Happy Sunday everybody!
Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.
Chapter 2
As the beat of the helicopter rotors faded, Captain James desperately tried to bury his feelings and focus on the job in hand. Despite the fact that he didn't know if the woman he loved was alive or dead he had responsibilities to his unit and to the Army to carry on doing his job. He totally blamed himself for the situation they were in. He supposed Smurf was slightly responsible as well and wondered about the reason behind his breakdown? Molly had been quite clear, from what he gathered, that she wasn't interested in Smurf romantically. But the fact remained that if he himself had told Molly about Rebecca and Sam, then she would still have been talking to him when they got here and there would have been no need to make up, and for Smurf to see them making up. Then Smurf would not have flipped and he would have been in a position to help and support Molly with Badrai. Instead he had lost his tactical awareness and had left her unsupported and now she may be dead because of his mistakes.
He took a deep breath. He had to get a grip. He had responsibilities. He took a look around. Two Section and Qaseem were still looking towards the horizon where the Chinook had passed out of sight. The ANA soldiers were heading back to their work with some breaking off to deal with the passengers in the truck. He supposed they would be shipped off to be interrogated to find out how much they knew. Towards the end of the bridge he could see a huge patch of blood surrounded by Molly's discarded medi-Bergen, gun and body armour and, next to it, an open medi-Bergen discarded by the MERT team. He supposed the section would have to take all of that equipment with them. There was no-one else around. The farmer with the dead goat had run off during the fight and taken his goat with him. He felt sorry for the man; the goat might be his only livelihood.
He looked down at himself. He was still wearing the blue surgical gloves covered with Molly's blood, and it was also coating the top of his thighs and his abdomen where he had held her against himself. He started taking off the gloves, desperate to rid himself of them and the reminder of Molly's injury. He knew he must try and reassure the men and arrange transport back to Bastion. He needed to get back to Bastion as soon as possible to be with Molly but there were other things that needed doing too. Finally a bit more centred, he took a deep breath and started talking.
"OK lads, I know it's tough but we've still got a job to do here." He said, attracting their attention back to him. "Kinders, can you and Qaseem speak to the ANA and make sure they whistle up transport to take the civilians in for interrogation and get the truck checked for explosives? Dangles, contact HQ and ask them to send a chopper to pick us up. Brains, please pick up the discarded equipment and put it to the side ready to take with us. Fingers, Baz, Nude-Nut and Mansfield, you're on lookout duty. Everyone check your weapons and equipment and get ready to leave." With that the section split up to their assigned tasks and Captain James went back to his self-recrimination.
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
The helicopter carrying Two Section flared, ready for its landing at Camp Bastion. Charles James looked around the faces of his section with concern. The boys had been on autopilot since the Chinook had left carrying Molly. They had done everything he told them to do but it was a good thing nothing else had happened since he could tell their minds weren't in it. Even Kinders was clearly having trouble focusing. He could understand that, it was all he could do not to jump off the chopper and run to the medical centre himself. But he had responsibilities to the men. He needed to get them back to quarters, get the after action work started, and also maybe whistle up a psychiatrist or two to counsel the boys. Between Smurf's breakdown and Molly being shot down in front of them he didn't think they'd be up to much for some time to come. He knew how they felt.
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
It was two hours later before he was able to get to the hospital. He had skipped out of the after-action interview with Major Beck, pleading the necessity to find out the state of his injured troops. The Major had understood; all officers who served on the front lines understood how painful it was to lose a soldier under their command and the Major already knew of (and shared) his high regard for Molly, although not quite in the same way.
He had not even had time to shower but he didn't care because he had to know how Molly was. Entering the hospital building his feet took him towards the emergency area, desperately looking for a familiar face. Coming around the corner he finally saw someone he knew, Jackie Dawlish. Seeing Jackie did not fill him with confidence. She was leaning against the wall outside the entrance to the operating theatre wearing her green plastic surgical apron, scrubbing her eyes with her hands.
"Jackie!" he called, "any news on Molly? I came as soon as I could. I needed to get the section dealt with and…" conscious that he was gabbling, he stopped. She had turned to look at him and he noticed her red-rimmed eyes. A spasm of fear ripped through him, "Jackie?" he questioned more quietly.
"She's only just holding on, sir" came the tired reply, "she just won't give up. They had to re-start her heart three times in the helicopter and once more since she's been here. They've used 12 units of blood…" she tailed off. He knew that the average human body contains 12 units of blood, Molly had lost her entire blood supply and it was all because he didn't think to look for an exit wound. What a failure he was.
Seeing his look of self-hatred, Jackie tried to reassure him, "Your treatment was really important, sir. If you hadn't plugged the wounds in her front, shoulder and leg, she definitely would be dead now. She's still fighting as well. They've been operating for four hours. Unfortunately there was some internal bleeding and that's going to complicate matters. They will try to stabilise her and then send her for a CT scan so that they can find out what else needs to be done. Normally, they would do the CT scan first, but she was so critical when they brought her in that they had to take her straight to theatre. You should go and rest sir. It's unlikely there will be any news for a few hours."
He knew he couldn't but he had to ask anyway, "Can I see her?"
Jackie answered gently, "She's still in theatre sir. Maybe when she gets out there may be a possibility, but we'll have to wait and see. Don't worry sir, I'll keep you updated on how she is. If there's any change I'll call you or send someone to get you."
He replied, "Thanks Jackie" and then thinking that she didn't look too great either, he asked "Have you had a rest at all?" to which she replied, "No sir, I just want to stay until she gets out of theatre. They sent me out because of my personal relationship with Molly." He could understand that, and he knew the futility of trying to insist she get some rest. It wasn't an order he would obey if he didn't have responsibilities to the rest of the section. He contented himself with telling her, "Thanks for being such a good friend to her Jackie. I'll be with Major Beck of the Under Fives if you need to get hold of me."
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
Major Roger Beck looked across the table at Captain James with concern. One of his best officers seemed to be unravelling right before his eyes. The Captain had reported to his quarters-cum-office 15 minutes ago for his delayed after-action debriefing. At least he had taken the time to shower and clean himself up, but the man sat in front of him was a far cry from the normally collected officer who was one of his most able subordinates. This officer looked totally strung out, with wide eyes and palsied hands, and seemed unable to concentrate. So far their after-action debriefing had been one of the most difficult he had ever conducted.
Major Beck sympathised; it was always difficult to lose a soldier, particularly as outstanding a soldier as Private Dawes was shaping up to be, and he knew that the Captain had developed a soft spot for the spunky Private once he got to know her, even though their relationship had been pretty rocky at the start. It was honestly difficult not to have a soft spot for Private Dawes, particularly now that the rough edges were starting to wear off. She was turning into an exceptional soldier. The Major had been keeping a close eye on her ever since Captain James had flagged her as a potential candidate for a commission in her annual fitness report, and he had been nothing but impressed.
Since then she had developed the intelligence which led to them successfully ambushing and defeating a Taliban cell in the mountains close to their FOB, and had identified Badrai as a Taliban operative, alerting the Americans to his presence in their operating area and kicking off a major counter-intelligence operation. She had participated in both missions to capture him, helping to put a bomb-making factory out of action on the first, but coming back with a split lip, and being critically injured on the second. But in becoming critically injured, she'd finally got their man. He knew that Major Morley of US Military Intelligence had been really impressed with Dawes prior to this mission and he had made sure that Major Beck knew about it. It was terrible to think of all that potential being snuffed out and his prayers, alongside everyone else who knew or had worked with her, were that she would pull through this. But he needed to get to the bottom of what happened, so he fixed his eyes on the Captain again and silently willed Charles to hold it together for a bit longer.
"I don't understand Captain, why didn't the ANA stop the truck at the first checkpoint?" he continued, pulling Charles back to the debriefing.
Captain James re-focused on him with an effort and he could see the anguish and bitter self-recrimination in his eyes, "I don't know sir. Major Morley had posited that the Taliban had sympathisers in the ANA at the checkpoints to let some of their trucks through and that certainly seems likely in this case. Our ASF contact was practically screaming at them to stop the truck, but they still let it through to the second gate where luckily they stopped it.
"But the problem was that I was counting on us deploying to the main checkpoint, then I could have had my section in place to give mutual support at close range and with good cover. Once the truck went across the bridge I had to adapt my plan, and that's when I made my first mistake."
"Go on Captain, what did you do?"
"Well I detailed Privates Smith and Dawes to continue with me, as well as the interpreter and the ASF contact and told the rest of the Section to take defensive positions and establish a fire base. But about half way over, I became more worried about a farmer with a goat who seemed to be hovering in the vicinity and detailed Private Smith to watch him. In retrospect I should have kept Private Smith with me, or pulled one of the others from the larger group."
"I don't see that that was a mistake Charles. At that point you had no idea that Private Smith was going to break down. Don't beat yourself up about it – I would have done the same thing. Now carry on."
"So we proceeded across the bridge and I tasked Dawes to examine the back of the truck and the ANA to check the driver while I held a position to give support if needed. She had a quick look and concluded that something wasn't right and just as I went to answer her, a gunshot rang out. We both took cover and it transpired that Private Smith had shot the farmer's goat. He had flipped. He was shouting at the farmer to "go for your weapon". I asked Smith whether the farmer even had a gun and then I made my second bad decision.
"There's no excuse sir. I lost tactical awareness. I left Dawes to go to Private Smith. There was chaos. I told everyone to hold their fire and tried to find out what had happened. I should have called up support for Dawes at that moment but I didn't and I will have to live with that decision for the rest of my life…" as Charles concluded, Major Beck could see that there were tears in his eyes. He sought to reassure his subordinate, "Anyone can make mistakes in action Charles. I'm sure you have before, and I certainly have. It's how we deal with making mistakes that separates the wheat from the chaff. So, you left Private Dawes and went to figure out what was going on with Smith – what was going on by the way?" He was surprised when Charles wouldn't meet his eyes. "Captain?" he prompted, more gently.
Charles emitted a deep sigh, clearly fighting for composure, then he looked up and met Major Beck's eyes. His next words utterly shocked the Major. "Sir, I have a confession to make. Private Dawes and I have feelings for one another."
"What?" choked the Major, absolutely stunned. Relationships between soldiers, while strictly forbidden, were not unknown in Afghanistan, but relationships between commissioned officers and other ranks were even more frowned upon. The idea of Captain James and Private Dawes together was unbelievable.
But actually, he reflected, was it so unbelievable? They were both excellent soldiers, both intelligent, honest and fine people. The only thing that was different about them was their social background and if anything was going to break down social barriers it was being on top of each other in a small FOB, risking your life to fight Taliban for months at a time. While he sought to pull his attention back to the debriefing, Charles continued, "We've been aware of it for several weeks, sir, but resolved not to do anything about our feelings until we returned to the UK. I told Dawes that I have a duty of care, not just to her but the whole platoon, and I couldn't compromise that. But in the compound we did have a heart to heart and I guess Smurf – I mean Private Smith – may have overheard us then, even though we did speak in private, sir.
"Sir, I understand that what I did was wrong, and I am fully prepared to face court martial or resign my commission if you prefer."
Major Beck wasn't having any of that, "I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself Charles. The Army doesn't court martial people for having feelings! Would we rather you discussed them at a different time and place? Yes, certainly, but again I can't see that you're massively out of line in this instance. If Private Smith overheard and over-reacted then that is probably his issue, not yours. I assume from your statements that while you were able to put your personal feelings aside and get on with your work, Private Smith was unable to do so?"
"Yes sir. When I got to him he was in tears and he screamed at me hysterically. I told him repeatedly to put his gun down. While he spoke I became distracted and lost my situational awareness.
"Sir, while I am very angry with Private Smith, this sort of behaviour is well outside what is normal for him and I would like to ask for a full evaluation. I understand that he's had a nervous breakdown but I've thought about his behaviour a lot and I'm convinced that there must be something else wrong with him. I'd like to ask that a full medical evaluation be carried out – I think there's something seriously wrong sir"
The Major made a handwritten note in his report, "I will action that as soon as we're done here Captain. And can I say that it reflects well on you that, despite everything that's happened, you're still looking out for him. Now, I know this is hard, but carry on if you please…"
"Well, he's still one of my men," Captain James noted with a sad half smile, before continuing his story, "Private Dawes obviously decided to start looking through the passengers, and the next thing I was aware of was her calling "Boss! Boss! It's Badrai!" I swung around and saw her step back and then raise her gun. Just before she opened fire she adjusted her aim down. It cost her precious seconds. When I spoke to her after she had been injured she confirmed that she adjusted her aim because the Americans wanted him alive."
"Wait – you're telling me that Private Dawes intentionally took time to change her aim to make sure Badrai wasn't killed?" Major Beck thought he had heard wrong. His opinion of Dawes was already sky high, but now it had gone higher.
"Yes sir," replied Charles, "But I don't know why she didn't just take cover though – she could have protected herself."
The Major looked at Captain James pityingly, "Well I think that's bloody obvious if you think about it Charles, particularly knowing Private Dawes as both of us do!" Captain James looked at him questioningly, "Well from the way you've described the situation, if Private Dawes had dived to the side then you and Private Smith would have been directly in the line of fire, and knowing Private Dawes, for her that would have been an unacceptable situation." The Major paused, considering the Private who was still fighting for her life in hospital, and resolving to do all he could to get her another medal for her courage and selflessness. There weren't too many people with a Military Cross and Bar, certainly not earned on the same tour, but if one person deserved it then it was Molly Dawes. Maybe he would see if he could get her a CGC.
Seeing that Captain James was close to tears at the realisation that the woman he "had feelings for" had decided to risk her life to save his, he sought to get back to the business in hand. "Carry on then Captain, finish the story."
Captain James visibly fought to regain his composure and eventually continued, "Well, they opened fire at about the same time. Badrai must have had his gun under his seat because he pulled it up and opened fire on full auto, but his gun was always rising. Dawes was hit by at least four bullets, starting in her thigh and then tracing up her abdomen and then her shoulder, as the gun rose. I think the rest of the shots went over her shoulder. She hit him with a focused three round burst in his right abdomen and shoulder. As she fell I was already racing towards her and I called for an urgent medevac. On Private Dawes' urging I assigned troops to treat Badrai and then she coached me through how to help her until the MERT arrived. After they had left I attended to clearing up at the scene, getting back and then made sure the men were taken care of back here, sir."
Knowing Charles needed some reassurance the Major tried to keep his voice upbeat, "OK Charles, leave it with me. Try not to beat yourself up about this. I don't have an issue with most of your decisions. As you said you did lose tactical awareness for a few minutes and that did put Private Dawes in a difficult position. But as I also said, how we react and deal with and learn from our mistakes is the most important thing. I don't have any problems with your relationship with Private Dawes. We can't stop people from having feelings and from what I can gather you have both acted professionally throughout. I will speak to the medical team and pass on your concerns about Private Smith.
"Just so you're aware, I got an update on Dawes before we came in here and the medical team have finished operating for now. She is still critical and they will monitor her for several hours before deciding if she's stable enough to Medevac back to the UK. Given the state of Two Section, and what you've told me today, I will endeavour to get your Platoon, and you, back to the UK within the next week. It's only a week or two earlier than you would have been going back anyway. Once you're there I will approve a leave request if you want to spend time with Private Dawes, but obviously you'll be needed for ceremonial functions like the medal parade etcetera."
Charles looked at him in shock, stunned not to be blamed (even though he was still blaming himself) and surprised by the Major's understanding, "Thank you sir. With your permission, I'll go and see to the men?"
"Agreed Captain. Dismissed."
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
The message from Jackie was waiting when Charles got back to his quarters after speaking to his NCOs, followed by Two Section. He had not enjoyed the meeting with Two Section one bit.
The note basically said that if he came down at about 20.00 she should be able to get him in to see Molly. Charles looked at his watch; that was in an hour. He didn't feel much like eating but supposed he should try and keep his strength up, so he resolved to grab a sandwich and then head over to the hospital, even if it meant he had to wait there for a while.
Having reported to the reception desk and been told to wait, he took a seat in one of the chairs. He just stared at the wall, losing track of time and his situation completely. As he sat there he reflected on a difficult visit to Two Section's quarters. When he had entered the tent with Kinders it had been totally silent, which was eerie considering that Kinders had confirmed that all of the remainder of the section was present. Instead of getting up to any of the things that they would normally be doing like playing cards, insulting each other or playing other games, the squad were mostly lying on their bunks or talking quietly and still looked shell-shocked. He resolved at that moment to get the other sections involved with them to try and lift the malaise. He had tried to be as re-assuring as possible as he gave them an update on Molly and Smurf, informing them that Molly was out of theatre but that he didn't have any more news. Then the questions had started. But the problem was, he either didn't have any answers, or couldn't answer the questions about what happened and why. Eventually, in a desperate attempt to get away and to start bringing his men back, he had told the Section to be ready for PT at 07.00 tomorrow and taken his leave.
As he tried to think up ways to improve morale he was shocked when someone spoke next to him, as if out of nowhere, "I was sorry to hear about Private Dawes, Captain. She's an outstanding soldier." He jumped, and made to get to his feet, realising that the American accent could only come from one person.
"Oh, at ease Captain, as you were." Major Morley took the seat next to him, "I've just talked to Major Beck and he told me that Dawes made a conscious decision not to kill Badrai, is that correct?"
He gave a small half smile and replied to the Major, "Yes sir, she told me that she took the time to adjust her aim down and I think that's what resulted in her being so seriously injured."
"Well, I know it doesn't help at the moment Captain, but what she did will end up saving lots of lives. Badrai's on a pretty heavy cocktail of painkilling drugs and he's singing like a bird. We've got an intelligence officer next to his bedside and we've already pulled enough information to crack two large cells. Private Dawes' presence of mind and preparedness to risk herself for her comrades and the mission could end up making a material impact. In light of what we've learnt and its likelihood of saving American as well as other lives, and what you've told me, I will be putting Private Dawes in for an award, probably the Silver Star."
He smiled sadly at the image of Molly being presented with the Silver Star. She would hate being singled out and would insist that she was only doing her job. He had already expected to have a conversation like that with her given he had nominated her for an award for saving Smurf's life and a Military Cross had recently been approved. He realised that the Major was looking at him concernedly, "Sorry sir, just wool gathering I'm afraid. It will be a great honour and I hope that she will be able to receive it in person."
"As do we all, Captain," replied the Major, getting up to leave, "Please keep me abreast of what is going on Captain. Our hopes and prayers are with Private Dawes and her family." With that the Major strode away and Charles considered that perhaps the Major wasn't such a cold fish after all.
He sat for another ten minutes, slowly drifting off to sleep, before another familiar voice jerked him awake. "Well Captain James, I get to see you twice in one day. Lucky me." He turned and saw the Major from the MERT, who he still knew only as Nicky. This time she was dressed in utilities covered by a plastic surgical apron. He jerked upright and faced her, "Major- I'm sorry, I don't know your surname, only your first name?"
She cracked a smile, "It's Watts, Captain. Nicola Watts."
He replied, "Major Watts, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for Molly – I mean Private Dawes. I understand your team saved her life in the helicopter on a number of occasions."
"We were just doing our jobs Captain," How did he know she was going to say that? Were all medical people alike? That was exactly what Molly would have said! "Nevertheless Major, I'd like to thank you" he stated gratefully.
She smiled at him tiredly, "Well, you're welcome Captain, but you did your bit too. Stomach wounds are notoriously nasty and can bleed out within 15 minutes. By stopping the bleeding you certainly saved her life. And hers isn't the only life you've saved today."
To say that he was flabbergasted would be a massive understatement, "W-What?" he gasped.
She answered, "Private Smith. We've just completed a full medical work-up on him, including an MRI. We found a small lesion on his brain. It had been unnoticed previously and probably wouldn't have been picked up unless you had highlighted his instability. We're going to fly him back to the UK and they'll operate on him there. We hope he should make a full recovery but it will take time; brain surgery is notoriously complex. If it hadn't been noticed he could, and probably would, have died from it." He stared at her, open mouthed, as she continued, "I know it's scant consolation when a loved one is so critically injured…Oh, don't bother trying to deny it Captain," she added kindly as he tried to speak, "I heard yours and Private Dawes' conversation just before she arrested. It's OK, I'll keep your secret – doctor/patient confidentiality and all that."
He replied, "Thank you Major, but it's not a secret anymore. I told Major Beck since it was germane to the situation with Private Smith. Nothing's actually happened. We planned to wait out until we got back to the UK."
"So you've acted professionally Captain. No-one could ask for any more. No-one can blame you for having feelings and no-one could blame you for what you said in those horrible circumstances." She finished, sadly, trying to reassure him.
"In my head I understand that Major, but I still feel like an epic fail." He remembered Molly using those exact same words, "It's my fault she's in this position."
"I'm sure it's not Captain, and over time you will come to understand that.
"For now, however, I've come to take you to Private Dawes." It was sweet, she thought, his head shot up and hope replaced desperation and exhaustion in his eyes. "I'll ask you to wear scrubs Captain. My colleagues had to crack the abdominal cavity and there is a risk of infection if we have to open her back up. We're keeping her unconscious and immobilised; we always do that at the beginning with abdominal wounds.
"You should be aware that there's a fair amount of damage, Captain and, if she makes it, her recovery will be a long one. There are a lot of risks between now and then. Any infection to the peritoneal membrane (which covers the abdominal cavity) would be extremely serious, and it will be some time before we can eliminate that. Her stomach wounds have bled a lot and there's a fair amount of damage and the bullet ricocheted around before it exited. We've had to put in a temporary colostomy bag to allow her body to function. Added to that, the exit wound on her back was pretty messy. The wound in her shoulder is also not that great and chipped the bone. We hope we got all the fragments but there is the possibility that they will have to operate again."
She watched as he visibly wilted in front of her as she described Dawes' injuries, "The good news is that the thigh wound is just a flesh wound. Don't be disheartened Captain. She is getting the best trauma treatment in the world. Did you know that this hospital has a 98% survival rate? People are surviving injuries in this war who never would have survived in previous wars. If there's a way for her to survive, then she will. And she's a tough little blighter as well. She's not giving up Captain, and you shouldn't either. She'll need your support over the next few months." As she finished her pep talk, she saw the hope return to Captain James' eyes. His back straightened involuntarily.
"I'll be there for her Major, for as long as it takes."
"Of course you will Captain. Now I've got the warnings out of the way I'll take you to see her."
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
Charles James felt out of his comfort zone, clad only in surgical scrubs with a surgical hat, but it was worth it to see Molly. As Major Watts showed him into the surgical ward he saw that there were only three patients currently. Jackie Dawlish was sitting next to a bed in the corner, some distance from the other beds, which held a green-shrouded figure. A life support machine was beeping away next to the bed. He could just about recognise Molly, even though her beautiful hair was wrapped up in a surgical hat. Her face looked much better than the last time he'd seen her, even disfigured by the breathing tube sticking out of her mouth, which was linked to a ventilator. It was a much more healthy colour and it was not covered in blood. Her body was covered by a green surgical sheet from which emerged loads of tubes and lines, from cardiac monitors to thicker tubes, which he assumed were some type of catheters. An overwhelming feeling of relief hit him, "She looks better," he stated quietly.
Beside him Major Watts smiled to herself. Most people would be horrifically upset by seeing a loved one in this state, but she supposed he was right; compared to when he last saw her she did look a Hell of a lot better. The Major asked Jackie Dawlish, who had looked up at his words, "Any change?"
"No Major" she replied.
"OK, Jackie. I think Captain James would like a little time alone with Private Dawes so why don't you go and get a shower and some rest." She made it an order, however quietly she said it, and Jackie got up stiffly, smiled at her and Captain James and walked out of the room. Turning to the Captain she told him, "You can have 10 minutes Captain. I'll be sending a nurse in after that and you'll have to go. If there's any change while you're here press the emergency button next to her bed. There will be someone with her constantly, so be assured that we'll take good care of her, and I'll keep you up to date with her condition. If she continues to stabilise then we'll order up CCAST and get her medevacced to the UK as soon as possible. They'll be able to give her much better care and support than we can give her here." Seeing that the Captain was struggling to take it all in, she led him over to the seat that Jackie had been using and told him kindly, "You can hold her hand, but don't touch her anywhere else please. You can talk to her if you want; some people find it helps them, but she's not conscious and won't hear you. Remember, 10 minutes Captain." With that she turned away and left him to it.
He sat in the chair, as instructed, and gently gathered her hand in both of his, being careful not to joggle the pulse monitor which was on her finger. He was pleasantly surprised that her hand felt warm again, much better than it had the last time he'd held it. He sat there for a minute, just treasuring the feeling of holding her hand in his. It was a small hand, very feminine, despite her short fingernails. It felt very smooth as well, despite the manual labour she did for her job. He wondered abstractedly how she managed to keep her skin so smooth. He had never noticed her fingers before but they were quite beautiful, long and finely shaped. It was surprising how natural her hand felt in his and he found himself gently massaging the back of her hand with his thumb.
He felt a little silly speaking to her, but he gave it a try anyway. "I'm here Molly. The doctors say there's a good chance you're going to be OK. They're going to send you back to the UK and I'll come and visit you as soon as I can." Suddenly he knew what he wanted to say, and the words just tumbled out of his mouth, "I just wanted to say thank you. I understand now that you risked your life to save mine and Smurf's. I'll never forgive myself for leaving you unsupported, putting you into that position. Please pull through. I've missed being with you so much over the last few weeks since we got back to Bastion. I didn't understand how important you've become to me and how much I relied on talking to and seeing you, and just having you near me, until you were gone. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about Rebecca and Sam. Maybe we could have avoided all of this if I had. I didn't really say it as often as I should, but I love you Molly. Please come back to me." Having bared his soul, he simply sat there, savouring the feel of her soft skin on his until the nurse arrived and turfed him out. He left without complaint, having said all he needed to say for now. He would have more to say when she could answer back and he desperately hoped he would have the opportunity to have that conversation with her.
A/N 1 Lots of sources for this chapter, with the exceptional (though not for the squeamish) BBC series Frontline Medicine definitely due a mention. Thanks also to paramedic Marc for his time and patience in discussions over possible injuries, impacts and treatments. All mistakes are my own. The survival rate at the Camp Bastion hospital was 98% - the best in the world!
A/N 2 If you are squeamish you may want to skip this note! Some of the major developments pioneered at the Camp Bastion hospital and throughout the war have been changes in the way that doctors handle transfusions. There are two major improvements: (1) The intra-osseous needle whereby if they can't find a vein to put a drip into they can use this bit of kit to drill into the bone, allowing blood to be transported much more rapidly into the bloodstream; and (2) A different blood transfusion mixture. During Vietnam, saline was the go to for blood transfusions but more recently red blood cells were more common, but since 2007 the British military has started to use larger amounts of blood plasma (1 unit of plasma to 1 unit of red blood cells) which has led to a huge increase in battlefield survival figures. The NHS have trialled and instituted these developments in trauma treatments.
A/N 3 Military Cross and Bar means two awards of the MC. Only 172 people have ever been awarded the MC twice (according to Wikipedia) and I can only track down one double award in Afghanistan, for Corporal John Watson, Royal Marines. CGC stands for Conspicuous Gallantry Cross, a medal which ranks second only to the Victoria Cross in terms of gallantry in combat. It has been awarded only 58 times since it was instituted in 1993 (source: Dix Noonan Webb).
A/N 4 The Silver Star is the US's third highest military decoration for valour, awarded for gallantry in action against an enemy of the US.
A/N 5 CCAST stands for Critical Care Air Support Team, part of the RAF's Aeromedical Evacuation Coordination Cell (AECC). Once the order is received for a critically ill patient to be transferred to the UK a CCAST can deploy in about an hour although it takes 10 hours for the team to fly to Afghanistan from RAF Lyneham. The 5-member team would typically consist of a consultant anaesthetist, two critical care nurses, a medic and an equipment technician. Their job is to maintain the stability of the patients on the way home, but not to operate on them. The CCAST would deliver the patient to an airport in Birmingham for urgent transfer to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, which handles all medical treatment for Afghan casualties.
A/N 6 Prolonging the agony for all those Molly fans out there – sorry! And a pretty major development for Smurf…please R&R!