Cate had never seen anything like it. It was horrendous. One minute she’d been terrified for her own fate, the next they’d been inundated with men crying out for help, and she’d barely spent another second worrying about what was going to happen to her. Time was a luxury they didn’t have. It was a race to save lives, patch up wounds, administer morphine and assist the remaining doctors. Even with their usual staff, it would have been a tall order to deal with so many casualties; there were men being rushed in by the dozen.

Her fringe clung limply to her forehead, her skin clammy as she ran between beds, trying her best to drown out the sound of men dying, wishing she could cover her ears. She whispered to the soldier lying on the bed in front of her, his head bandaged and a tourniquet around his leg, waiting for a surgery that would most likely never eventuate. She silently shuddered at the thought of the rot setting into his limb if he didn’t get the operation he needed, which was probably an amputation.

“This will help with the pain,” she said, forcing her smile, knowing that he needed to see her appear outwardly calm. It always surprised her, the change in some men who were gravely injured, close to death even, when they had a nurse touch them and take care of them. She supposed it reminded them of someone from home; a wife or even their mother or sister perhaps, and as she gave him morphine and then wrote a hasty M on his forehead bandage in red, she touched his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. The light in his eyes at her touch made it worth the effort, and she thought of the men regaining consciousness who were being told they’d had the surgery they needed, simply to placate them and put an end to their hysteria. They were being lied to just to keep them calm.

She turned to the next patient, her smile still fixed, but froze in place as she saw the distant, glassy look in his eyes. Cate shuffled forward and pressed two fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse, even though she knew she wouldn’t find one. She’d been nursing long enough to recognize those eyes, as if she were looking at a house with no lights on inside. He was long gone.