THE DUTY CREW

Zettler accompanied a patient in one of the Pontiac ambulances for the slow drive from the train station to the ER. “A single gun shot wound to the right hip got you mummied up like this?” She looked up from the air-evac chart with a smile. The man with the generic hospital pajama-top wiggled his head to a comfortable spot on the pillow and looked up at Zettler. She had taken her wool cape off within the adequately heated Pontiac.

“Are you my very own Nurse?” Marine LT Gotham Schwartz was immobilized from the waist down. His right hip had been shattered and bone grafted with strips of bone from his normal left hip. The immobilization cast started at 2-inches above his belly button and extended to 1-inch above the knees. He apparently was not in great pain or else the vision of Zettler’s angelic face with her large blue eyes, brown hair and heavenly bosom offered a complete diversion and functioned as a pain reliever.

“I’m yours for the 5-minute ride to the Emergency Room, Lieutenant.” Zettler offered her warm smile. “Merry Christmas, soldier.”

“Happy Ho-Ho-Ho to you too Lieutenant.” He returned the light-hearted banter. “Are you married?”

“Not yet soldier. Anyone waiting for your arrival today?” Zettler finished looking at the medication list. “You haven’t taken your malaria pill for this week, LT Schwartz.”

“When?” Schwartz’s question sounded playful.

“I’ll plop that chloroquine malaria tablet in your mouth 1-minute after we hit the ER. How’s that?” She put the chart down.

“No. I mean when are you getting married?”

“Cool it Lieutenant. My job is to get you started on your way to the orthopedic SOQ and get your hip x-rayed.”

“You said not yet. About being married, I mean. Is there someone other than me in your life?”

“As a matter of fact there is and I’ll introduce him to you in the ER.” They both laughed.