They brought in new wounded from the front line every hour, every day. Any emotions you would have had about the parade of young people dying, disfigured, destroyed, you scrubbed them from your mind.
You did mental calculation. Was it simple enough for a nurse to deal with? Move them into the next room. A quick operation? Do it dirty and fast, and move on.
They need major work that might not work? You help them out by taking away their pain and moving on.
One day my son came in.
I scrubbed, I calculated, I helped him move on.
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