Harry Parker - Anatomy of a Soldier

They worked as quickly as they could. The rhythm of the machine faltered and the woman updated them with numbers and the body’s condition.

They cut the excess tendon away and stitched a flap of muscle to it with tugs of the white cord that made the flesh wobble. The bone was covered now.

They pulled in other pink slabs of muscle and sutured them together, drawing the slippery mass around the bone. They discussed whether there was a good balance in the stump, if he would have good function. But she interrupted them and said he wouldn’t have any function at all if they lost him on the table.

They started to stitch layers of flesh, using surgical staples to pinch the mess together. The stump took shape and the skin closed around it. They talked to one another as they worked together across the opening. There wasn’t enough skin left to cover the whole of the wound, and wet areas remained along the thigh. He told them they would leave the wound open for now and graft once they were sure there was no infection.

When he was satisfied, he stood back and dropped slimy forceps on the trolley next to me. ‘Right. Mike and Ben, bandage him up, pack the inner thigh where it’s still open and place the drain for the negative pressure dressing there,’ he said, pointing at the groin.

‘Sure. Thanks for that, Al.’

‘No problem, I think we’ve been lucky. Sarah, is he stable now?’

‘He’s been through the mill,’ she said. ‘He’ll need monitoring.’

‘Absolutely. I want him on wide-spectrum anti-fungals. I’m going to see the family now. I’ll nip up to ICU as well to brief the team that he’s coming back. Is everyone happy?’

They were wrapping the stump in gauze when a nurse wheeled the trolley I was on out of the room to a sink. She started to clean the implements around me. When she got to me, she removed my battery, pulled my blade out of its slot and started washing me. All my parts were disinfected and then placed on a draining board to dry.

*

Later, they came in and started to wash their hands.

‘I don’t think you’re going to make that party after all, Ben.’

‘I’m knackered anyway. You were right, Mike, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s just not worth taking the risk,’ he said. ‘Another long session. Through the twelve-hour barrier again.’

‘I hope he’ll be okay. Those infections are vile. I can still smell it. That’s what I find most difficult, the way it seems to linger.’ They dropped their purple-streaked scrubs in a clothes bin. ‘Do you fancy a quick beer? We might get last orders.’

‘Taking the leg off was the best option. It was buggered anyway.’

‘Poor sod.’

‘I’m due back on in the morning so I think I’ll head home. You should see if Mandy’s lot are still out.’

Aktar placed me in Latif’s hand and his clammy fingers pressed around me.

‘It is time now,’ Aktar said. ‘We laid this one during the sandstorm, do you remember?’ He was sitting on a motorbike beside the road.

‘The one beyond the crossroads at Sadiq’s house?’ Latif looked down at me.

‘Yes, and the wire stretches along the ditch across the field. You will be hidden behind the wall. Follow this path for two fields and then along the water until it passes under the wall. You will recognise it.’

‘You said they’ve been moving farther from the roads recently. What happens if they discover me?’ His hand tightened around me.

‘You will be fine, Latif. You’ll be out of sight and far enough away. I am staying back here to keep watch. Ensure that you connect the battery once the infidels are directly opposite the broken water pump. You will be able to see their approach through the gap in the wall.’

‘And I place the wires against each end of the battery?’

‘Yes, and God willing you will destroy them. They are exposed here.’

‘God willing.’

‘You are ready, Latif. You are doing well. God is with us in every hour of our struggle. These men have no right to be here,’ Aktar said. He was resting his hands on the fuel tank. ‘I will wait with the bike on the high ground.’

‘And what if their helicopters come?’

‘Stay down and do not run, do not show yourself. The water in the ditches is deep, so you can submerge yourself as we talked about. Now, you must go before they get to the crossroads. You have done well, Latif. Hassan will be proud.’

Latif dropped me into his pocket and I rolled around as he moved. He walked normally and then we turned a corner and he started to slow. He slid down a bank and his feet sloshed through water. He lifted his thighs as the water deepened and I was submerged. Small bubbles seeped through the cloth around me. He put his hand down to check I was still there.

He stepped out of the ditch. His trousers clung to his legs and his trainers were suddenly heavier. He sat down, pulled me out and placed me upright on a flat rock so I wouldn’t roll off. We were at the end of the ditch where it disappeared into a culvert under a mud wall. The wall had crumbled into slides of sand and rock. It once enclosed a small field but had collapsed and was now overgrown.

Latif dragged himself up to a vertical crack. Beyond it was a wide field, hazed green with the first shoots of a crop. A crossroads bounded the far corner, and trees shaded a gated house. The road extended from the junction and split the field in front of us. Twenty yards from the junction, the bent water pump cast a shadow across the packed road surface.

He knew it and remembered the day, a few weeks earlier, when Aktar had said the conditions were perfect and no one would see them through the storm. They’d been in high spirits, as half blinded by sand they dug up the road. They had reeled out the wire and pushed it down into the freshly ploughed field. Aktar had instructed them to feed the wire through the crack in the wall and cover the end with a round stone.

He found the stone now at the bottom of the wall and the length of wire sprang out from beneath it. The plastic sheath had been stripped away at the end to expose the copper. He moved me up to the crack and positioned me on a rock shelf. He lay on his stomach, rested his chin on his hands and waited.

The water sucked through the culvert beside us and a bird called from the trees at the edge of the field. He felt vulnerable in his cotton shirt; all he had was me. Every ripple of water or creaking branch sounded like approaching steps and he flinched and looked around. But the field was empty and nothing moved on the road. He wondered if Aktar had been wrong about the infidels’ route. He felt tired and his eyes closed. He shook his head. He hoped they wouldn’t come and couldn’t imagine it happening the way Aktar had described it.

*

He heard the truck first. He craned his neck but the gap wasn’t wide enough. And then he saw shadows pass over the dark trunks along the avenue of trees, and the unmistakable silhouette of their helmets and weapons and rucksacks, bristling with antennas. Excitement surged through him. He picked me up in his sweaty palm.

More of them gathered around the junction and the high cab of the vehicle crawled forward. But they checked every inch of ground and he had to wait. The shadow around Latif contracted and he grew hot and frustrated. He yawned. How could he be tired and bored, he thought, with death so close?

He checked behind him again and jolted in shock. Two of them were walking slowly along the broken wall. He gasped, then held his mouth shut. They were twenty yards away. He clenched his fist around me and slowly lowered his head flat, holding his breath, every muscle tensed. He heard one of them speak.

‘Yeah, push on, mate, to the end of the field.’