In the busy operating room, the black man Will was still lying on the operating table and receiving treatment. But the military police captain Sean had been carried out by the confused Marshall, and the operating table with some charcoal remaining was replaced with a new one.
wounded.
Without enough time to calm down, Wei Ran took over Will's treatment. Dr. Bullock returned to the operating table where he was responsible and continued to work. As for Dr. Harrison, he picked up two new medical bags and left the operating room again and went outside.
Provide as much help as possible to those with relatively minor injuries.
Falling into the quiet operating room, Will suddenly said, "It was the white man named Sean who saved us."
Hearing this, Wei Ran and Dr. Bullock stopped their hands in unison. After a brief pause, they continued their business as if they had not heard anything.
"If he hadn't used his back to support the collapsed rafters of the bunker, we wouldn't have been able to move the two large barrels of napalm out in time. Once the napalm exploded, many people in the camp would have been burned to death."
Will picked up the bayonet that Wei Ran had pulled out from his thigh not long ago, looked at it, and said with lingering fear, "Then those rats threw a grenade in. 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, or what the military police captain who had a prejudice against black people was thinking at that time.
Will, the black man, sighed and involuntarily tightened his grip on the bayonet from the 38 cover.
The busy rescue work continued. Will was carried out of the operating room by two black stretcher bearers. Wei Ran, who had no time to take a breath, put on new rubber gloves and immediately started rescuing the next wounded person.
.
Gradually, the frequency of exchanges outside the operating room became lower and lower, and the sounds became farther and farther away. Finally, they died down and silence completely returned. At this time, the outside of the operating room had already been illuminated by the sun again, and the wounded were once again living in the hospital.
Entered the rebuilt tent.
"Victor, Brock, you can rest."
Dr. Harrison, whose eyes were bloodshot, walked into the operating room and said in a hoarse voice. Behind him, there were two doctors who had changed into surgical clothes and two male nurses.
Hearing this, the tired Wei Ran and Dr. Bullock looked at each other, nodded indiscriminately, and then continued to devote themselves to the unfinished work at hand.
It wasn't until they each finished suturing the wounds that they all breathed a sigh of relief. They took off their rubber gloves and surgical clothes that were already stained with blood, took off their masks, walked out of the operating room arm-in-arm, and looked for the nearest doctor.
A truck, each untied his belt and poured a long-lasting parabola at the tire.
“I didn’t expect that I could persevere.”
Bullock shivered, pulled up his pants and sighed, "Victor, I finally understand why Jenny... I'm sorry."
Halfway through, Bullock suddenly remembered that Nurse Jenny was no longer here.
"It's not you who should be sorry." Wei Ran also buckled his belt, "Go back and rest."
"This is for you"
Bullock took out a metal pipe plug from his arms and gave it to Wei Yan, "Havana cigars, the high-end goods I bought before coming to Guam."
"Thanks"
Wei Ran took the cigar tube and put it into his pocket, "I have nothing to give you. If you have time tonight, I'll treat you to a beer."
"Can you get beer?" Bullock didn't take it seriously at all. "You can treat me to a drink after we return to Pearl Island."
Wei Ran smiled and said nothing. After bidding farewell to the other party, he staggered towards the tent not far away.
However, when he opened the tent door, he immediately discovered something was wrong. In this tent with a large number of bullet holes, there were not only Tom who had an injured butt and Marshall who survived the grenade explosion and even had nothing to do yesterday.
Randy, the stretcher bearer who hadn't been seen at night, was also there, but he was also shirtless and wrapped in a large piece of gauze.
But what surprised him even more was the black man Will!
He was playing poker with Randy and Tom at this time, and the neatly arranged bullets on the ammunition boxes in front of them also hinted that this card game had obviously been going on for a long time.
Marshall, on the other hand, was sitting alone on a wooden box, carefully wiping pistol parts of different shapes.
Although it seemed strange to have a black man in this tent, what made Wei Ran even more dumbfounded was that it had only been one night, and now not only was a rifle placed at the head of every bed, but even under the bed,
There was also a circle of sandbags along the edge of the tent, especially at the head of Tom's bed, and there was even an extra Thompson submachine gun hanging!
"What are you..." Wei Ran asked before abruptly changing his words, "Randy, where are you injured?"
"back"
Randy and Wei Ran bumped their fists, cleared their throats and said happily, "I was slashed by a mouse with a command knife last night."
"Severely injured?"
"There is such a long wound"
Randy used his hands to draw a length of more than thirty centimeters, then simply put down the playing cards in his hand, stood up, picked up a command knife from his bed, and proudly showed off, "But then I killed
He killed him and brought back his command knife."
"Your fortune is good"
As Wei Ran spoke, he looked at Will, looking at the 1911 pistol that had recently appeared on his waist and the Japanese bayonet that he had pulled out from his leg last night, 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 wiping the gun parts.
Marshall, whose eyes were bloodshot, raised his head and glanced 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."
Then, as if he knew what Wei Ran wanted to ask, Tom patted Will on the shoulder and took the initiative to explain, "I asked him to stay. Now we have many black wounded here. Will can help me comfort him if he stays."
They, of course, for God's sake, Mr. Battalion Commander and Mr. Marshall have no problem with it."
You would think of a way...
Wei Ran muttered to himself and said 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 already finished hosting me and
Marshall’s Mass.”
These words deliberately said to Marshall made the latter raise his head again, and for the first time, he said thank you to Will in a hoarse voice, and even took the initiative to salute Will.
But the despair in his eyes made everyone in the tent sigh.
"Marshall"
Tom dropped the poker in his hand, climbed out of bed with difficulty, and limped to Marshall's side, "Sean is dead. This is something that even God can't change. But I think he definitely doesn't want to.
See what you look like now."
"I'm fine, I'm fine."
Marshall exhaled forcefully and quickly assembled the parts on the table into a 1911 pistol. While groping for the burn marks on the wooden patch of the gun handle, he comforted himself in a relaxed tone, "There are no undead people in war. It's just
I just happened to choose that bastard Sean. You see, I know it all, so there is no need to persuade me."
Tom sighed and spread his hands towards Wei Ran and others, "Let him calm down. Even God can't help him at this time."
"It's like God helped us last night," Wei Ran couldn't help but joke, and casually took out the cigar that Dr. Bullock had given him before and threw it to Marshall, "It's for 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 embedded with bullets from under the pillow and shook it, "I am a devout believer, so God helped me block this bullet. This is your
Saw it with my own eyes!”
"But I was the one who killed the man who shot you, and there was only one other cigar."
Wei Ran, who was deliberately making jokes, sat down on his bed, "What's wrong? Your God does all the good things, and I do all the dirty things of murder and arson?"
Before Wei Ran finished speaking, Randy was the first to burst out laughing, and then Marshall, who was originally in a low mood, couldn't help but smile.
On the other hand, Will, a black man, crossed himself on his chest so piously that Wei Ran couldn't help but want to say "Goodness" or "Immeasurable God" on his behalf.
Pastor Tom opened his mouth, picked up the fancy 1911 that was also placed under the pillow, and changed the subject, "Put God's things aside for now, Victor, you bastard actually left my pistol in the trench, you
Don’t you think you should apologize to me? Like a cigar or something?”
"Haven't you already found them all?"
Wei Ran, who didn't feel any guilt at all, sat down on his bed, reached out and picked up the M1 carbine leaning on the bedside, and also changed the subject and asked, "There's really only one cigar, but where do these come from?"
Are you equipping us with weapons?"
"Marshall took me to pick it up before dawn."
Randy explained with a smile, "He was in charge of the weapons and I was in charge of the ammunition, but the sandbags around were made by Tom and Will."
"Are you planning to turn this tent into a trench?"
Wei Ran asked dumbfounded. This was more or less a way to make up for the situation. Speaking of which, there was more than just a carbine on his bed. In addition, there were five or six 1911 pistol magazines and a dozen carbine magazines. Even in the bed
There were still traces of dried blood on some magazines.
Looking at the other people's bedsides, the configurations are basically the same. Except for Pastor Tom's bedside, which has a Thompson submachine gun, the rest of the three have M1s with a longer range and more power.
Garland. It is obvious that Marshall has carefully considered when preparing these weapons.
"At least the next time we are approached by those rats, we won't have weapons to fight back."
After lighting up his only cigar, Marshall finally joined the conversation, which made everyone who had nothing to say sigh in relief, and even Will had a simple and honest smile on his face.
"Although I don't think it's possible for those rats to come over again, having these weapons around does make me feel more at ease." Wei Ran was the first to acknowledge Marshall's efforts.
“We have prepared more than just these things”
While Randy was speaking, he had already fastened the tent door tightly as he had done in the past when secretly drinking beer.
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 immediately widened. There were no less than 20 MARKII grenades in this not-so-big box!
"Did you prepare this too?" Wei Ran looked at Marshall and asked.
The latter spread his hands and said nonchalantly as usual, "It's just a box of grenades."
"Stop talking about this"
Tom snatched the cigar from Marshall's hand and took a puff, then winked at the black man Will, who immediately closed the lid of the box, covered it with a blanket again, and pushed it back to the corner under the bed.
Until this moment, Tom made a arrogant suggestion, "Now that we are all injured, if nothing happens, we won't have to do anything for at least half a month in the future, so Victor, should you go get some beer?"
Come and celebrate?”
"Then we have to wait until I get some sleep."
Wei Ran had already taken off his boots as he spoke, and also promised, "Let's wait until night. I'll think of a solution tonight. Before that, you'd better prepare some food in advance."
