22 July, 1916…
I watched warily as Piper sat with Kayla, one of the newer nurses who had arrived only a week ago. The young girl was shaking, and tears ran down her face as Piper used a wet rag to clean her up. She wiped both tears and splattered blood off of her features, trying her best to comfort her. We were sitting in our own quarters, having just finished our shift together. Kayla had made a mistake that most nurses tried to avoid at all cost: crying in front of the soldiers.
Piper tucked some of Kayla's short ginger hair behind her ear, saying, "It's alright to cry. Just not in front of the boys. Never in front of the boys."
"I just—I just couldn't—help it." Kayla explained. "He asked me if he was going to be alright. And I—I told him yes, and he just closed his eyes and—and he was gone."
Piper pulled her into a tight embrace, rocking her a bit. "I know. I know. That's the job."
I found myself tearing up a bit, just watching the two of them, so I turned away and studied the grime underneath my fingernails. I was tired and had been battling a headache for the past few days, not that I had told anyone. Piper would just worry, and everyone had enough on their plate as it was. The sticky summer heat didn't help a bit, but I preferred it to the chill of winter. It reminded me of summer evenings on the Long Island Sound, watching the sun alongside my makeshift family. The same family that was now stretched across the world, so many of us in different countries.
It was difficult, living here. The Somme Offensive wasn't going well, to say the least. There had been so many casualties on the first day, July 1st, it had felt as though we were being punished for the small amount of happiness that was Piper and Jason's wedding. There had indeed been a preacher present that night, and the newly reunited couple had exchanged vows then and there. If they made it out of this war alive, they would have some story to tell their children.
"You need a sabbatical?" Will asked, stepping into our space. I glanced over at him as he leaned up against one of the support posts that held up our roof. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked as exhausted as I was. We hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few days, what with the retreat of troops from Fromelles; which lead to a staggering number of soldiers coming for medical aid. The losses that occurred there were disheartening—several thousand of our soldiers had died, the majority of them being a members of the Australian Imperial Force. Those who made it to us for treatment weren't far behind them. I had seen far too many men die in the past month.
Somehow Will managed to look calm and collected as he stood there—if not a little haggard. I managed to press my lips into a thin smile. "When all of this is over, my sabbatical may last longer than just six months."
"No kidding." Piper chimed in after Kayla had gotten up to return to her own area. "I may just retire."
"What will you do?" I asked. I was curious; I had studied medicine for so long, I didn't know what I would do if I wasn't going to practice it anymore.
"At one time, I wanted to see the world." Piper mused. "I wanted to travel and see other cultures…Now? I don't know. I think I would give anything just to go home to England."
Will genuinely smiled as his mind wandered to the future. "I think I'm going to go Italy."
Piper and I grinned as he continued, a wistful expression overcoming his features.
"There's a cottage there that's just up the street from the beach. It has vines on the wall outside of the doorway." He fished a folded-up piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. On it was the sketched image of a house. Just as Will had said, it had a crawling vine that crept around the trellises that framed the entryway. It looked like paradise.
"How long has it been in his family?" Piper asked, her teasing smile making Will blush slightly. I took the paper from his extended hand and ran my fingers over the charcoal drawing. Captain di Angelou was talented, that was for sure. There was a depth to it that I hadn't expected.
"Longer than I've been alive." Will answered. "Nothing is keeping me in England. It may have been where I was born, but after my mother died—there's no one I would want to stay there for."
It didn't need to be voiced that Will had no close relationship with his father. They may have been family by blood, but Will had no respect for his father's dealings in chemical warfare. Each of them agreed that the war would have been less deadly without his contributions.
"What will you do, Annabeth?" Piper asked, pulling me out of thought.
"I'm not sure where I will end up." I shrugged. "My family is in the States and Percy's is in London, where we've agreed to meet when all of this is over. I think if the both of us make it out unscathed, we'll be happy to live anywhere. It'll have to be by the water, though. Percy's made that a requirement. Not that I mind."
Piper smirked at me. We had talked about this before. She seemed to find the pace of Percy and I's relationship amusing. We had admitted that we loved each other but neither of us had said a single thing about marriage after this. I think we both just assumed it would happen.
"But where do you want to live?" Will asked, knowing full well where.
"Manhattan, of course." I replied. "I think Percy would like it there too. He's mentioned how crowded London has gotten, but he still wants to be in a city, so I think I can convince him to at least visit."
The three of us continued to talk about the future as the sun began to sink below the horizon. Will left to get some rest and Piper and I decided to get ready to do the same. We changed our socks for the second time that day. It was a necessity to keep our feet dry. The summer rains made it difficult to do so, so we changed them multiple times a day and hung them to dry on the protruding nails of our structure. Sleep always came and went quickly.
A new day dawned, and Piper and I arose to relieve our counterparts from the night shift. To tell the truth, since we weren't working in a hospital anymore, there was a lot less to do. Serious cases were sent to Saint John's, so there were no long surgeries to keep our hands busy all day. The injured came in waves, and in between those waves were long bouts of boredom.
Piper, Will, and I would lean up against our one table, which was really just overturned crates with a canvas sheet draped over it. Our supplies remained in our trunks which sat on top of a stack of empty artillery boxes. When shouts in the distance were heard, we jumped to receive them.
Two men stumbled in; their fellow comrade slung between them as they struggled with his weight. Will helped them lift the man onto the table. He had already passed out, his arm heavily damaged and his uniform soaked with blood.
"He's lost a lot of blood." One of them said, stating the obvious. The other was leaning over his friend's head, brushing the hair out of his face.
"Private Miller." Piper referenced his dog tags as she checked his pulse, "His carotid is still strong—"
"But he definitely nicked his brachial artery." Will finished for her, already applying pressure on the wound.
"Is that really bad?" One of the soldiers asked.
"It's not good." Will replied as I made sure to inspect the rest of his body for any other injuries. "He may already have lost too much blood—necrosis is already setting into his fingers."
"If we amputate, he'll surely die." I agreed with Will, not entirely sure what to do. He needed blood, but there was no surefire way of getting it. The blood bank was at the hospital, where they could ensure that a transfusion would have success after determining his ABO group.
One of the soldiers held out his arm. "If he needs blood, use mine. I've seen it done before. Just hook us up and let me give him mine."
"It's not that simple—" Piper tried to explain.
"I'm type O, whatever that means." He insisted. "I've given blood before."
My eyebrows shot up. I recalled Karl Landsteiner's research on the blood groups. Type O could donate to anyone. I just had never done a transfusion in the field before. I nodded to Piper, "Get me a paraffin tube and two syringes."
"You know what you're doing?" Will muttered to me.
I gave him a worried glance, a crease forming between my brows. "I've seen it done once by one of the Canadian doctors at the clearing station. I think I know the basis of what needs to happen."
Will nodded subtly as I turned to the donating soldier. "I need you to understand that this may not work. It may be too late. But we're going to try."
He nodded as Piper pushed him down to sit on a crate, his arm lying on our table as I took one of the syringes from her. First, I inserted the hypodermic needle and attached the other side to the tubing, keeping the stopcock closed as I told Piper to place her finger over the opening on the other side of the tube. Meanwhile, Will kept pressure on the wound, making sure to keep his attention on our patient's pulse.
I opened the stopcock, allowing blood to flow through the paraffin tube. Piper allowed all of the air to be flushed from the inside, some of the excess spilling over her gloved hand. She held still as I instilled the second syringe further down on Miller's injured arm.
"Here we go." I said as I motioned for Piper to connect the line. The second stopcock was opened, and we began transfusing. I would breathe a sigh of relief in a few minutes when there was no evidence of clotting. Our donor laid his head down on the table next to his friend's.
It was now time to patch the injured artery. It seemed a little counter-intuitive to do it after, but it couldn't be helped. Piper took over Will's position without having to be told, and together, we slowly stitched the vessel closed. Slowly, the darkening tinge of the man's fingers was disappearing. We had gotten to him in time to save the arm. I took a deep breath and mumbled to myself, "I can't believe that worked."
Will let out a breathy scoff that turned into a laugh. "You and me both. Thank God for your damn near perfect memory."
Piper checked up on the donating man, who was beginning to look a little woozy. She forced him to gulp down some water and a few crackers, which seemed to help a bit. In the meantime, Will turned to the other observing soldier, "So, what the hell happened?"
The soldier uncrossed his arms and sighed. "Artillery shell exploded, nearly caved in one of our lines. Miller got cut trying to catch part of the supports before it could collapse and cause a cave in."
Will rose his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "Was he successful?"
The officer managed a small grin. "Yes, sir."
"Well, thank goodness for that." Piper smiled. She had shed her bloody gloves and was now fiddling with her wedding ring, a habit that had developed over the past few months. I checked the transfusion line again, trying to gauge when it would be a good time to disconnect the two men.
"Let's give it a few more minutes." Will concluded. I agreed and took another deep breath; the adrenaline fading from my blood system. This was certainly something I wouldn't forget anytime soon. Our success had launched all of us into pleasant moods, and we would try to savor it whilst it lasted.