In a hospital tent where the injured are sent there’s never enough hours in the day .

There’s no rest for the wicked even less for the good and there’s always a high price to pay .

Since war had begun the casualties come in a steady flow at the emergency door .


No one reimburses the doctors and nurses for all the hours they spend on the floor .

Waves of apprehension built a bridge through the tension as the incoming wounded arrived .

For carried on stretchers from the red cross ambulances are some soldiers barely alive .

Pack And swab,
Oh dear God it’s a hell of a job ,
with no rest for the medical crew .

Some were chosen to survive the explosion yet the operation they never saw through .

By Paul McCann