Chapter 2

The next morning Rick awakened to find the sleeping bag empty. Susan was already up and about. The tarp covering the cave mouth had been removed and the gasoline lantern had been extinguished. Cans of food had been gathered and something that smelled very good was cooking on the gasoline stove. Rick just watched Susan move around. In just a few moments she ladled the food into two mess kits and came over to awaken him. She smiled warmly when she saw him watching her and gave him one of them.

Sitting down beside him on the edge of the sleeping bag she slowly began to eat. In spite of trying to eat very slowly, it was no good. Suddenly she jumped to her feet, ran to the mouth of the cave and vomited up everything she had just eaten. Looking very chagrined she returned to the sleeping bag, sat down, took a nutrition bar and very slowly and carefully ate it.

When he finished the food on his plate, she returned to the stove and turned it off completely. Bringing the pot back, she emptied it into Rick's mess kit. "I'm sorry, Rick," she said sorrowfully. "I thought I could hold some solid food, but I guess I was too ambitious. I'm sorry you saw it. And I apologize for ruining your breakfast." Her face was crestfallen as she spoke.

But then she brightened and said, "Rick, there are all kinds of military things back in the cave. I got some out, but I think there's a lot more we could use if I only knew what they are for and how to use them."

For the first time Rick realized that there was a light machine gun now emplaced at the mouth of the cave. Rocks had been carefully piled around to provide some concealment and some protection for the gunner. The location she had chosen was perfect, providing the broadest possible field of fire. Moreover, she had done it all quietly so as not to awaken him and managed to do it in spite of her enfeebled condition.

"Susan, you are unbelievable! But I thought nurses were supposed to be noncombatant? That machine gun looks pretty 'combatant' to me!"

Opening her fatigue jacket, his heart sank as he saw the whip cuts across her body. He motioned for her to come closer to him and she did. "I thought we were, too, Rick," she said softly. "But I've been used and abused to such a degree I've become a combatant. Rick, what do I do with the rest of this stuff?"

"Right now you do nothing!" he exclaimed. "Susan, I'm so sorry. You operated on me like the skilled surgeon you are. Meanwhile, I knew that you were sliced to ribbons, but I didn't do a damned thing about it. Lieutenant, lie down on the sleeping bag," he ordered as he opened up the zipper and spread it out flat on the cave floor.

Susan looked at him with an unreadable expression on her face, but then did as he asked. Taking off the combat jacket she lay face down on the sleeping bag. Remembering how she had cleaned his wound, he decided that he had to do the same thing for her. Retrieving the large first-aid kit he found the preoperative cleaner and the surgical sponges. Very carefully he started to clean out the lacerations on her back. As he worked he realized how bad the cuts were. Moreover, each cut now appeared to be infected along its entire length. Although they had all scabbed over, he began to scrub anyway. She involuntarily winced and he knew that the pain must be excruciating, but still she made no sound.

Carefully he kept at it, scrubbing each cut from end to end. As he removed the dirt, he felt like kicking himself. The dirt was probably the primary source of the infection and her resulting fever. The wounds should have been completely cleaned out much sooner. This time he did a good job and scrubbed them clean. Then he put more of the anaesthetic ointment on each cut after carefully sprinkling antibiotic powder into the cuts. Finally he put a light dressing over each one to keep any new dirt out.

When he asked her to turn over, she did. Again he found himself looking into her beautiful blue eyes, now filled with tears. Obviously the pain had been terrible as he had worked. Suddenly it occurred to him that he was looking at a nude woman. He became aware of the small tight patch of curly golden pubic hair below her emaciated body.

She looked at him as he looked at her body. "It's really pretty ugly, isn't it?" she asked softly.

"What is?" he replied.

"My body. It's the sorriest excuse for a female body you've ever seen. Rick, thank you. I know how hard it is to do what you are doing. It's really terrible to have to work on an ugly body, and they don't get any uglier than mine. Thank you for not laughing — or vomiting. Either reaction — or both — would be entirely appropriate.

"Rick, I think a couple of the ones in front are the worst. Particularly the one across my breasts — or where they used to be. It's pretty bad with infection. Why don't you let me do them myself? You already did the hard ones on my back that I couldn't reach. But I can reach these just fine. And you have to be getting sick just looking at me!"

Rick came closer to crying at that instant than he had since he was six years old. This girl who had nursed him was offering to clean her own terrible wounds — an extremely painful and nearly impossible process — just so he wouldn't have to look at them.

"Lieutenant, you are the bravest person I have ever met — and possibly the dumbest! Now just lie back. I found something for you to bite on. I know it hurts like hell." Suddenly Rick's face brightened and he exclaimed, "Wait a minute! How about me giving you a couple of shots of morphine while I clean you up?"

"Thank you, Major," Sue replied warmly, "but I would rather you didn't. I will take something to bite down on, though." He gave her a strip of leather he had cut off a bag in the back of the cave. She bit down on it, made a face, and then bit down again. She nodded her head indicating she was ready and he began to clean her wounds.

The worst cut was indeed the one across her breasts. Where it went over her left breast, he realized it was almost half-an-inch deep. After opening the cut he watched blood flowing down her side as he scrubbed all the dirt out of the deep cut. He followed the same procedure he had on her back. He scrubbed out the cut, put on antibiotics, then ointment, and finally a bandage. He was shocked at how quickly the bandage across her breasts became blood-soaked. Although he had the plasma bottle set up hanging from a forked stick, he didn't know what to do next.

Susan took the needle from him and, to his amazement, managed to find a vein in her left arm. Carefully, she inserted it using her right hand. When it was fully in place, she fainted. Rick had watched the process so he released the clamp on the bottle and let the plasma flow. When it was drained he carefully removed the needle. Positioning her in the sleeping bag, he climbed in beside her. In just a moment he was also asleep.

The next days were spent preparing to defend the cave. Susan's fever was reduced but her temperature was still not back to normal. Nevertheless, she positioned a large number of Claymore mines around the approaches to the cave, making trip after trip in spite of her weakened condition.

Rick was amused. She had looked for trousers but couldn't find any. Similarly, although there were several pairs of combat boots, there were none nearly small enough to fit her dainty feet. She told him that American women's boots were highly prized by the North Vietnamese because only American women had feet small enough for their boots to fit the guards' feet.

Susan set up a number of mines with trip-wire detonators and others that would be fired from the cave. She was meticulous about concealing the detonator wires.

Their cave overlooked a roadway leading to the prison camp and commanded a road bridge over a small gorge. Rick showed her how to apply C-3 plastic explosive to a bridge and how to wire in the detonators. As he watched, she scrambled around the structure. Suddenly he wondered if he had lost his mind. Although he had a leg wound, he could move around and realized he should. Instead, their perimeter defenses were being installed by a girl who was lacerated, feverish, and emaciated.

Slowly but surely all the munitions in the cave except for the small-arms ammunition were sited. Although they had a radio, it didn't work. Rick suspected that it just needed fresh batteries.

Finally, Susan made her way back to the cave and just collapsed. Smiling at him she pretended to complain, "I'm going back to the OR! There's no heavy lifting. Rick, I'm sorry I'm so badly out of shape."

He had regularly checked her over and was keeping his fingers crossed. It was clear even to his untrained eye that she was going to have scars across her body from the whip marks. He only hoped the Navy had skilled plastic surgeons who could put her back together again.

Looking at her, he gave her a full-bearded smile. She just smiled back, then unbuttoned her combat jacket exposing her entire body. Rick suddenly realized she was starting to look more like a woman again and less like a skeleton. Reaching out, he felt her chest. Now he could even feel a slight rounding where her breasts should have been and felt her nipple harden under his rough fingers.

Since there had been no chance to wash he knew that he stank to high heaven. Now his beard was only a little darker than Susan's hair. While his hair was brown with gold flecks, hers still was liquid gold in spite of all the dirt. He was startled to realize that her pubic hair almost exactly matched the color of the hair on his head.

Shaking his head to try to quell his sexual thoughts, he asked, "Have you seen any batteries back there, by any chance? I think our radio would work if the damned batteries weren't dead. As it is our evacuation chopper is nearly two weeks overdue."

Susan got back on her feet and went to the back of the cave. After rummaging around in several containers she came back with two handsful of batteries. "Are these the right size? And do I have enough?"