CHAPTER TWO - INTO THE MOUTH OF MADNESS

0730 hours
April 10th, 1968, China Beach, "Hell's Half Acre"

Lt. Rosenberg thought that she'd seen her fair share of death and dying, but nothing came close to the chaos that awaited her and Cpl. Harris when they burst through the swinging doors to the makeshift triage room of the 95th Evac unit. She's managed to tag along with an occasional ANZAC or US Marine patrol to get reconnaissance photos and the occasional photo to send to Stars and Stripes. If the good General had found out that his daughter was risking her pretty neck against his orders, he might have just blown a gasket. But Willow had been feeling guilty about sitting behind a desk while others were doing their part in more constructive ways, even if it cost them their lives.

The screams of men and women in pain shocked her into action. Some were writhing in agony; others were nearly comatose and bleeding from every possible place on their bodies. Nurses and doctors in various stages of blood-stained uniforms were flitting from bed to bed, making quick assessments and tagging the wounded according to severity of their injuries.

The stench of blood commingled with the sour smell of sweat and tears hit Willow in the chest like an errant wave. She just stared in disbelief at the level of carnage before her. Xander turned and gave her a determined look, "I'm gonna go see if any of my guys got hit. Will you be ok?"

She nodded briefly and he dashed off, barking orders to a couple of PFCs standing nearby. Nurses were running back and forth between doctors and patients with an economy of movement that was startling considering the maddening atmosphere. Willow soon figured out why that was. In the midst of the entire fracas, a pretty blonde Marine Captain was calmly directing the flow of traffic; her voice quiet and comforting amidst the noise. Apparently, she was a new arrival because she was still wearing her dress greens, not minding that they were covered in someone else's blood. Willow was impressed at this woman's demeanor; calm but still radiating an air of authority and command.

"Kaki?" the blonde called out to the nurse closest to her who was tending to a greenstick fracture, the poor victim growling in pain.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Make sure that Matty and Sgt. Brock get sent straight back to Dr. Kozlowski. They're only fairly bad off and he needs a breather anyway…he won't need to be in surgery for hours with them."

"Yes, Captain," the nurse replied with a brisk nod.

"Oh, and Brynn?"

"Yes, Captain?" came the reply from across the room where a slim brunette in fatigues was applying a tourniquet to an unconscious nurse who'd been badly wounded.

The blonde knelt at her side, her blue eyes deeply troubled. "How's Kate doing? Think she'll hold up?"

The brunette brushed her lightly over the pale nurse's forehead; unshed tears glistened in her eyes. "I sure hope so."

The blonde placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "Let the orderlies take her to Dr. Giles. He'll take good care of her." The nurse nodded and motioned to the orderlies to carry her litter into OR 2.

Willow watched the scene from a corner of the room where she had been gathering bandages and cotton wadding for the makeshift stations set up around the cluttered room. She once again marveled at the quiet strength that the blonde exuded. Taking a deep breath, the redhead walked up to her with every intention offering to help out. Clearing her throat, she attempted to get the officer's attention.

"Ahem, hi," Willow croaked. Good job, genius, she winced inwardly. You sound like an axe murderer. "Lt. Willow Rosenberg at your service, Captain," she held out a free hand for the blonde to shake. The Captain turned, gave the redhead a gentle smile and took the proffered hand.

"Capt. Tara Murphy MaClay. This is only my second in-country assignment. What a welcome," she commented with a wry smile. Willow shivered as an odd sense of déjà vu ran through her. The blonde gave her a questioning look. "Are you ok?"

Willow shrugged. "Yeah, all of this," she said as her dark green eyes swept about the room. "It can be tough to deal with sometimes. I don't think I've ever gotten used to it."

Tara glanced over at nurse covering the body of a now deceased young soldier with a white sheet. "I hope we never have to," she said in a near whisper. Her eyes had a haunted, faraway look in them.

Willow felt a twinge of sympathy in her chest for the young captain. "I'm going to go give OR 5 these bandages. There anything you need me to do after that?"

Tara snapped out of her reverie and tried to focus on what Willow was saying. "Hmm?" she asked distractedly.

"Do you need me to help out around here?" Willow repeated.

"Oh! Oh sure! It's going to be a long day and night, I think. We're going to need all the help we can get."

The redhead laid a comforting hand on Tara's shoulder. "Give me a minute and I'll take you to the nurses' quarters so you can change. It's going to get unbearably hot soon, oceanfront property or no," she chuckled wryly.

The blonde gave Willow a tired but grateful smile. "Thanks, that would be great—"

A loud bellow from across triage cut her off mid-sentence. Lance Corporal Osborne was standing in the door with blonde woman in jungle fatigues, her blood soaking his uniform as well as her own. "Hey! We need a gurney out here! Gunny Summers is hit real bad!" It was the last thing Willow heard before she hit the floor.

TBC...