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.Morgan replied, a bit confused.“It's just a figure of speech,” David answered.“Quite right, quite right,” replied Dr.Morgan.“For my records, would you happen to know what this young lad's name is?“John Starnes.At least, that is what he told me before he went under,” David replied.Dr.Morgan looked thoughtfully at the young, wounded private as he laid unconscious.Applying the finishing touches to the bandage, he said, “Well, Mister Starnes, I'd say you were a very lucky man.If it were anyone else attending to you, you'd be dead.” Dr.Morgan looked to David and said, “The ingratitude.Not even a thank you.”David laughed a bit at the comic relief, then added, “Damn Rebs.”Both men chuckled a bit, then made their way back to the old farmhouse for another long session of operating.---- ---- ---- ---- ----The hours turned into days and the days turned into weeks as the teams of medical personnel worked on the thousands of wounded soldiers.Among the Union wounded, many Confederate wounded were treated too, and kept under guard until they were deemed satisfactory for travel to prison camps.With each passing day, more wounded were transported from the crude confines of the old farmhouses and barns to the regular Union military hospitals.David and Dr.Morgan kept a careful watch over the young John Starnes as his condition improved.Soon he was able to sit up on his own, and was making great strides toward walking.David knew that other Confederates with greater wounds were leaving for the prison camps.Pvt.Starnes' life was no longer in danger, and his health was improving by the day.With so many others with more pressing concerns, John Starnes' time had come.He would be leaving in the morning for prison.---- ---- ---- ---- ----The fire started out as a careless ember and was allowed to grow unchecked.Outside, the fire grew from the fire ring that boiled water for surgery, across the open yard and up the front porch of the old farmhouse.As the winds fanned the flames, it quickly grew out of control, carrying with it heavy smoke that signaled the first signs of trouble.Inside the farmhouse, the oil lamps burned brightly, lighting the tables that held the wounded soldiers.The surgeons worked as they always worked; at a harried pace, racing against time as the effects of chloroform wore off.The stench of disease and rotting flesh hung heavy like a blanket as the doctors tried to concentrate on serious matters.As the smoke wafted into the farmhouse, at first the pleasant aroma of seasoned oak and birch soothed their senses as it masked other offending odors, but quickly, smoke began to fill the rooms, alarming all inside of the pressing danger that crept up the front porch.In minutes, a call for help rang out, and all inhabitants evacuated the farmhouse.As the fire spread, every available man came to the rescue with buckets of water from the nearby creek.Although they worked feverishly, their efforts were in vain.As they extinguished one area, another raged out of control.Within minutes, the old farmhouse became completely engulfed in flames.One hour later, the farmhouse was reduced to nothing more than a pile of smoldering embers.The reduction in operating facilities did not reduce the wounded.With many still in great need of medical attention, the doctors operated outside on the cold hard ground as best they could until morning, when they could better address the problem.After several hours, David's knees were too sore to continue.He found a small soft area in the infirmary with the recovering wounded, and laid down for a moment of much needed rest.---- ---- ---- ---- ----“Sergeant, search these stalls,” Lt.Decker ordered.“Yes sir,” Sgt.Ripley replied.Sgt.Ripley and a few of his men began to check the wounded soldiers of each stall.Many of them lay on their stomachs due to injuries from behind, and the rough searches by the sergeant's men at times produced cries of pain as the wounded were rolled over for identification.David woke from his sound sleep upon hearing the screams from the stall across from him.He sat up and watched in horror as two soldiers roughly turned over a resting man and demanded his name and rank.Satisfied, they moved onto the next resting soldier.David immediately stood and ran to the aid of the next man in line of rough treatment.Grabbing one of the offending soldiers from behind, David stuck out his foot and hurled the man backward, tripping him over his leg and throwing him to the ground.Quickly, as he turned around, he saw the other soldier in question turn toward him.David looked down at the wounded man that had been roughly handled.He could still see the painful expression on his face from the moments before.Enraged by this injustice, David curled his fist and drove it into the offending soldier’s jaw, knocking him to the ground.A few stalls away, Lt.Decker and Sgt.Ripley were discussing strategy when they saw two of their men being roughly handled by another soldier.Instinctively the lieutenant drew his pistol and ran toward David with Sgt.Ripley right behind him.From inside the stall, David heard the rush of footsteps racing toward him.He quickly spun around to defend himself when he heard the lieutenant’s voice.“Halt where you are, soldier, and present yourself,” Lt.Decker said as he approached David's stall.Seconds later David and Second Lt.Decker stood face to face.He immediately recognized David as well as the first lieutenant’s bars on David's shoulders.Realizing that David outranked him, he quickly holstered his pistol and tried to address him.David was in no mood for pleasantries, “What the HELL do you people think you're doing?” David yelled.The startled lieutenant stammered a moment, trying to find an answer.“I want an answer and I want it now, God dammit,” David yelled again, now even more inflamed at the lieutenant’s slow response.Before the lieutenant could answer, David continued, “Do you always make it a habit of roughing up the wounded boys who helped to save your sorry asses? These men are badly wounded.They are in pain, and the thanks they get is you morons inflicting further pain and suffering on them.I oughta have you assholes taken out and shot!”David's red face and piercing dark eyes told the story of his anger
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