Read Online Angel of Mercy by Jackie McCallister - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jackie McCallister
Ads: Link
vitals of her young nurse. “Pulse 121, BP 132/89. She’s going to be okay. The heat just got to her.” Lieutenant McKay checked Wendy for contact injury from her fall. Finding none, she put the young lady’s head in her own lap and stroked the back of the fallen nurse’s neck. Seconds later, Private Shafer opened her eyes. What she said then was going to keep her friends ribbing her until she went back home.
“Mommy?” she said to Lieutenant McKay.
The head nurse looked into Wendy’s eyes, checking for signs of a concussion. What she saw was a young lady, not concussed, but desperately in need of rest. “No, Corporal Shafer. Not Mommy.” Two other people came to Wendy Shafer’s side and helped her up and toward her CHU. Wendy was given something that was a true luxury, and only possible because the flow of casualties slowed. She was given a full day off.
Meanwhile, Chelsea stepped into the spot recently vacated by Wendy Shafer. Once she knew that her friend wasn’t seriously injured Chelsea didn’t notice what else happened with her. The patient in front of her had taken severe shrapnel from his groin down past his knees on the left side, and slightly less of the same on his right side. He hadn’t been a part of the group that had taken fire. His were the injuries of the roadside bomb.
The bleeding had been somewhat contained as this is the first thing that must be done in the case of shrapnel injury. Captain McGuire was carefully removing the larger metal pieces and closing the wounds as he went. Chelsea glanced to the side and saw that Captain McGuire had probably removed ten pounds of metal fragments from the young man already. He was lucky to be alive.
Chelsea looked toward the young man’s face and was going to tell the still partially conscious soldier exactly that. When Chelsea saw whom the patient was she almost went the route so recently traveled by Corporal Wendy Shafer and hit the floor herself. It was Tim Giacomo.
Chelsea had been trained to act quickly during a time of crisis. That’s why she tore her eyes away from the face of the patient and began dealing with the blood that was still draining from the young soldier’s wounds. As she deftly and expertly went about her task, Chelsea’s mind pored over the fact that her friend had been injured.
The last time Chelsea had seen Corporal Giacomo was…when? As Chelsea’s hands moved over the patient’s body, she worked her way backwards over the last several days in her mind.
Today is Tuesday, she thought. I haven’t seen Tim since…last Thursday I guess. He said that they were all putting in serious overtime to keep the planes in the air. One had limped home on one engine and with broken landing gear at the beginning of last week, and this wasn’t tolerated by the brass. Nor was it tolerated by the mechanics themselves.
Chelsea put aside what she had heard about the intense pride that the aircraft maintenance crew had in their job. “What about Tim?”
Tim Giacomo hadn’t told Chelsea anything about having to go out into the field, but that wasn’t surprising. If an aircraft had landed at another of the battle zone’s airfields and had mechanical difficulty, it would have been the crack mechanics from Bagram Air Base that would have been called in to do the repairs. Each base had its own mechanic shop, but everyone knew that the best wrenches in this man’s Army were wielded by the men and women at Bagram.
In fact, Michelle Sarnosky, one of the first female aircraft mechanics in the service, was considered one of the finest at her craft. She worked closely with Tim on some of the intricate parts of the maintenance task. Chelsea had gotten to know and like Michelle as well.
Regardless of the when’s and the why’s, Tim had been wounded on some kind of repair job. Chelsea was doubly concerned for her friend because, though he was heavily sedated when she had first come to his side, Tim had been conscious enough that he should
“Mommy?” she said to Lieutenant McKay.
The head nurse looked into Wendy’s eyes, checking for signs of a concussion. What she saw was a young lady, not concussed, but desperately in need of rest. “No, Corporal Shafer. Not Mommy.” Two other people came to Wendy Shafer’s side and helped her up and toward her CHU. Wendy was given something that was a true luxury, and only possible because the flow of casualties slowed. She was given a full day off.
Meanwhile, Chelsea stepped into the spot recently vacated by Wendy Shafer. Once she knew that her friend wasn’t seriously injured Chelsea didn’t notice what else happened with her. The patient in front of her had taken severe shrapnel from his groin down past his knees on the left side, and slightly less of the same on his right side. He hadn’t been a part of the group that had taken fire. His were the injuries of the roadside bomb.
The bleeding had been somewhat contained as this is the first thing that must be done in the case of shrapnel injury. Captain McGuire was carefully removing the larger metal pieces and closing the wounds as he went. Chelsea glanced to the side and saw that Captain McGuire had probably removed ten pounds of metal fragments from the young man already. He was lucky to be alive.
Chelsea looked toward the young man’s face and was going to tell the still partially conscious soldier exactly that. When Chelsea saw whom the patient was she almost went the route so recently traveled by Corporal Wendy Shafer and hit the floor herself. It was Tim Giacomo.
Chelsea had been trained to act quickly during a time of crisis. That’s why she tore her eyes away from the face of the patient and began dealing with the blood that was still draining from the young soldier’s wounds. As she deftly and expertly went about her task, Chelsea’s mind pored over the fact that her friend had been injured.
The last time Chelsea had seen Corporal Giacomo was…when? As Chelsea’s hands moved over the patient’s body, she worked her way backwards over the last several days in her mind.
Today is Tuesday, she thought. I haven’t seen Tim since…last Thursday I guess. He said that they were all putting in serious overtime to keep the planes in the air. One had limped home on one engine and with broken landing gear at the beginning of last week, and this wasn’t tolerated by the brass. Nor was it tolerated by the mechanics themselves.
Chelsea put aside what she had heard about the intense pride that the aircraft maintenance crew had in their job. “What about Tim?”
Tim Giacomo hadn’t told Chelsea anything about having to go out into the field, but that wasn’t surprising. If an aircraft had landed at another of the battle zone’s airfields and had mechanical difficulty, it would have been the crack mechanics from Bagram Air Base that would have been called in to do the repairs. Each base had its own mechanic shop, but everyone knew that the best wrenches in this man’s Army were wielded by the men and women at Bagram.
In fact, Michelle Sarnosky, one of the first female aircraft mechanics in the service, was considered one of the finest at her craft. She worked closely with Tim on some of the intricate parts of the maintenance task. Chelsea had gotten to know and like Michelle as well.
Regardless of the when’s and the why’s, Tim had been wounded on some kind of repair job. Chelsea was doubly concerned for her friend because, though he was heavily sedated when she had first come to his side, Tim had been conscious enough that he should
Similar Books
