The Great War

The gunfire in the near distance didn’t faze me after ten months of war. I had a job to do and with few hours of sleep and lack of food, the lieutenant couldn’t believe my energy. The truth was, I hid my exhaustion because the men needed my surgical skills.

I operated on an eighteen-year-old boy who took two bullets to the leg. By the time he came to me, it was too late. I had to remove it, or he’d die.

The captain said ‘The Great War' would end soon.

I wished I believed him as another casualty arrived.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher