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The weather has been unusually clear lately. As Annette was returning to the treatment center after lunch, the dazzling sunlight suddenly made her feel dizzy.
She endured the dizziness with her eyes closed and a frown.
Lately, her dizziness and migraines have been getting worse again. It's not just the intense workload, but the stress of the field hospital environment.
As she stood still, her churning mind seemed to calm down. Annette waited for her mind to feel completely at peace.
"...Hey."
“...”
“Hey.”
“...”
“Hey! Are you okay?”
Annette's eyes shot open. An unfamiliar soldier, a cigar wedged between his index and middle fingers, was leaning in towards her. Startled, Annette took a step back.
She could hear the voice with her ears, but it sounded a little far away, so she thought it was someone else calling.
"Yes, yes...?"
“And since you’re just standing there, I wonder if there’s a problem.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I just got a little dizzy from the sunlight... Thank you.”
Annette smiled awkwardly and tried to pass him by. Then the soldier called her again.
"Hey!"
"... Yes?"
Annette shrugged and turned around. The soldier raised both hands, as if he hadn't meant to startle her.
“Oh, I just have a question.”
Annette looked at him warily, as was her custom. The soldier scratched the back of his head and asked hesitantly.
“Excuse me... Do you remember Martin?”
“Martin?”
“Yes. He has a penetrating wound to his leg... You changed his bandage a few days ago.”
"...Ah!"
Annette, who had been listening to the soldier's explanation with a puzzled expression, nodded.
“I remember. But why...?”
He was a wounded soldier who had been extremely aggressive, demanding that he not be anesthetized. He was also the one who had inflicted the wound on her cheek.
“My name is Justin. I’m Martin’s colleague.”
A soldier came over to shake hands with a greeting. Annette, taken aback, shook his hand and introduced herself.
“This is Annette.”
“Don’t you remember when I caught Martin causing a fuss?”
Annette only allowed a vague smile to play on her lips. Honestly, she couldn't remember at all. Not only was she out of her mind at the time, but it was also a fleeting moment.
"Oh, it's not about me. I have something to tell you about Martin. Are you busy?"
“It’s okay. What’s the story?”
Justin put the cigar in his mouth, sucked on it enough to make his cheeks hollow, and then opened his mouth.
"That guy's a bit out of his mind from the shock. When he's not feeling well, he gets really violent. He's been in and out of the trenches."
As he spoke, a cloud of cigar smoke drifted out. As she had expected, Annette nodded quietly.
“Shell Shock.”
"That's what we call it among ourselves. Well, it's the same everywhere, but several of Martin's comrades were killed and wounded. And as you know, it's difficult to properly treat them in combat. We were even trapped in the trenches, so we couldn't even get supplies."
“...”
"Under normal circumstances, wounds that would have taken time to heal were... well, there was nothing we could do about them. The military doctor anesthetized and amputated the injured limb. Martin watched it all from the side."
It was a common story. In wartime, there was no time to carefully treat each soldier.
It had to be dealt with in the shortest possible time and in the most efficient way possible to save lives.
It was to the point where military doctors said that they could now amputate limbs with their eyes closed, and that it felt like they were butchers rather than doctors.
"I don't know exactly when Martin became like this. It just happened after the war ended. He has an extreme fear and aversion to anesthesia. He's afraid they'll amputate his leg."
"Yes."
Annette answered calmly. It was, in fact, something any nurse working on the front lines could have expected.
Justin stared at the burning end of his cigar for a moment, then smiled bitterly.
“Isn’t that a common story?”
“...I guess I can’t say no.”
"Everyone said you had no proper experience. They said that if you were treated by that nurse, things could go wrong."
Annette stared at Justin without showing any emotion. It wasn't that she felt nothing, but she was already used to the way they treated her.
Even her fellow nurses, not to mention the nursing officers, were asking her if she knew how to dress. How much more so for the soldiers.
“I don’t mean to attack you, but there have been many who say that being on the front lines was just a pretense to work for reputation.”
“...”
“When I heard that, I just assumed it was like that...”
“...”
“Now that I look at it, it doesn’t seem like that at all.”
The smoke dispersed in the wind. Justin dropped his nearly burned cigar to the floor and extinguished it with his foot.
“That guy’s remarks... I’ll apologize on his behalf.”
"No."
“I know it sounds like nonsense, but that’s not the way he is.”
Originally. Annette thought about the word for a moment.
Is there such a thing as someone who is originally like that? If that person is truly "originally" like that, is it their birth, their background, or their life's direction that should be held accountable?
Are people born that way, or do they grow that way?
“Is your face okay?”
Justin asked, patting his cheek. Annette nodded quietly. He smiled faintly.
“...That’s fortunate.”
'Medic! Medic! Nick's been shot!'
'Heiner! Cover me!'
Heiner nodded, hiding behind the gun emplacement. Shells exploded all around him, and bullets continued to rain down.
Adolf laid Nick down and injected him with morphine. Nick gasped for breath and stared at the bullet wound in his stomach.
Heiner turned to them and shouted, firing a shot across the cannon.
'It'll be open soon! We have to go now!'
'Damn, damn! I'm bleeding so much!'
Heiner ran over and examined Nick's condition. Nick's face was as white as flour dough. Heiner looked Nick in the eye and shouted.
"Nick, look at me! It's going to be okay. You have to wake up. It's going to be okay. Got it?"
Adolf stuffed gauze into the gunshot wound to stop the bleeding. Nick muttered through pale lips, almost sobbing.
'Lord, I don't want to die. I... I... I... .'
'You're not going to die! You'll be okay. Do you hear me?'
Heiner spoke as if to reassure him, but Nick didn't seem to hear him at all. Blood churned out of his mouth.
'I don't want to die... '
Bang! A bullet flew. Nick's body flinched and then sagged. A few seconds later, Adolf, who had been concentrating on stopping the bleeding in his abdomen, shouted.
'Yes, yes! The bleeding has stopped!'
Heiner clenched his teeth and grabbed Adolf's shoulder. Only then did Adolf look away from the bullet wound in his abdomen and raise his head.
Nick, who had been shot in the chest by another bullet, lay dead with his eyes open. Adolf threw the gauze with his bloody hands.
‘Holy shit! Give me time to heal, you bastards!'
'I'll cover you, so get out to the left!'
Adolf swore and gathered his gear. Heiner ripped off Nick's dog tag, stuffed it into his pocket, and reloaded his gun.
The sound of shells falling, as if they were about to burn the entire world, was deafening. Ta-ta-ta-ta! Heiner, who had fired at the enemy camp, turned around.
He ran, shot, and ran again. He hid, threw grenades, killed someone, and watched someone die.
At one point, the world slowed down. Heiner looked around, panting. The only sound he could hear was his own breathing.
It was a complete mess. Soldiers, hit by bullets, fell here and there. Some even wandered around, holding their severed arms, at a loss.
For a moment, he felt lost. He knew he shouldn't stop, but for some reason, his legs wouldn't move.
What on earth is at the end of this hell?
The moment he thought that, someone passed by him.
A soldier with a shattered knee limped toward the first aid station. He stumbled over a rock and fell, but eventually crawled to the entrance of the station.
A woman in a nurse's uniform, stained with dirt and blood, ran out. The nurse helped him up. Then she raised her head.
Her golden hair gleamed in the midday sun. The blue eyes, like the sea he had pursued his entire life, stared straight at him.
'Ah...'
All the noise of the world faded away. Thump, thump. The tension and excitement of the battlefield made his heart pound wildly. Heiner closed his eyelids for a long moment, then opened them.
She endured the dizziness with her eyes closed and a frown.
Lately, her dizziness and migraines have been getting worse again. It's not just the intense workload, but the stress of the field hospital environment.
As she stood still, her churning mind seemed to calm down. Annette waited for her mind to feel completely at peace.
"...Hey."
“...”
“Hey.”
“...”
“Hey! Are you okay?”
Annette's eyes shot open. An unfamiliar soldier, a cigar wedged between his index and middle fingers, was leaning in towards her. Startled, Annette took a step back.
She could hear the voice with her ears, but it sounded a little far away, so she thought it was someone else calling.
"Yes, yes...?"
“And since you’re just standing there, I wonder if there’s a problem.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I just got a little dizzy from the sunlight... Thank you.”
Annette smiled awkwardly and tried to pass him by. Then the soldier called her again.
"Hey!"
"... Yes?"
Annette shrugged and turned around. The soldier raised both hands, as if he hadn't meant to startle her.
“Oh, I just have a question.”
Annette looked at him warily, as was her custom. The soldier scratched the back of his head and asked hesitantly.
“Excuse me... Do you remember Martin?”
“Martin?”
“Yes. He has a penetrating wound to his leg... You changed his bandage a few days ago.”
"...Ah!"
Annette, who had been listening to the soldier's explanation with a puzzled expression, nodded.
“I remember. But why...?”
He was a wounded soldier who had been extremely aggressive, demanding that he not be anesthetized. He was also the one who had inflicted the wound on her cheek.
“My name is Justin. I’m Martin’s colleague.”
A soldier came over to shake hands with a greeting. Annette, taken aback, shook his hand and introduced herself.
“This is Annette.”
“Don’t you remember when I caught Martin causing a fuss?”
Annette only allowed a vague smile to play on her lips. Honestly, she couldn't remember at all. Not only was she out of her mind at the time, but it was also a fleeting moment.
"Oh, it's not about me. I have something to tell you about Martin. Are you busy?"
“It’s okay. What’s the story?”
Justin put the cigar in his mouth, sucked on it enough to make his cheeks hollow, and then opened his mouth.
"That guy's a bit out of his mind from the shock. When he's not feeling well, he gets really violent. He's been in and out of the trenches."
As he spoke, a cloud of cigar smoke drifted out. As she had expected, Annette nodded quietly.
“Shell Shock.”
"That's what we call it among ourselves. Well, it's the same everywhere, but several of Martin's comrades were killed and wounded. And as you know, it's difficult to properly treat them in combat. We were even trapped in the trenches, so we couldn't even get supplies."
“...”
"Under normal circumstances, wounds that would have taken time to heal were... well, there was nothing we could do about them. The military doctor anesthetized and amputated the injured limb. Martin watched it all from the side."
It was a common story. In wartime, there was no time to carefully treat each soldier.
It had to be dealt with in the shortest possible time and in the most efficient way possible to save lives.
It was to the point where military doctors said that they could now amputate limbs with their eyes closed, and that it felt like they were butchers rather than doctors.
"I don't know exactly when Martin became like this. It just happened after the war ended. He has an extreme fear and aversion to anesthesia. He's afraid they'll amputate his leg."
"Yes."
Annette answered calmly. It was, in fact, something any nurse working on the front lines could have expected.
Justin stared at the burning end of his cigar for a moment, then smiled bitterly.
“Isn’t that a common story?”
“...I guess I can’t say no.”
"Everyone said you had no proper experience. They said that if you were treated by that nurse, things could go wrong."
Annette stared at Justin without showing any emotion. It wasn't that she felt nothing, but she was already used to the way they treated her.
Even her fellow nurses, not to mention the nursing officers, were asking her if she knew how to dress. How much more so for the soldiers.
“I don’t mean to attack you, but there have been many who say that being on the front lines was just a pretense to work for reputation.”
“...”
“When I heard that, I just assumed it was like that...”
“...”
“Now that I look at it, it doesn’t seem like that at all.”
The smoke dispersed in the wind. Justin dropped his nearly burned cigar to the floor and extinguished it with his foot.
“That guy’s remarks... I’ll apologize on his behalf.”
"No."
“I know it sounds like nonsense, but that’s not the way he is.”
Originally. Annette thought about the word for a moment.
Is there such a thing as someone who is originally like that? If that person is truly "originally" like that, is it their birth, their background, or their life's direction that should be held accountable?
Are people born that way, or do they grow that way?
“Is your face okay?”
Justin asked, patting his cheek. Annette nodded quietly. He smiled faintly.
“...That’s fortunate.”
***
'Medic! Medic! Nick's been shot!'
'Heiner! Cover me!'
Heiner nodded, hiding behind the gun emplacement. Shells exploded all around him, and bullets continued to rain down.
Adolf laid Nick down and injected him with morphine. Nick gasped for breath and stared at the bullet wound in his stomach.
Heiner turned to them and shouted, firing a shot across the cannon.
'It'll be open soon! We have to go now!'
'Damn, damn! I'm bleeding so much!'
Heiner ran over and examined Nick's condition. Nick's face was as white as flour dough. Heiner looked Nick in the eye and shouted.
"Nick, look at me! It's going to be okay. You have to wake up. It's going to be okay. Got it?"
Adolf stuffed gauze into the gunshot wound to stop the bleeding. Nick muttered through pale lips, almost sobbing.
'Lord, I don't want to die. I... I... I... .'
'You're not going to die! You'll be okay. Do you hear me?'
Heiner spoke as if to reassure him, but Nick didn't seem to hear him at all. Blood churned out of his mouth.
'I don't want to die... '
Bang! A bullet flew. Nick's body flinched and then sagged. A few seconds later, Adolf, who had been concentrating on stopping the bleeding in his abdomen, shouted.
'Yes, yes! The bleeding has stopped!'
Heiner clenched his teeth and grabbed Adolf's shoulder. Only then did Adolf look away from the bullet wound in his abdomen and raise his head.
Nick, who had been shot in the chest by another bullet, lay dead with his eyes open. Adolf threw the gauze with his bloody hands.
‘Holy shit! Give me time to heal, you bastards!'
'I'll cover you, so get out to the left!'
Adolf swore and gathered his gear. Heiner ripped off Nick's dog tag, stuffed it into his pocket, and reloaded his gun.
The sound of shells falling, as if they were about to burn the entire world, was deafening. Ta-ta-ta-ta! Heiner, who had fired at the enemy camp, turned around.
He ran, shot, and ran again. He hid, threw grenades, killed someone, and watched someone die.
At one point, the world slowed down. Heiner looked around, panting. The only sound he could hear was his own breathing.
It was a complete mess. Soldiers, hit by bullets, fell here and there. Some even wandered around, holding their severed arms, at a loss.
For a moment, he felt lost. He knew he shouldn't stop, but for some reason, his legs wouldn't move.
What on earth is at the end of this hell?
The moment he thought that, someone passed by him.
A soldier with a shattered knee limped toward the first aid station. He stumbled over a rock and fell, but eventually crawled to the entrance of the station.
A woman in a nurse's uniform, stained with dirt and blood, ran out. The nurse helped him up. Then she raised her head.
Her golden hair gleamed in the midday sun. The blue eyes, like the sea he had pursued his entire life, stared straight at him.
'Ah...'
All the noise of the world faded away. Thump, thump. The tension and excitement of the battlefield made his heart pound wildly. Heiner closed his eyelids for a long moment, then opened them.
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