"I'm not O'Green!"
Habrey's cheeks suddenly bulged, like an angry toad. He hated others the most saying that he was Oglin. In fact, he firmly believed that he was a serious human being, because the old couple who picked him up had always instilled him in this way. Although they lived in the garbage dump, it did not affect their purity as humans. It was also because of their teaching that Habrey had a kind character that was completely inconsistent with his physique.
During this period, Habrey was very worried. He was very worried about his adoptive parents because they were very old and would something happen if they were not taken care of without him for such a long time.
Fortunately, Hashet often said that the battle was almost over, and Habrey was feeling better. He also thought that after the war, he would use the "subsidy" he had accumulated during this period - in fact, was a saved ration stick and some small spoils to buy a pair of mechanical auxiliary legs for his adoptive father, because he injured his knees when he was picking up scatters in the past and was somewhat inconvenient to move.
"Okay, okay, I know."
After a while of hard work, Habrey finally defeated his fear. The doctor cut open his sleeve with scissors and found a small blood-stained hole in his furry arm.
"Well, a small problem, it's also a big problem for you."
Gotabilon said, poking his wound while Habrey shivered in pain.
"It seems that you were injured by a shrapnel, and you took a little flesh off and didn't hurt your bones or blood vessels."
As he said that, he used a cotton swab dipped in a plate next to him to apply some disinfectant to the wound, then took out some white powder from the box, poured it onto the wound, pressed the gauze pad onto the hole, and secured the dressing in place with half a dozen tape.
"Maybe you didn't realize that there was a hole in you before? I guess your feeling will be back soon. There is a high probability that you will find that the wound hurts like an egg being cut off, so it is not ruled out that your internal organs may have been injured. I don't have equipment to hold on here, so it's best if you have to sit here for half an hour and I'll observe it."
Then he turned to look at Hayes.
"Lucky Hayes, do you have painkillers?"
Lucky Hayes, everyone gave him a nickname, but Hayes never felt that he had any good luck.
"Four vials, in my medical kit."
"Okay, let me see."
When the medical officer saw Hayes hesitating, he stretched out his hand to signal.
"Tool kit inspection, as a company medical officer, my job is to make sure you are fully equipped."
"Uncle Hashett said you will take our first aid supplies."
He said so, but Hayes picked up the slender rectangular medical bag from his belt and handed it over.
The doctor opened the metal buckle on the medical bag and flipped the things inside.
"Well, that old thing Hashet does know a lot, so he should have told you that my needs are bigger than yours, especially in this damn underground, the number of wounded people was ten times that of last week, and I will have to requisition some of your first aids."
"But you can't get stuff in my medical bag."
Hayes said angrily.
"The regulations say--"
“The rule says a lot.”
Gotabilon said, taking something out of the medical bag and returning the bag to Hayes.
"But we are all sure that no matter which genius writes, we won't bother to find out whether they can work in practice. No matter what, I leave half of it for you. Only by concentrating medical resources can you save more people. I believe you can understand this."
Of course Hayes understood, so he just complained that he knew very well how serious the shortage of drugs in field hospitals was.
"But if I'm seriously injured-"
"Then you need a medic, just scream and I'll run over."
Hayes shook his head helplessly, and then said to Habrey:
"I'll prepare some food. You can let the doctor observe it here. After you get it, go to the camp department to find me."
He then left the field hospital and came to a temporary camp belonging to their company.
Removing the rag, a warm air mixed with the smell of smoke and old sweat came. Hayes walked past several comrades playing dice on the wooden board, and then walked into the temporary kitchen behind. Inside, you could see two rows of rusty metal bunks arranged on both sides of the iron stove in the center of the camp. Some of the three companies sat there chatting, eating or cleaning their weapons, and some people gathered together in groups of three to suck some powder into their noses or lick a colorful one.
The colorful chips and high-intensity underground combat have made many soldiers rely on "special drugs", but Hashet has always warned Hays to keep him away from this kind of thing. (Anti-complaints: Drug abuse is very common in the Astral Army. There are a lot of descriptions in the relevant content of the Political Commissar Kane. Don't imagine the Astral Army as a surreal armed force that everyone is highly conscious. The background of the Imperial Army is basically feudal or semi-feudal army. Occasionally, some special things such as Krieg are not representative)
The niches cut out from the rocks of the crumbling shelves and the rocks on the walls are filled with cleaned equipment, and you can see laser gun power packs, fragmented grenades, dry food boxes, shotgun bullets, bayonets and knives of various shapes and sizes, shovels, picks, hand axes, lanterns, uniforms, helmets, bulletproof vests, and even a burnt metal eagle emblem, which may have come from some burned chapel.
This is also a very strange point. It seems that these traitors are also worshiping the emperor. Are they expecting redemption?
But the priests claimed that they had been abandoned by the Emperor.
"Ah, lucky Hayes."
A sergeant saw Hayes and smiled and pushed away the canvas backpack to make room for him to walk by. A smile flashed in the red frame's eyes.
"Have you finished your work? Want some wine? I have some brewed ones."
Then he turned around and looked at a broken pot of wine shakingly on a small stove next to him, took out a pair of enamel cups and filled the cups with steaming black liquid.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content later! "Try it, our special beetle burnt, it is good and hot. Although it means using the underground beetles and some powdered tubers instead of real wine-making, it is already good. After all, it is difficult for the God Emperor to find any real material in this hell, even if we all know that He can create miracles... To make it more exciting, I mixed one-tenth of the dose of stimulating powder, and by the way, its taste is amazing."
Hayes nodded with a smile, took the cup handed over by the other party and walked aside. He didn't plan to drink it, but he knew that Uncle Hashet liked this "alcoholic drink", so he put it aside and waited for the other party to come back.
He sat on a stool made of unknown debris, lit the remaining fuel with a lighter, then put the dark pot on the bonfire, then picked up the kettle and poured the remaining water in.
While waiting for the water to boil, he stretched out his hands to feel the rare residual heat, but the underground was not completely unhelpful, at least he didn't have to endure the biting cold wind on the surface of this planet.
Staring at the flames, Hayes had an illusion in a trance, as if the dead people appeared next to him, Fitz, Jung...
They were like the past, chatting and laughing with everyone to prepare those undelicious foods. Suddenly, the flames pounded, and Hays blinked. There was no one around him. The water was boiling. He stood up silently, and in an almost empty box, he poured out the last bag of corpse starch, poured a quarter into the pot, and stirred it with a wooden stick like a machine.
Chapter completed!