Doc

My job everyday

“MEDIC! DOC! Doc the Sergeant’s been hit! Help him!” The words rang in my head alongside the sound of incoming rounds and mortar fire. The world was slow and ethereal as I moved forward. With my M4 at the ready I squeezed of another two rounds that landed in another man’s chest. The body of a child, burnt and contorted lay off to the side in an alleyway.

We were not in much more than a poor shantytown, but it was crawling with enemy combatants trying to rally the people against us. Unfortunately for us; we could not able to evacuate all the residents before we were ambushed with RPG’s and light arms fire.

“Doc! Where are you?” At one time the word Doc was said with such an affectionate tone. Now all I hear is the terror heavy in the soldier’s voice. It sounded like PFC. Wilkerson, but with all the rounds embedding themselves in the wall behind me it is hard to tell. I have to jump over the remnants of a fallen wall that spilled into the street.

“Doc! Over here Doc!” There they are! Behind what was left of a wall to the village butcher shop. It had taken me weeks to quell the stomach viruses produced by that abomination. PFC. Wilkerson stood over Sgt. Harris. A pool of blood forming around his partially amputated leg. I jump to his kit and pool out the tourniquet. In my head I am going over the times in my head that I set for my self. Twenty seconds to apply a tourniquet high and tight. I wrench down on the windlass until the last of the arterially bleeding spurts out from his shattered leg.

“Wilkerson! Give me a hand and some cover fire. We are going to pull him into the building under better cover,” I yell over the sound of a mortar demolishing the village’s only store. I grab onto Sgt. Harris’s body amour as Wilkerson and I pull him back while returning fire. As we drag him into the back room I see PV2 Richards and PV2 Gomez on the radio desperately trying to get air support. Richards palled at the sight of the sergeant and Gomez lost his stomach. I was now senior as a Specialist.

I quickly began my assessment. I checked my tourniquet. It was good I went down the list one by one. Shallow, but adequate breathing. No radial pulses, unconscious, and severe trauma. I pull the red kit from my bag. I open it up. I throw on a constricting band high on his arm and hit the vein with a catheter. I work on getting an IV line running. Success. Good. I’d hit to have to hit him through the bone. I begin checking the rest of his body with expert hand. All good except for his leg so far. Maybe they can salvage it. I hope. I roll him onto his uninjured side and quickly run my fingers down his spine. Good. Good. Good. Good. S**t! Step off!

I say a silent prayer for the Sgt. I refuse to let the other soldier see the distress that I feel inside. He will be the luckiest man alive if they can save his leg. He will have the blessings of every god and goddess created by the human race with he can feel anything below Sacral portion of his spine and have his leg saved. I knew that this was probably Sgt. Harris’s last run. He could be saved, but he would not be the same. I would rather send him home broken than in a box.

“Give me the radio Richards.” I said as he handed me the hand mic, “Spartan Command. This is Spartan Medic. I have a MEDEVAC request to follow.”

“Go Ahead with that MEDEVAC Spartan Medic.” I give it to them straight forward. I am honest in my classifications. I give the correct coordinates and enemy strength. I know the lines forward and backward. I learned them early for this very day.

“Birds inbound on your position Spartan Medic.” Looks like Air Support would be coming after all.

Author's Note

I could not be as descriptive with certain info. Sorry

Reviews

[SamBug]

Amazing. Well done. I love it so much! Great write. Thanks for sharing!

[Arctic Fox]

well love...this was just a short...no more to follow as of now

[Kiba-chan]

This is wonderfully written. Wording is fabulous and dispite the fact you cant be as discriptive as you want, it is extensive. :3 I cannot wait to read more

[Ruth]

Graphic and disturbing love, I can understand you having to contain certain info.....your work holds vividness that renders me moved and my goodness, depressing but I think harsh tones of reality have to be written and purged! Excellent piece love xx