‘No,’ I whispered, unconsciously gripping my husband more tightly. ‘I’m dreaming. This is a dream!’ ‘Yes,’ Chris said softly. ‘But it�...�s a good dream, isn’t it?’ ‘You died! I saw you die on the TV!’ I said, crying. He didn’t reply, he just held me close while I sobbed helplessly against his shoulder. When I finally calmed down some, he loosened his hold. ‘How can this be?’ I asked. He smiled at me and kissed me again. ‘The mind can do amazing, wonderful things. You needed, more than anything,. You’ll need it, because there are also plenty of injured civilians and the regular docs can’t handle ‘em all,” the regimental XO informed us in very blunt language.“Yes, ma’am,” we all answered her.What else was there to do? I went back to work for now, though in better spirits. The Battle of Winston-Salem might be over, but plenty of folks still needed suturing, blood pressure, fever, pulse, all those things still needed handling. Morphine drips still had to be replaced. Yes, it was a grueling. More

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