Page 105 of The Girls of Pearl Harbor
There was a soldier less than a few steps away, holding his stomach, writhing in pain, and as she got closer, she could see he was trying to stop his insides from falling out.
‘Stay still—keep applying pressure,’ she ordered, her own hands hovering, not sure what to do. She ducked when the incessant shelling sounded out again, holding her breath for a second before leaping into action the moment there was a pause in shooting. She knew better than to move a critical patient, but there was nothing else she could do; it was the only way to save him.
‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. Hands tight under his armpits, she hauled him backward, gritting her teeth as she fought for each step, dragging a man so heavy she could barely move him an inch. When she finally got him to what was left of the hut, she set him down, her arms burning, hands cramping up as she collapsed for a moment, catching her breath.
‘What’s happened to him? What does he need—’
‘His insides are falling out,’ she cried. ‘When he moves his hands, there’ll be blood everywhere—I won’t be able to see, I won’t ...’
‘You can do this, April. I believe in you, and I can talk you through it. Come on.’
She took a deep breath and hauled the soldier back farther, toward where Harry was lying, propped up on his side now so he could see.
‘Get your padding ready, anything you have left to wad inside of him, and your needle threaded.’
She scrambled through her pack, found the last of her surgical thread, and checked it was ready to use.
‘Listen to me, and move fast, April. I’ll be your eyes; you just need to follow my instructions,’ Harry said, his voice raspy and telling her he was in pain, that each sentence was a struggle to get out.
‘Oh God!’
The soldier’s hands fell from his stomach, and she dropped beside him, watching as the blood spurted out and he went still, his parted lips no longer moaning in pain.
‘Check the organs; tell me what you see.’
‘It’s his bowel,’ she said, using the only piece of towel she had left to slow the blood loss. ‘I can see it’s torn ... it’s ...’
‘Sew it up quickly, as best you can,’ Harry said. ‘It’ll be a mess, but it’ll give him a chance to live. The surgeons can fix him up when he gets to a hospital—just do what you can.’
She didn’t look up, just listened to Harry’s words and let his calmness wash over her.
‘Stitch fast, and then you need to sew his side up. Splash some alcohol over him.’
April’s hands were steady now, her focus absolute as she finished the bowel, splashed the alcohol, removed the toweling, and then sewed up the side of the poor man. She was only grateful he hadn’t regained consciousness.
‘Leave some more morphine beside him, in case he wakes up, and go check if you’re needed out there,’ Harry said.
April checked her work and said a quick prayer for the soldier before jumping to her feet, dizzy as the room spun around her.
‘You’re going to make a fine doctor one day, April,’ Harry rasped.
Panic mixed with pride as she glanced back at Harry and saw the look on his face, knew that he was speaking from the heart.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ she said, and she grabbed her pack and dropped low to crawl back down the beach. ‘I promise.’
She low-crawled her way around fallen men, some who’d already been treated and others who were already dead. There was movement in the other beach huts—she presumed the other doctors and possibly the battalion doctors had joined them—but it was screaming that caught her attention.
Is that Grace?
‘Help me! Please, somebody help me!’
April lifted her head for a second and saw her sister, on her knees and calling frantically for help. It was only now there was a short lull in shelling that she’d been able to hear her.
She moved fast, crawling like a highly trained soldier, covering the ground quickly until she reached Grace’s side. She grabbed her hand. ‘What are you doing here? Why haven’t you left him and moved on?’
‘It’s Teddy,’ Grace sobbed. ‘We can’t leave him, April—I won’t leave him.’
‘Teddy?’ She peered down at the dirty face, at frantic wide eyes that appeared not to see anything, filled with blood and shards of something. ‘You’re sure?’ She couldn’t even tell.
