Regrets - Personal Narrative

1305 Words3 Pages

Regrets - Personal Narrative My tour of duty or should it be 'tour of hell' was coming to a very welcomed close for myself and my fellow comrades. Getting a slight shrapnel wound was not unwelcome, as it confined me to the field hospital, whittling away a few more days. My stay at the make-shift hospital seemed a lifetime away from the battle as I could only hear the occasional blitz of shell fire echoing in the distance. The frontline must have been a good ten miles away. However, I was experiencing mixed emotions about my absence from the frontline. Obviously the fact that I was only going to be around that day and the next before being shipped home was pleasing and spending my penultimate two days in a field hospital doing absolutely nothing and most importantly in very little pain added to this almost euphoric feeling. But mixed with my joy of not fighting in the trenches was a slightly guilty thought emanating from my conscience, like a snake slithering through grass. If the truth were told I would probably have been classed as fighting fit. I remained in the hospital thanks to the fact that I had been making out that I was in more pain than I actually was and that I was almost completely immobile. In truth I could probably walk relatively freely. This ruse had only probably worked due to a very trustworthy nurse. She has fallen for everything I'd said and moaned about, treating my supposed agony with the utmost care, respect and respect. I must have dozed off in a rare moment of tranquillity in the hospital to be abruptly awoken by the sound of a medical vehicle as it sped up to and halted right outside the tent. The ine... ... middle of paper ... ... numbers of deaths must send morale tumbling, surely? Anyway, all ears devoted, we tuned into the radio listening intently. Names were read out and Stuart's name didn't come. I was beginning to feel the warm glow of relief. But when what was to be the penultimate name was read my vision blurred and I felt dizzy. A surge of nausea threatened to overcome me and I fell on the radio in disbelief. The name 'Jane Daily' echoed in my head. It was she who had probably saved my life. She had been my saviour and I had never even thanked her. She had probably saved my fellow soldier's life although I would probably never know. 'Lost in the course of duty during a German bombing raid on field hospital…………..' I lost consciousness but had the haunting experience of feeling her gentle, comforting reassuring voice envelope me.

More about Regrets - Personal Narrative

Open Document