It was 0300 and the hospital was a stereotypical building from a B rated horror film, complete with absent night staff and flickering hallway lights. The young Corporal had been in several hospitals in the Middle East, all of the blended together after a while. The rows of beds with his wounded men all looked the same, the only thing that ever changed were the faces on the beds. There was only one face that stuck out against the sea of injured men, the face of his fiancé.
His back was stiff and his legs partially numb from sitting in an old metal chair for thirteen hours, but he wasn't planning on moving until she woke up. He was concerned about all of his men, but his heart was hollow seeing her in such a helpless state. If the young man responsible for her injuring wasn't currently lying in critical condition as well, he envisioned himself seeking revenge with his hands around the young soldiers' neck.
It was supposed to be a simple sweet of a civilian village. They had received no Intel or heard any chatter indicating there was any terrorist cell hiding out there. In combat his mind was always thinking about every one of his men's safety, but in the midst of the enemy fire and RPG's going off he lost sight of her. Though he wanted to get to her more than anything, he couldn't leave his other men. Body after broken body he carried them into a shelter. His men were dropping like flies and there wasn't much he could do to stop it.
He was brought out of his memories by a twitch of her hand that he was holding. Her eyes were now moving rapidly against her lids, her breathing becoming fast and shallow. His legs shook under his weight, but he stood steadily next to her, leaning over slightly to hold her face in both of his hands trying desperately to get her to wake up.
"Come on Fiona, please wake up." A strong man like him has never begged for anything in hi life. He felt as though if he could just see her eyes open that everything would be ok.
"Corporal," at first it was just a mutter, a word he could barely understand. "Corporal," This time it was a bit louder, he heard her clearly. "Damon!" She was almost screaming as her eyes shot open and her hands seized his wrists in a vice like grip.
"Fiona, it's ok, you're ok," he didn't let go of her face and kept wiping her tears away with his thumbs.
"I'm not ok Damon, I can't move my legs," she had a horrified look on her face as she strained to move her lower limbs. "Why can't I move my legs?" Fiona started crying uncontrollably now.
His mind faded back to the attack, after back up had arrived and gained control over the situation. Four helicopters were required to carry his injured men out of the area. He remembered PFC Johnston coming up to him, weapon still in hand, and a large gash above his left eye. His friend carried with him news he would never forget.
"It's Ebxen, Corporal; she's been wounded pretty badly."
"Where is she?"
"Two streets over, the medics are trying to stabilize her enough to fly." The rest of the PFC's words seemed distant as they made their way over to where the last helicopter was waiting.
The sight of his fiancé laying on the ground, covered in blood from the chest down, was burned into his eyes whenever he darned to close them. She had been stripped of her gear, leaving the shredded remains of her lower back exposed. In all his years of active duty he had never seen an injury so bad on a solider that was still alive.
"Fi, do you remember the ambush?"
"I remember leaving for the village, and then it all blurs together," she chocked down the tears as she spoke. "What happened Damon, where are we?"
"We're in Kuwait, Lance got shot in the leg and lost his M16, he went down before he could get to cover. Johnston said you jumped on top of him to protect him from a grenade. You were unconscious by the time the medic got to you. A piece of shrapnel was lodged into your spine, doctors have been arguing about attempting surgery to remove it. They said there is a 90% chance that surgery could permanently paralyze you from the waste down. They said it's just causing temporary paralysis now, the decision is up to you." The words were just as hard for him to say as they were for her to hear.
"Who did we lose?" He could tell she was trying to calm herself down as he recited the list of the fourteen men who perished no less than twenty four hours ago. "When can they do the surgery?"
"The two specialists are going to be here at 0600 to discuss your options with you. You had me worried Silly Girl." She tried to smile when he used the nickname that he had given to her when they were both still in training, but it only half worked.
"I didn't know Corporal Punishment was capable of feeling worried"
"Only about you."