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"
Are
you
unwounded
?
"
"
We
are
both
wounded
a
little
.
"
"
Can
Gordini
drive
?
"
"
I
don
’
t
think
so
.
"
They
dropped
me
once
more
before
we
reached
the
post
.
"
You
sons
of
bitches
,
"
I
said
.
"
I
am
sorry
,
Tenente
,
"
Manera
said
.
"
We
won
’
t
drop
you
again
.
"
Outside
the
post
a
great
many
of
us
lay
on
the
ground
in
the
dark
.
They
carried
wounded
in
and
brought
them
out
.
I
could
see
the
light
come
out
from
the
dressing
station
when
the
curtain
opened
and
they
brought
some
one
in
or
out
.
The
dead
were
off
to
one
side
.
The
doctors
were
working
with
their
sleeves
up
to
their
shoulders
and
were
red
as
butchers
.
There
were
not
enough
stretchers
.
Some
of
the
wounded
were
noisy
but
most
were
quiet
.
The
wind
blew
the
leaves
in
the
bower
over
the
door
of
the
dressing
station
and
the
night
was
getting
cold
.
Stretcher
-
bearers
came
in
all
the
time
,
put
their
stretchers
down
,
unloaded
them
and
went
away
.
As
soon
as
I
got
to
the
dressing
station
Manera
brought
a
medical
sergeant
out
and
he
put
bandages
on
both
my
legs
.
He
said
there
was
so
much
dirt
blown
into
the
wound
that
there
had
not
been
much
hemorrhage
.
They
would
take
me
as
soon
as
possible
.
He
went
back
inside
.
Gordini
could
not
drive
,
Manera
said
.
His
shoulder
was
smashed
and
his
head
was
hurt
.
He
had
not
felt
bad
but
now
the
shoulder
had
stiffened
.
He
was
sitting
up
beside
one
of
the
brick
walls
.
Manera
and
Gavuzzi
each
went
off
with
a
load
of
wounded
.
They
could
drive
all
right
.
The
British
had
come
with
three
ambulances
and
they
had
two
men
on
each
ambulance
.
One
of
their
drivers
came
over
to
me
,
brought
by
Gordini
who
looked
very
white
and
sick
.
The
Britisher
leaned
over
.
"
Are
you
hit
badly
?
"
he
asked
.
He
was
a
tall
man
and
wore
steel
-
rimmed
spectacles
.
