Leaving For London
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a short story about how Dr. Dawson spent his last few days in Afghanistan before returning to London.
I'm still trying to finish up "A New Beginning", not to mention I'm moving my GMD website, & I have plenty of other projects (mostly GMD-oriented)...so forgive me if you don't hear from me for a short while.
Dr. Dawson (C) Disney.
Major Martinson & other members of the 66th Regiment (C) me. Please ask me before using them. (Thanks in advance.)
Enjoy the story! (And be sure to send a review! Flames are no-kay, but constructive criticism is fine.)
The date was July 16, 1897. Heavy gunfire poured down on us as Major Marvin J. Martinson & I hurried to get out of the line of fire.
"C'mon, Marvin!" I told my friend. "We have to hurry, or we'll surely get killed out here!"
As Marvin struggled to keep up with me, various thoughts rushed through my pounding head...
Oh...I don't believe I've properly introduced myself. My name is Dr. David Q. Dawson, & I'm currently telling you about my last few days as a surgeon for the mouse army in the Afghan War.
Now, where was I? Oh, yes...
I was worrying about what had happened to the rest of our troop, for we had not seen them for over a week. I was feeling guilty about the atrocity I had committed the other day when I accidentally killed an Afghan mother mouse & left her two daughters & husband with a terrible, crushing loss. And most of all, I was feeling sick & despaired by all this fighting.
I wanted to go home, back to London. I wanted to see my brother & family again.
Oh, Osgood would have such fun picking on me when I got back...I couldn't wait to hear his laugh again...
But the last of my wishful thinking was interrupted by my screams of pain...& my world going black.
I woke up later that night feeling terrible. My head was spinning, my throat felt groggy, & my right shoulder was hurting like...well, you know.
After getting my bearings, I noticed that I was in the infirmary tent at the battle camp. Marvin was beside me, as well as the last living members of our troop: Captain Anne Gripling, Sargeant Carl Bloomsbury, Lieutenant John Ranier, General Blake Woodsey, Admiral Alfred Tennyson, Commander Kevin Peabody, & Private James Harrison.
As soon as I could speak, the first thing I remember saying was, "What the deuce happened?"
"A Jezail rifle ball from the enemy hit your shoulder," Captain Gripling said with her cool grin. "We were lucky to get you to the infirmary in time, or you would have been dead on the spot!"
"Major Martinson took out the bullet for you," explained Private Harrison, the youngest of our now-small battallion.
Admiral Tennyson added, "He was the first to volunteer!"
I looked over at my friend. I always knew that Marvin was a dependable sort, but now I finally, truly realized that I could always count on Marvin to help me out in troublesome times like this.
"Captain Gripling..." I started weakly.
"Yes?" the female leader asked sweetly.
With a grunt, I said, "As soon as I get better...I'd like an honorable discharge from the army."
The next few weeks had gone by pretty smoothly. I had completely healed from my wound (although every now & again, my hurt shoulder would act up), not to mention recently received an honorable discharge & a Purple Heart medal for my being wounded in the line of duty.
(Or rather, in retrospect, for getting punished for killing that poor mother...)
As I began to make my way onto the boat, I told Major Martinson, "Marvin, promise you won't forget me?"
Marvin smiled his usual grin & put a playful slap on my shoulder (the wounded one), causing me to wince as he said merrily, "You think I'd forget my best army buddy? Of course not, you old goat!"
Taking my black medical bag, I said with a warm smile, "That's good to know, Marvin."
Making my way onto the boat that was going to take me to England, I waved "goodbye" to Marvin, who waved back & smiled.
Then I took out a copy of The Illustrated London Mouse, & began to read peacefully as the boat made its way to England.
I was finally going home.
THE END
