At the Army Hospital:
The hospital – A place of sorrow, despair and misery. It’s whitewashed walls and barred windows creating some sort of prison. But this was no ordinary hospital….. every bed was occupied with wounded soldiers back from battle knowing their fate was sealed. The hospital lay dormant as the soldiers slept around me. But then a loud noise was heard outside the doors and distrubed the silence in the peaceful ward.
The door to the ward flung open and the doctor ran in. He was pushing a boy, about 19 years of age into the ward. There was only one bed left and that was at the very end of the ward. He rushed to the end of the ward and pushed the boy to the bed. We all helped him take the young boy off the stretcher and onto the bed. I then looked down at the poor boy and saw the horror that had befallen him. His skin was burnt, burnt so badly that he had red and black patches all over his body. This boy was alive we all knew that, but I could not begin to imagine the kind of pain this boy was currently in.
The doctor turned to us all and said “I need to speak with Mary alone.” I knew then that like the young boy my fate was sealed. I had to do my job no matter how much I may hate it along the way. The doctor turned to me, his deep blue eyes staring into my soul looking for a source of hope. “Mary, you are the nicest person I have met and one of the best nurses at this hospital. I think it’s only fitting that you care for this young boy, he needs someone like you by his side and I know that you will do well.”
At that note he looked back at the boy, a scarlet tear dropped down his face and I felt sorry for him. He said “Mustard Gas, who would have been so evil to create an invention like this. This young boy had his whole life ahead of him and it was all gone just because of this stupid war.” He turned and walked away proudly carrying himself, it was like he had not cried just a moment before. He stopped just before he left the ward and turned back to me, the look on his face said it all. This boy was going to die and it was all because of this stupid war we were in.
I switched my attention back to the boy, his handsome features could be made out underneath the horror. His blonde hair and deep blue eyes could have attracted any girl. I stroked his hair to make him aware that someone was here with him. He looked at me, a deep sense of pain could be seen in his eyes. However this young boy was not able to communicate his feelings, he just lay there staring up at the ceiling. As a looked at him more, a wave of curiosity came over me, what had done this to him? And why could I sense there was a lot more to this story than just this young boy nearing the end of his life. I wiped a tear from my cheek and I felt so sorry for this boy. What evil had done this to a young innocent life?