Chapter Text
This had been, by far, longest week of Eugene Roe’s life.
In all honesty, he felt like he hadn’t had a proper break since they first landed in Normandy, and that was months ago. But these past few days had been something else entirely. The cold alone was enough to make everyone’s life miserable. Add constant shelling and occasional firefights to that and it was total hell.
Eugene had lost count of how many they’d lost since getting stuck in Bastogne. Until then, he’d always kept an unconscious tab in his head.
So many lives he couldn’t save.
Maybe it was good he’d lost count. It eased the guilt a little. Then again, thinking about feeling less guilty made him feel even more guilty.
God, emotions were complicated.
Eugene held back a sigh. He needed to focus. There was no apparent end in sight, no matter how tired he was. And heavens was he tired. He didn’t sleep at all last night, and the night before wasn’t much better. He thought he got an hour or two of shut-eye then. He would’ve slept longer, but it started raining shells once again, followed by several calls for a medic, which he couldn’t ignore.
Rations were pretty tight too. On a good day they got three meals, one of them warm. Today was not a good day. The road was blocked and supplies couldn’t come in until they got it cleared. And that meant medical supplies too, of course.
Eugene would have to survive today with what he had, which wasn’t a lot. Some bandages, four packets of sulfa, rusty scissors, a needle, some thread, and three syrettes. He would need to prioritize and ration heavily.
“Hey, doc?” he heard Malarkey call.
“Yeah?” he replied without even looking up.
“I think something’s wrong with Toye.”
That was enough to make Eugene stop fiddling with his supplies and look at Malarkey. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“I don’t really know, man, but I think you should take a look at him,” Malarkey said, his expression nervous.
“Alright, gimme a sec,” Eugene muttered. He stuffed all his remaining supplies into his bag and threw it over his shoulder. As he stood up to follow Malarkey, he felt the ground tilt.
Thank God there was a large tree next to him that he could grab onto or he would’ve ended right back on the ground. Eugene held onto that tree like a lifeline until the world finally stopped spinning. He held back a groan, not wanting Malarkey to think anything was wrong.
“You okay, doc?”
But of course he noticed anyway. He had literally almost fainted. Probably wasn’t hard to miss him stumble into the tree like a drunkard.
“I’m fine,” Eugene muttered, trying to get his bearings again. After a moment he felt strong enough to let go of the tree, and so he did. Luckily his legs were able to hold his weight and he didn’t stumble again.
“You sure?” Malarkey pressed. “You look tired.”
“Everyone’s tired,” Eugene stated. “It’s been a long week. I’m fine.”
Malarkey seemed to accept this for now. At least he stopped protesting and quietly led the way towards Toye’s foxhole.
Turns out the wound Toye sustained in the last shelling was getting infected. Eugene couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt at his possible involvement in this. There was probably something he could’ve done differently to prevent the infection back when he initially treated the wound.
Now there wasn’t much to do except clean the wound and rewrap it. He didn’t even have any antibiotics to give the man. Curse that blocked road.
After he did what he could, he told Malarkey to stay with Toye and call if anything changed. “And when the road gets cleared, try to get him on the next jeep going into town,” he added. “They’ll have antibiotics to treat the infection.”
“Alright,” Malarkey acknowledged. “Thanks, doc.”
Eugene forced a small smile. “Anytime. Just wish I could do more.”
“You’re doing what you can,” Malarkey assured. “It’s not your fault we don’t have enough supplies.”
Eugene wanted to reply, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead he gave Malarkey another half-smile and climbed out of the foxhole.
He barely made it halfway back to his own hole before there was a whistle in the air.
“Incoming!” someone shouted.
Eugene ran the rest of the way and dove into the hole, holding onto his helmet as the first explosions shook the ground.
He closed his eyes and blocked his ears, trying to muffle the sounds around him. It didn’t work, of course, but at least it gave him a little comfort.
“Medic!”
So much for staying in the safety of the hole.
Eugene took a deep breath, preparing himself for the task ahead. There was no knowing what might be waiting for him. A limb torn off. A tree fallen on someone. Someone he could save. Someone already dead.
Focus, Eugene. They need you.
Finally gathering the courage to do so, the medic climbed out of the hole and took a quick look around before sprinting towards the shout he heard.
He barely noticed when the shelling stopped.
Even as the others calmed down and resumed doing whatever they were doing before, Eugene’s work was far from over. The screams, the blood and the tears didn’t stop when the explosions ceased. There was still chaos.
Bandages ran out far too quickly, and he had to start using other types of cloth. Anything he could get his hands on. The infection risk from using non-sterile materials crossed his mind, but it had to be pushed aside. First, he had to make sure these people didn’t bleed to death.
There were six people in desperate need of morphine, but Eugene only had those three syrettes. It was difficult to pick who to give them to when they were clearly all in terrible pain. But he’d made difficult decisions before, and he was able to do it again.
At one point he remembered he wasn’t supposed to be alone and asked after Spina, but was told the other medic was stuck in town along with the supplies. Eugene was not one to curse, but in that moment he felt it was warranted.
A replacement, whose name Eugene found out was Nick, was so out of it that he punched the medic when he tried to tie his leg. It hurt, but the cold in the air numbed the pain, and the rush made him forget about it altogether soon enough.
It all became a blur. His ears rang. Blood splattered all over him. His fingers became numb. Comforting words came out jumbled.
He didn’t even hear it when Winters called his name. It took the officer laying a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to the present. He realized then that the situation had calmed down. No more screams.
“Eugene, they cleared the road,” Winters informed. “Spina should be here soon. You should take a break.”
“Can’t, sir,” the medic mumbled. “Need to stop the bleedin’,”
“Alright, but as soon as Spina gets here, he’s taking over, okay?”
“’Kay,” Eugene hummed, already settling back into work-mode as he unrolled the next bandage.
He wasn’t sure if a minute or an hour passed, but Winters was by his side again, a hand on his shoulder to catch his attention.
“Spina’s back,” he said. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
Eugene managed to nod slowly. He pulled his hands away from his current patient, wiping his bloodstained hands on a nearby cloth. But he refused to get up before he actually saw Spina take over.
“I got it now, Gene,” the other medic assured, having suddenly appeared on his other side. Spina knelt down next to the soldier Eugene had been tending to and got to work.
Finally accepting that he could stop without anyone dying, Eugene stood up. He did it slowly, with a little help from Winters who had definitely noticed something was off.
As soon as he got his feet under him, he waved the officer off, signaling he could manage. Winters let him go, and Eugene managed to make his way to a nearby tree before sliding down to sit against its trunk.
He closed his eyes, but sleep didn’t find him. He was still too high on adrenaline.
He lost time again, and was startled by someone calling his name an unknown amount of time later. Opening his eyes, he could register it was Spina who was talking to him.
“Gene, could you help me out a bit here?”
It didn’t sound like anything urgent, thankfully. But someone needed help, and help was what Eugene was here for.
“Sure,” he muttered, not sure if his voice carried any further than to his own ears. He supported himself against the tree as he pushed himself up.
His vision darkened at the edges as he struggled to get his legs under him – legs that felt like jelly. He barely managed to keep his knees from buckling, even while still heavily leaning on the tree.
Spina was speaking again, but he couldn’t make out the words. His head spun, making it difficult to tell which way was up.
Still, he pushed himself away from the tree. Someone needed him. Someone was dying. No, wait, did Spina say that? Or was it not urgent?
Even the possibility of it being the former was enough to drive Eugene to attempt to take a step forward.
And suddenly the world was sideways.
He could hear Spina’s voice again, still not registering what he was saying, but he could tell it was urgent. He needed to get up.
There were other voices too. They sounded urgent too. He was fairly sure he heard his name spoken. But he couldn’t see anymore. Everything was blurring together, dark edges threatening to consume his entire field of vision.
Get up, Eugene. Someone needs you.
Then there was nothing but darkness. At least it was calm now.