Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 9

General had located behind one of the few stone shelters that the Mippites had left behind. Then I looked again. The dressing station was gone. All that remained were fragments of bone and flesh and fabric. A shell had hit it.
    I looked, not very hopefully, toward the western slope of the hill; we were not expecting the stretcher-bearers to arrive for another hour. But there they were, peering over the crest of the summit.
    I saw the head stretcher-bearer among them, and I waved my hand energetically. He did not hesitate. He said something to his men; two of them trotted over the crest, holding a stretcher.
    And were immediately shot down. One minute, there were stretcher-bearers; the next minute, there were only corpses.
    The head stretcher-bearer was a man of grit. After a moment's hesitation, he gave new orders; a second pair of stretcher-bearers darted forward to take up the burden.
    They made it halfway to the General's rock before a shell hit them.
    In despair, I looked down at the General. His eyes were open but were wide with pain; I didn't think he could see me. Blood continued to seep out of his wound. His soldier-servant and messenger-lad were dabbing at it in an ineffectual manner which suggested that they had no more experience at first aid than I did.
    And then – lo, the courage of men! – help arrived, in the form of the head stretcher-bearer and one of his men. I had not even thought to look for assistance from that quarter again, but the two men had braved the crossfire to reach the General. The head stretcher-bearer knelt down; without awaiting instructions, he pulled out a roll of cloth and began bandaging the General's shoulder.
    I watched, fascinated. I could not believe that Healer Mahone had entrusted the colonials with medical supplies; the stretcher-bearers' job was simply to take the wounded to the field hospital, after the dressing station on the hill had done its work. But it seemed that the stretcher-bearers were better prepared than any of the rest of us for this crisis.
    "Good man!" I cried, so much overcome by gratitude that I thumped the head stretcher-bearer on his back. "You're a credit to your empire!"
    The head stretcher-bearer gave me an opaque look and then returned to his work. It occurred to me that, even supposing he understood the tongue that the Dozen Landsteads and Yclau share, he might be somewhat less than enthusiastic at the idea of being praised for his participation in an empire that had colonized his land through force. Indeed, he might even sympathize with the Mippites in this conflict.
    If so, he did not allow his political views to muddle his work. When the bandages were in place, he and his fellow colonial lifted the General onto the stretcher. They did so gently, but the pain of movement cut through the General's grogginess. He half sat up and looked around, his eyes blinking.
    I knelt next to him. "Sir, you've been wounded," I informed him. "Don't worry; the stretcher-bearers are here. They'll take you to the field hospital."
    "No," he said hoarsely. "No! I must stay here! My men need me!"
    His messenger-lad stared open-mouthed. His soldier-servant, after a moment of shock, took on an expression of quiet pride.
    For the second time, I was filled with admiration for the General. But the practical part of my mind was running along different lines.
    "Yes, sir," I said, pushing him carefully down onto the stretcher. "Just as soon as the dressing station has tended your wound. We've moved the dressing station onto the western slope, because the crossfire here is too hot. Wait for the doctor to tend you; then you can return to your duties."
    For once, the General did not protest sensible advice. He closed his eyes, muttering something about his duty to his men.
    His soldier-servant, who had been in consultation with the head stretcher-bearer, now shouted in my ear – for whispers were impossible to hear under these circumstances – "Sir, the stretcher-bearers think it would be best to wait until new doctors arrive and examine him before moving him far. They suggest that they wait on the slope for the arrival of the rest of the medical corps that is supposed to help on the summit."
    "Very well!" I shouted back. "You go with him. Whatever happens, make sure he doesn't return to the summit."
    The soldier-servant gave me a long look, which suggested that he understood all the reasons why I was eager to remove the General from the summit. But he replied, "Yes, sir.