—— Red Army Sniper ——86that were new to me: ‘operating theatre’, ‘onto the operating table’,
‘ward’, ‘injections’, and so on, not having yet experienced their
true significance. In the meantime, a sort of tall, white, cold metal
table on rubber wheels, with handles just like a stretcher had been
wheeled up to my stretcher and stationed alongside.
‘Move him carefully; it’s a stomach problem!’ someone ordered.
I remember that I tried to roll over from my stretcher, which
had been raised by the orderlies to the level of the table, but
I felt such a hellish pain on lifting myself that I immediately lost
consciousness...
I was floating in some kind of fog. Then it dispersed, and
suddenly a woman in white appeared beside me. Except that she
was not floating, but sitting beside me.
‘You’ve come to, son? Thank God for that!’
‘Who are you? And where am I?’
‘Don’t get up. Lie quietly. You’re in the Shock Ward after a
serious operation. I’m going to call the doctor over to you now.’
And she got up off the chair.
‘Wait a minute? What does “shock” mean? Why am I here?’
I was already scared by this unfamiliar and, it seemed to me,
frightening word.
‘Don’t get upset! It’s all behind you now. You should be glad!’
I was tormented by nausea. I could not feel any pain but I could
not move – as if tied to the bed. ‘Maybe I really am tied down.’
I wanted to move, but... I was falling somewhere.
I came to as the result of a loud conversation, from a familiar
male voice:
‘Well, where is my hero? I was told he’d woken up.’
Standing near me were several people in white gowns. One of
them was the tall man I had seen back then in the corridor.
‘Have I lost a lot of blood or something? And will my arm be
usable?’ I asked.
‘He doesn’t seem to understand what’s happened’ said the
surgeon and laughed cheerfully. ‘We are together today with this
dear man,’ and he indicated somebody standing behind him,