"Uh, Allied Forces Headquarters. I'm Boyle, this is Lieutenant Kazimierz."
There was a silence as Dunbar and Casselli both looked at me, then each other. Casselli gave a little shrug.
"I don't have time to play games, Lieutenant. We'll find out later if you don't want to tell us. Then I'll file a report with your CO letting him know that someone's incompetence has obligated us to waste a valuable resource." With that, Dunbar took the penicillin from Casselli. He drew it off with a syringe and injected Kaz, who gave no sign of feeling the needle.
"You called it penicillin?" I asked, keeping my eyes glued to Kaz. "Never heard of it."
"We're the first hospital in a combat zone to have it," said Dunbar. "It's a real wonder drug. It kills a wide range of bacteria, all of them deadly. Including Clostridium, which is what's causing your friend's gangrene to progress so rapidly."
"It'll stop that?"
"It should." For the first time, Dunbar didn't sound so cocky.
"Should?"
"Listen, Boyle, this is brand new stuff. We know it knocks out bacteria like nothing we've ever seen. I just don't know if it will kill the bacteria fast enough. If it's already spread throughout his system, it may be too late. We wouldn't need to worry if you had brought him in sooner."
"It's worked every time so far, right Doctor Dunbar?" said Casselli.
"Yes. Everyone we saw yesterday is stabilized."
It took me a second to get what he was saying. "You mean you used this for the first time yesterday?"
"I said it was brand new, didn't I?" Dunbar sat on Kaz's bed and began cleaning his wound. He poured alcohol over it but Kaz didn't open his eyes or even flinch.
"This wound has to be debrided," Dunbar said. "Sergeant, would you find a nurse and ask her to bring the instruments? Boyle, you wait outside."
"Debrided?" I asked as I moved toward the door.
"We have to cut away the dead tissue. Nothing to worry about, just not pleasant to watch."
He didn't have to tell me twice. I went into the hall and sat on a bench. In a minute Casselli returned, followed by a nurse carrying a tray of shiny sharp instruments. By the looks of them I was glad Dunbar had kicked me out.
"You look like you could use a cup of joe," Casselli said when he appeared. "Don't worry about your buddy. Dunbar may be a jerk, but he's a good doctor."
"Is he always in such a bad mood?"
"Well," Casselli considered, "I can't say he's ever in a good mood, but this is worse than usual. He lost real bad in a big poker game last night. Not for the first time, either."
"Officers gambling? Isn't that against regulations?" I asked with mock innocence.
"Yeah, right. Our CO is a regular along with Dunbar and a few other guys. They've been playing for pretty big stakes lately. Getting close to the shooting war can have that effect."
"How big?"
"Sawbuck ante."
"Wow. Must make for some really big pots."
"Yep. Dunbar used to do pretty good for himself. Since we left England though, his luck's run out. He's in fairly deep to the CO and a surgeon."
"He looks like he's from money. May not be a big deal."
"Maybe. Maybe not. You want some joe or not? I'm buying."
"Coffee sounds great. Lead on."
The mess hall was a beehive of activity. Tables were being set up for breakfast and the smell of fresh coffee floated out to us. Cases of food and supplies were being unloaded from trucks and carried through the mess hall into the kitchen by GIs in olive drab T-shirts. Double doors leading out into the courtyard stood wide open and the trucks were backed up to them, endless stacks of food and who knows what else being handed down and carried in.
"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" said Casselli as we helped ourselves to coffee from an industrial-sized urn.
"What is?" I asked. We headed for a table and sat.
"Just think about it," said Casselli. "We've only been here three days and already have a whole supply system set up, this General hospital in operation, field hospitals up the line, all while we're keeping the guys at the front supplied. Tons of supplies are moving down that coast road every hour."
"I took all that stuff for granted. It's always just… there," I said, shrugging my acceptance of enough beans and bullets to get the job done.
"I guess I'll take that as a compliment to supply sergeants everywhere in the ETO," Casselli said. "Nobody thinks about us until they run out of gas. Or coffee. Or if the phones don't work. The lines were all dead when we got here, and Walton blew a fuse. We ran almost a thousand feet of wire to get him his telephone. All in a day's work."
I raised my cup to him. "Here's to the unsung heroes," I said. "Supply sergeants and miracle drugs."
"That penicillin stuff is really something," Casselli said excitedly, leaning forward. "We're the first general hospital to get it. They're just starting to mass-produce it in the States. Scientists have known about it since 1929, but they were never able to produce more than a teaspoon- fill, until some outfit called Pfizer figured it out last year."
"Showing off again, Joe?" A honey soft voice came from behind us. Casselli jumped a bit, and his face went a little red. He stood up like a small child caught at something by a teacher.
"Lieutenant Boyle, this is Captain Morgan, head of Nursing for the 21 st," said Casselli.
"Why Joe, we're never so formal here, are we? The name is Gloria Morgan, Lieutenant Boyle."
"Billy Boyle, ma'am," I said as I stood up.
"Well, Billy, your Polish friend is indeed lucky. Without this new miracle drug Joe was telling you all about, he'd most likely be dead in twenty-four hours."
Gloria Morgan had my attention, in more ways than one. She was the kind of woman who took over a room with her presence. She had a pile of wavy brown hair tied back and deep brown eyes up front. Her face was wide, more striking than pretty, high cheekbones and a strong chin gave her face a determined look, even when she was just standing there. She looked at me with a bit of a smile on her lips that made anything she said seem like good news, delivered with just a trace of a soft southern accent. She was probably in her mid-thirties, maybe even forty, but it was apparent that she was in great shape, even in the Army fatigues she wore. I struggled to say something, to stop staring at her.
"Well, ma'am… uh, Captain, Joe was just filling me in on this penicillin thing…"
"Call me Gloria, Billy," she said, "this isn't a parade ground."
"All right, Gloria," I managed to get out. I realized she was the oldest woman I had ever called by her first name. She stood there, smiling at me pleasantly, until I remembered my manners.
"Please, join us," I said as gallantly as I could, holding a chair out for her.
"Why thank you, Billy. I will. Just for a few minutes, before I get back to my shift." She sat down with her cup of coffee and so did we. There was a quiet around the table, as if we were eagerly waiting to hear what she had to say next. I sure was. Then I remembered Kaz.
"How is Kaz? Lieutenant Kazimierz, I mean. My Polish friend." I got my mouth to stop flapping and grinned, probably looking like an idiot.
"You can stop worrying, Billy. His wound has been dressed and we gave him something to make sure he sleeps. He should be out for the rest of the day. Rest and penicillin are all he needs now. You brought him in just in time. He'll be fine."
"Thank you. I can't tell you how relieved that makes me."
"Is Lieutenant Kazimierz on the Headquarters staff too?" asked Casselli. Gloria glanced at him and then focused on me.
"Which HQ are we talking about?" she asked, as she held her coffee cup up to her mouth and blew on it. A tiny wisp of steam rose from its surface.
"Allied Forces Headquarters," I said, trying not to sound too pompous. "We're both on General Eisenhower's staff."