Copyright Oggbashan July 2021
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the
author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
Some of the dialogue would be in French or German but retold in English.
I was following a team of Engineers clearing the streets of Caen when the Allies had taken it a few weeks after D-Day 1944. The wreckage of buildings were everywhere but I was hoping the main hospital had survived. I am Major Ian Menzies, surgeon commander of a team of medics and corpsmen who had been operating a field hospital outside Caen before we were, I assume, accidently bombed by some German bombers. We hadn't lost any men, but half of our ambulances had been destroyed. I hoped we could acquire some more vehicles but the main Caen hospital, if it was still standing, would be a better place to treat the wounded, many of whom would be French civilians.
It took two hours to reach the hospital. I was pleased to see, apart from a few broken windows, that it seemed unscathed. But once inside it was a scene of chaos. There was no power to the hospital and the staff were working by feeble hurricane lamps, even the surgeons trying to operate. In one of our surviving trucks we had some Tilley Lamps which would give much better illumination. We fetched them and set them up in the two operating theatres. I went to the REME unit which had been following us and pleaded for a truck mounted generator. Their task was to try to restore electricity for Caen and the mains water supply. They didn't have a spare generator but the Brigadier in charge sent a Lieutenant to plead with an American unit still approaching Caen. I also mentioned our lack of ambulances and shortage of medical supplies, particularly penicillin.
Half an hour later an American Army truck, prominently marked with a Red Ball, halted outside the hospital.
The Lieutenant got out followed by a large black man in GI uniform. The American private saluted me.
The lieutenant said: "This private is on loan from your American allies for as long as you need him, Major."
"Thank you very much, Lieutenant. I'm sure he will be a great asset."
The lieutenant saluted and walked away.
"Private Sam Owens, reporting on loan from your Allies, Sir. I have medical supplies on board, and a generator truck should be here within a quarter of an hour, Sir."
"Thank you very much, Sam," I said. "But you have been wounded."
I could see blood on his right sleeve and burn marks on his face.
"Those pesky Germans blew my other truck off the road, Sir. I have been told not to drive too far until I have recovered so I can do collections and deliveries in and around Caen, but not up to the front line yet, Sir."
"Have your wounds been treated, Private?"
"Only by me, Sir."
"Then come in and we'll see what we can do."
"Yes, Sir."
One of the medics carefully removed Sam's jacket and shirt to reveal awkwardly tied bandages. The wounds were not serious but they were dressed properly and his facial burns were treated with burns ointment. In the meantime my men had unloaded Sam's truck and were marvelling at the range and quantity of medical supplies they had been given. The medical supplies filled an unused office near the hospital's entrance. Almost as soon as they had finished an American generator truck appeared. With an hour my REME friends had connected it up and the whole hospital had power. Only then did I meet the French hospital director who had been performing surgery by paraffin lights.
"We are at 95% capacity," He said. "We will expect more civilians when the roads are clear. But we are short of everything, including staff. The Germans took away all our male staff, our supplies and our ambulances."
"Supplies?" I said. "Look in here."
I showed him the cluttered office. He was nearly in tears at the sight of so much.
"How many patients are there at present?" I asked.
"We have twenty Americans, fifteen British, five Canadians, forty Germans and sixty civilians."
"Are any fit enough to evacuate?"
"About a third of the civilians could be discharged to be outpatients. Most of the military could be moved except one or two. But we have no transport to take them away."
"And I have only three ambulances and one open truck left. And now Sam's truck. It would take nearly a whole day to take them all to Arromanches but we could."
"That would be wonderful. I expect dozens, if not hundreds, of civilians. The bombing killed or wounded so many."
"OK. Can you make sure that those that could be moved are ready tomorrow?"
"Will do. Can you come around with me and see the patients?"
Of course. I'll bring some of my staff as well. Most of them have only a bare competence in French and only a few words in German. They'll have to learn, fast."
As we went around my staff detached themselves by certain patients to treat them with the supplies we now had. They needed the French nurses with the civilians to translate and to explain what was wrong with each patient. The French nurses were impressed with the competence of my corpsmen.
The Director stopped outside a small room.
"We don't normally put the men and women together but these two are interesting. Beware. The German is very angry and annoyed with himself."
"Why?"
"He was an officer in the Hitler Youth Brigade. He was severely wounded but wanted to set up as a sniper to kill more Allies. He entered a wrecked building and climbed to the top but the roof had collapsed and a fire had just started. He found a Frenchwoman there trapped by a heavy beam across her legs. Despite his wounds he tried to get the beam off her, using his rifle as a lever. He had just succeeded in freeing her and was treating her leg wounds when some GIs found and captured him.
