The Field Hospital - A Side Story of The War for Nonpo

[completelynewguy]

Ever since she was deployed to the jungle-infested, uncontrollable hell that was Nonpo and soldiered past the FUBAR landing of Suzu beach, squad medic Alyssa Cowper found herself at her mental limit.

As she trudged through non-Newtonian mud that threatened to swallow her feet, with a squad comprised of marines she knew from the Almayer and the United Americas garrison chattering away, with her pulse rifle slung over her shoulder and eyes focused on her heads-up-display. Ally was instructed to stay near the center, not too far to help when the fighting kicks off; not too close when some unlucky sap steps on a landmine. Her eyes flitted between the individual health-statuses of her overt, fellow soldiers. Upon marching through what seemed to be another mile of jungle-slop, Alyssa yawned and rubbed her eyes as she gazed up at the cloudy mid-morning sky. The squad and a few others were given orders to trek as far as possible, and then make camp when they stop for the day. It seemed like a bad idea, and Carson figured it would be ingenious for grabbing as much land as the supply lines can support while providing the space necessary to form a front line for the eventual push towards the mainland.

Done with her exercise in breaking the monotony of marching through mud, Ally focused her eyes back onto the front of her squad's column. Their squad size reached around the Goldilocks' optimal number. Five or less, would allow the marines to become overwhelmed in an ambush; while ten or more, made the squad slow and burdensome making Carson's gambit useless. And so, the squad chose lucky number seven; with the majority of the members from Nonpo's UA garrison. Cowper, an Engineer with the last name of Williams, and a Smartgunner with the last name of Murdoch were what made the squad effective. Behind Cowper was Williams, and behind two Nonponese marines was Murdoch. Ally continued focusing on her HUD, eardrums besieged with the banter and chatter of her fellow Almayer marines and the Japanese-accented English of the Nonponese. She quickly got used to the Almayer marines teaching their Nonpo counterparts how to say: "Me fuck you long time." and "Rock and Roll". The only consolation that she could provide for herself was correcting her partners. "'Me fuck you long time' is a Vietnamese phrase. They're Japs man," Alyssa would occasionally grunt as the marines went through the accented gamut of phrases.

Soon, it was nearing the evening showing as the sky waned in its blue and white, yielding to a darker and darker navy. While the sun set, the Nonpo marines busied themselves with the basic functions of the camp - latrine, tent area, rucksack caching area, and fighting positions set into the soft dirt and mud. The Almayer men focused on using their skills to their full potential. Alyssa quickly assembled a triage station with a basic medical kit; Williams assembled traps, barricades, and flare trip mines; while Murdoch familiarized himself with the area and maintained his kit.

Upon nightfall approaching, the squad took four-hour shifts, upon the advice of Ally. The night itself was a cruel reiteration of a soured lover. It was nice to sit in near-pitch black darkness, with nothing but the sound of the fauna and your own thoughts to pass the time. But at the same time, it was hostile to the marines. It seemed that the night called out to where they were to the National Nonponese Front, even as they made sure any ammo counters they had out were covered, and any source of light carefully policed. The NNF themselves claimed to have direct lineage to the ninja of old, but the men knew better.

Ally was in the sleeping area, hand carefully cupping the small, red flashlight as she wrote a letter. What kept Ally in the game, and ineligible for Section 8, was a recent love she shared with a doctor sometime after securing Suzu. His name was McShale, but he kept it at Duncan. The two met in a field hospital, occupied by stabilized patients, sharing a pack of Koorlander Gold and a looted flask of sake. The two passed the time quickly and released the tension about their future. He joked, she laughed. She offered a light, he said, "Thank you". He offered a swig, she gladly accepted. She told a joke, he laughed. His hand brushed hers. Their held hands lead them to the barracks.

It was near the end of a Nonpo marine's shift, who was to be relived by Murdoch when a flare was tripped. Soon, the northern perimeter of the camp was revealed as an ethereal, red glow roared. The Nonpo marine was quick to wake up and begin firing out towards the perimeter. His action caught Ally's attention as she hastily folded her letter over and scrambled out of her shared tent with Williams. Soon enough, the whole of the camp was up and about, shoulder-lamps glaring and weapons at the ready. It seemed like hours before the NNF's khaki fatigues pushed for an attack, shouting a fierce and ancient battlecry in Japanese, with their members blindly scrambling towards the marines. The push against the camp was thwarted as the traps set by Williams - disguised deadfalls, punji pits of varying size, and old-fashioned Claymores - proved their worth. Murdoch's smartgun screeched at the attackers, gunning down those foolhardy enough to step out of their piece of brush or tree trunk. Ally was focusing on using her rifle, knowing well that her triage would do the job if any of them got hit. Williams was occasionally trading shots with the khaki-clad guerrillas, as he was too busy relaying to the squad about how many traps were left.

Then a crashing noise followed by harsh ringing, that stayed for what was forever, enveloped her. She knew by instinct that a grenade was successfully lobbed over. But she felt it was more destructive, a harder impact. Alyssa found herself opening her eyes to the sight of a crater that had to have been created by a mortar round. She checked herself, finding a jagged splinter of shrapnel jutting out of the lower part of her M3 Pattern vest and her right arm and head cut up and bruised. She then looked around her position in the camp, pivoting her neck and head as if she was simply too drunk. Murdoch was shouting at Cowper, smartgun firing in too long of a burst to be effective at killing the khaki-clad bastards. Williams was busy dragging her by the rucksack, and out of their fighting position, to effectively shoot his M4A3. Two out of the four, chatty yet youthful Nonponese that had served with them were lying still in what was the crater. They lacked an arm, a hand. They shared a commonality in that they lost their legs and that they weren't moving. The remaining two were embracing the mud, once in a while taking advantage of a lull in the firefight to return fire and drag themselves with the Almayer marines.

Ally soon lost consciousness, soon after blinking her eyes to get rid of an eyelash, dirt, or dried blood. As she came to, she found herself in a field hospital that somehow elicited a feeling of nostalgia from her. She began to move out of the cot she was lying on when she suddenly felt a familiar hand smooth her cheek. She was fortunate enough to had survive the ordeal; and fortunate enough to have been sent to the same field hospital as Duncan for recuperation. As soon as she was in walking condition, Ally gave a kiss to her lover and her letter for him. The two were afraid of leaving each other, but they both knew what choices they were making.

Alyssa found out that her squadmates were fine, but were deeply sorry about the loss of their two Nonpo buddies. Upon making a full recovery, Duncan gave a good-luck kiss as Ally gathered her things. Upon approaching the field hospital's entrance and exit, as the base was surrounded by razorwire and sandbags, a familiar hiss and roar followed by a boom sounded out and was soon followed by an exhale of wind originated from the surgeon's tents. Alyssa rushed to the tattered, shrapnel-torn area, but she was too late to help anyone. She could only search for the bloody and broken body of Duncan, the only thing she can do for him was to comfort in her arms as he breathed his last. When he passed, and the other medics managed to carefully extract his body from her, she did not cry. Alyssa only looked at her bloodied hands as she let the tears build up, overflowing onto open palms. It did little to wash off what was left of Duncan's life.

Soon after the tears began to flow, a marine - she didn't bother to look up to see if they were from the Almayer or the Nonpo Garrison - quickly got to her and held her with their arms in a gesture of comfort and acknowledgment before getting her up and to a seat in the Mess Hall.

[Martzin]

I wasn't expecting this. Nice read.

[completelynewguy]

Thank you.

[Mook476]

This is a dope story nice job .

[xywenx00]

Nice story. Appreciate that you put effort in to give us something like this.