Tin soldier
Author's Note:
It was to be a tragic
love story.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was sent to the
front with my squad, and on the way, we were ambushed by a landmine. I survived
but the doctor said I needed to have my leg amputated. So I cried and a nurse
came to attend to me. She told me to be brave as I am still alive and well
despite my leg. I looked at the smiling nurse with her nursing band on her forehead;
she looked so angelic in that uniform. She called me the "Tin
Soldier" as I have my tin cup strung on a string around my neck like a
chain. I did that as I have lost my knapsack and I have no place to hold my tin
cup. She held my hand while I sleep waiting for my turn to be operated on.
Soon after my
amputation, I lay in bed most days but the nurse was there to tend to me. From
the nursing visits then became more of a lover's whispers into the late night.
But our liaison was not met in agreement with the doctor who was in love with
the nurse, He came to me during the night before and whispered into my ears,
that he will remove my other leg and also my heart, painfully with every cut of
his scalpel so that I can feel the pain onto my soul. I cried for his forgiveness
but he denies me any relief from the pain.
Whenever I felt
pain in my leg, I pleaded for the medicine to ease the pain, but the doctor
forbids any to be administered by the other nurses. I cried many a time in pain
and one day I decided to take a walk to the garden outside. There I met two
more other soldiers who are in leg cast but they said they are being recalled
to the front as men are needed there. As one of them put it in words for me;
"it's better to die with a bullet than to be in pain here forever.
I threw away my crutches
and told the men I will join them in battle. For in battle, I may die but I
will in be peace to the pains that I have just undergone. I never said goodbye
to the nursing angel but the heart stayed on there when they shipped us out in
the truck. We were sent to the front and was met by the cruel Lieutenant whose
aim was glory at every expense except his life. But I took my place in the
trenches, putting on the heavy metal, and holding onto my rifle. I ignored my
pain in the leg, and devoid of any emotions, as my heart is not with me. Soon
the battle call was heard and the whistle call was made. I climbed the trench
wall like the rest and faced the onslaught of bullets which mowed most of us
down.
Due to my bad leg,
I was lucky to fall on my face before the bullets hit my squad. I crawled on my
elbow and knees, skirting the barbed wires, and dead bodies of my newly met
friends. I peeked back at the trench which I just vacated, I find the officer
of my squad still standing in there, hollering commands at his unheard squad
members. It was then he saw me.
‘You there. Get up
and moved on. I will shoot you if you stay on the ground.’ I did not know what
I feared more; dead by the bullet by my officer or that of the enemy. But I did;
getting up on my good leg, I moved my bad leg forward. And then I moved my good
leg forward and so on with my bad leg. And I find myself running ahead, as the
image of death on the battlefield was my wish, and I faced those enemies'
bullets. But none hit me as yet, when I reached the enemy trench. I jumped in
there with my bayonet and stabbed the first enemy I could find. I pulled out my
bayonet to see it attached to the dead man’s wallet. I pulled out his wallet
from my bayonet, and to my surprise, a photo dropped off. It was a photo of my
nurse with the man I just killed. I picked it up and see my love for another
man.
Or is it I am in
love with another man’s love?
I am ever
confused. It was then, someone finally shot me, and I fell onto the man I just
killed. As I lay there for my last breath, I whispered my apology to my nurse
for killing his love. I did not mean to do it, but I believe I do love her more
than anyone. And I closed my eyes for the day I will meet my maker. It was not
what I expected, to be awake in the same hospital that I was in before. I
looked at my wounds, and find my bad leg all bandaged. I looked across the room
and saw her coming towards me. I wanted to tell her about the killing but she
hushed me with her finger on my lips.
‘You just came out
of surgery. We saved your leg, and you will be fine.’ And so she left me for
her work with other patients. The ‘devious’ doctor then came, and checked my
bandages; ‘you will be fine. She will take care of you well.’
‘Ain’t you jealous?’
I asked. ‘Me? No, why should I be? Everyone knows you love her. You made it
known in your declaration of love in the surgery room. We all heard you loud
and clear. she knows now too how much you love her. So do recover.’ I looked at
the nurse who healed me, and I was lost for words. Was it a dream I went through
and I am now really awake? I must have been as she is standing before me. She
took the words from me and hugged me for the first time since the surgery. And
it was also our last time, as we never saw the bomb that landed on the ward. I
guess we died that day, but our love will live on.
No comments:
Post a Comment