropes of the mortuary marquee. The man struck another match to show us the way in. We entered and added our burden to a double row of other dead, who lay there in the flickering match-light staring at the roof with sightless eyes and rigid, expressionless faces.

When we got back to the theatre all the three teams were busy again.

The bearers came in with a case, and one of them said:

"This is the last Englishman, sir. There's about half a dozen Fritzes to do, sir."

"Bring 'em along--let's get the job done."

The swing-doors were pushed open and two bearers appeared with a stretcher on which a man clothed in grey was lying. His dark hair was matted. His boyish face was intensely white. His eyes were closed. He gave a hardly audible moan with every breath. A blanket was drawn up to his chin.

"Is this a Hun or a gentleman?" asked Captain Calthrop.

"A 'Un, sir," said one of the bearers and grinned.

"Dump him on the table!"

The blanket was removed and a blood-sodden strip of linen unwound from the German boy's right forearm, which was hanging to his shoulder by a few shreds of flesh and sinew.

"Tell him his arm's got to come off."

I explained to the boy that it would be necessary to remove his arm in order to save his life.

He did not seem to understand at first and looked at me with a puzzled expression. Then he suddenly broke into a wail, like a little child, and cried, "Ach Jesus, ach Jesus, ach Jesus ..."

The chloroform mask soon muffled his cries and he became unconscious. I grasped his cold hand and slender wrist. The arm was rapidly amputated. The red stump with the disc of severed bone in the middle was cleaned and bandaged and he was carried back to the prisoners' ward, retching and vomiting.

On Captain Wheeler's table lay a healthy looking German with a bronzed face. His legs were pitted with a great number of small wounds caused by minute bomb fragments. The mask was clapped over his mouth and the chloroform allowed to drip on to it. But he inhaled the fumes with difficulty, and began to choke.

The anaesthetist got angry and snarled:

"That's it, choke away--a choker like all the rest of them--you blasted race of murderers--I'm sorry for the individual though, this deluded fool, for instance."

Captain Dowden was vainly trying to converse with a German who had been hit in the back. The bullet had passed through the lower part of his lung, and then through the abdomen, leaving a hole through which part of the intestine projected.