Chapter 9

Shortly after Colonel Montgomery disappeared, a distinctive roar could be heard. Old spacers knew it for what it was. There was a ship coming into the landing space. There were two incoming ships. Both of them were FN Combat Landing Craft.

Everyone could see the approaching ships. Sergeant Major Tucker watched as they approached. “Well, Mr. Sawyer, THAT is Operation Dunkirk. It was the best we could do with the time we had available. And those Captains have put their commissions on the line. But we all knew this going in, which will probably cost us our jobs. In Colonel Montgomery’s case, maybe his life.”

At first, there was a rush of miners heading towards the boarding access. But order was restored, and they were directed to two of the ships. The third ship was designated as the medical ship. The only people allowed to board were the wounded.

Martha and I helped with this. We carried stretchers and assisted the walking wounded to the hatch. Where ship’s crewmembers took charge. It was a long, slow, and heart-breaking process. To a man, the wounded Marines, regardless of their wounds, refused to be put on board before all of the civilian wounded were boarded.

In some cases, they refused to leave outright, demanding that they be given a weapon and returned to the line. Martha was forced to dose one Marine to unconsciousness to get him on board. He was missing both his legs.

Eventually, we were able to get everybody on board. I looked over at Martha. She was sitting with her back to a wall, her eyes closed. I thought she might have passed out from exhaustion. I was considering the best way to get her on board when Sergeant Major Tucker showed up.

“Good to see you, Sergeant Major. Could you help me get Martha on board? I’m afraid she’s a bit worn out from all the doings going on.”

“No Problem, Sergeant.” He replied.

Together we got her on her feet and headed into the transport. At first, she was OK with this, but as she woke up and saw where we were heading, she started to resist. “No, Gideon, there’s more that needs to be done. I’m not finished yet.”

“Settled down, honey. We’ve got all of them on board, all except you. Once you’re safe, they’ll be able to lift, and you’ll be safe. The job is done honey, time for some shut-eye.”

This seemed to settle her down. She relaxed and turned into a ragdoll. We handed her over to a crewman, who put her on a stretcher that was standing by. I looked him in the eye, “Take care of her, mate. She’s important to me and a lot of others.”

He grinned at me, “No worries, Mate. She’s already designated special cargo.” He then looked behind me to Sergeant Major Tucker and winked.

Before I could do anything, I was grabbed from behind, my arms pinned to my sides. “Colonel’s orders, Sergeant.” I was picked up off my feet and carried into the ship. The hatch and then airlock doors closed while I was being put on the the other gurney. The medic standing by said, “Beddy bye time Sarge.” and inserted a needle into my arm.

In less time than it took to describe it, I was out of it.

When I came too, we had already lifted and were well on our way. Sergeant Major Tucker was sitting between myself and Martha in the next bed.