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,


    and 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.


    *