Chapter 6. Forgotten

At first Winston wasn't sure where he was. He was lying on

a ground sheet in the open and wounded soldiers were being

laid out beside him.

He rubbed his eyes and saw a thin silver chain wrapped around

his wrist. It was a necklace and attached to it was a small pendant

with a "V" engraved.

He had no idea where it had come from, or who it belonged to.

"Welcome back to the land of the living."

He recognised the voice.

"Don't sit up Winston."

It was Harry Patch, one of the ambulance transport officers

who sometimes came forward to retrieve the wounded from

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the regimental aid posts. "What happened Harry?"

"You don't remember?"

Winston shook his head and it hurt.

"You were already at the aid post when I got there. Do you know

where you are?"

The question unsettled him. Winston often asked wounded soldiers

the same thing to judge their level of awareness.

"Outside the casualty clearing centre by the looks of it."

Harry nodded. "That's a good start. You've got a head wound Winston.

The Doctors will come and have a look at you after they're finished

with the worst of the other lads. The bullet that parted your hair so nicely

bounced off that thick Yorkshire skull of yours."

Tiredness washed over Winston. He lay back and tried to keep his eyes

open but couldn't.

"Rest up old son," Harry said." You might get a week or two off to mend,

but it won't be enough to get you a ticket home."

*

Harry was gone when Winston woke up. He was still on the

ground outside the casualty clearing centre. Sheets now covered

the faces of some of the men closest to him. Pieces of his memory

started to return.

He hadn't felt any pain when he was shot in the head. He'd stumbled

forward as if he'd been unexpectedly pushed, but then he remembered

being shot in the back. The bullet had come out his chest pulling the

air in his lungs with it.

How was that possible? Winston felt his chest. His uniform was stiff

with crusted blood but there was no wound beneath.

Winston knew the morphine given as pain relief sometimes played

tricks on a soldier's mind. He lay back and tried to make sense of it.

Almost at once re-lived being shot in the side of the face.

It was a stinging, scalding sensation like being splashed with boiling

water. He remembered putting his hand to his face and touching the

exposed bone of his cheek and eye socket.

How could it seem so real, if it wasn't ?

Winston looked at the necklace wrapped around his wrist again,

maybe it had something to do with it all.

*