Medical Company
Victor recovered quickly, and by the afternoon he was already able to move around normally. Viscount Benjamin kept exclaiming, "Victor, you little monster, your recovery ability is so good, can you do it seven or eight times a night? Only the girls of our Northlands can handle you."
"Viscount Benjamin, I don't want to be told that by you. You have more Bitter Bamboo leaves and bandages on you than I do, and you still fought the whole game! You're more like a monster than me!" Victor retorted.
"Men from the Northlands are weathered by life and naturally have a strong physique," Viscount Benjamin said smugly.
"I'm going to visit our colleagues and subordinates now. Benjamin, please come along." Victor also wanted to see how the Second Legion's officer corps was doing, since he hadn't participated in the latter half of the battle.
"Let's go together then. I'd also like to visit your medical squadron with you."
Victor headed directly towards the medical squadron's base. The temporary base construction plan for the medical squadron was designed by Victor using Calculation Module. It was practical and had a good effect on improving work efficiency and maintaining order and hygiene at the base. Of course, the construction requirements were also very strict, and the transport squadron helped to transport many of the standard building modules for the base.
Victor led Viscount Benjamin into the camp and to a tent, the surgical tent at the far end of the medical camp.
When Victor lifted the linen curtain, the strong smell of alcohol stung his nostrils, and six whale oil lamps illuminated the space. The Chief Medical Officer Isaac, was using copper tweezers to pick up a wad of gauze that had been boiled in hot water. His linen smock was stained with both old and new blood, yet it remained incredibly clean.
This doctor was personally hired by Victor. He was highly skilled and could perform a variety of surgical procedures based on his experience. Later, Victor recruited him using modern medical theories. After the medical squadron was established, he served as the Chief Medical Officer, essentially the technical head of the medical squadron.
"The third batch of wounded has arrived." Before a medic could finish speaking, the sound of wheels crushing gravel could be heard from outside the tent.
"Proceed according to plan." Isaac tapped on the doorframe with his fingers. Twelve stretcher bearers immediately rushed into the rain, each with a different colored bandage wrapped around their left arm: red for critical, yellow for infection, and blue for minor injury. These were color-coded labels made from madder, turmeric, and indigo, the raw materials of which came from dye workshops in Two Rivers Territory.
Isaac grabbed a lime pen and scribbled furiously on the wooden board. His triage station was a slanted table designed by Victor himself, with twelve grooves corresponding to different treatment areas. "Those with barbs on their arrowheads, send them to the wound cleaning station number three! Those with high fever and delirium, send them to the isolation tent Number Five!" The shout pierced through the groans that rose and fell. Two apprentices were wiping the stretchers with vinegar, a disinfection procedure that had to be performed after every three batches of wounded soldiers were transferred.
"Are you sure you want to place the amputee in an upwind location?" the old army doctor Groom muttered, clutching his medicine jar. "According to traditional medical texts..."
"The stench of decay will spread with the wind." Victor lifted the lid of the boiling cauldron, steam condensing into droplets on his face. "I remember I already led you through a discussion; there's no need to cling to traditional medical texts anymore. Send the calendula ointment and Bitter Bamboo leaves to tent number two; there are three people with penetrating abdominal wounds there."
A commotion suddenly erupted outside the tent. Battalion Commander Raymond, dragging his injured right arm, burst in. "I want strong liquor! Not this women's herbal tea!"
"Give him a sedative with licorice." Isaac said without looking up. "There's only 7% alcohol left in the stock; prioritize using it for instrument sterilization." Victor noticed that he was using a percentage-based method—a modern concept he had taught on the sand table.
Benjamin kicked him directly, yelling, "Raymond, you've already lost your left arm and an eye. Do you want to lose your right arm too? Now listen to the doctor. If this happens again, you can forget about drinking for the rest of your life!"
Battalion Commander Raymond slunk away with his apprentice.
Victor entered the statistics tent and examined the parchment scrolls. Thirty-six wooden compartments were piled with inscribed wooden plaques: red plaques represented sepsis, black plaques recorded deaths, and white plaques represented returning soldiers. Hundreds of hemp ropes hung from the tent ceiling, tied with knots of different colors, forming a three-dimensional map of wounds.
"Through our efforts, the clean water supply rate has increased to 68%." Isaac appeared carrying a whale oil lamp, the light and shadow dancing on the wax plate in his hand. "With the addition of blood-replenishing herbs and Bitter Bamboo leaves, we have increased the amputation survival rate to 63%."
Victor stroked the newly improved hemostat—made by the blacksmith according to his drawings, with spiral patterns on the jaws to prevent tissue adhesion. "It's already very well done. As I've said before, we need to keep summarizing our experience to truly improve our skills. You've already saved many of our comrades."
After encouraging Chief Medical Officer Isaac, Victor left with Viscount Benjamin.
They found the officers' ward directly, and after pushing open the curtain, they entered the tent.
The tent was well-lit and well-ventilated, the air inside was not stuffy and there was no odor. The ground had been cleaned and sprinkled with lime.
There are 16 beds in total, and people are resting in them.
When one of them saw Victor and Benjamin, he immediately saluted and said, "Acting Legion Commander Victor, Legion Commander Benjamin, greetings."
"Rest now, Viscount Hawke. Is your left leg alright?" This man was none other than Viscount Hawke, the Regimental Commander the Fifth Regiment. He had fallen from his tank during the defensive battle and fractured his left leg, but he continued fighting until last night when he was sent to the medical squadron for treatment.
"I'm all better now. The doctor says I just need to rest and recover. Thank you for your concern, Lord Victor." Viscount Hawke spoke very respectfully to Victor.
Victor didn't say much, but patted Hawk on the shoulder, signaling him to continue resting.
Afterwards, Victor and Benjamin talked with the officers in the officers' ward to learn about their conditions and the causes of their injuries. The wounded here were all Company Commander or above, representing the middle and high-ranking commanders of the Second Legion.
Victor also promised in the officers' ward that he would report everyone's achievements and ensure that no one was left out.
They then visited the wounded soldiers' camp to offer their condolences. Although the facilities in the wounded soldiers' camp were not as good as those in the officers' wards, they were still clean and tidy, which played a great role in the recovery of the wounded and the prevention of infection, increasing the chances of the wounded soldiers recovering by at least 30%.
This visit also strengthened Viscount Benjamin's resolve to establish a medical squadron in Golden Pear Territory.
After visiting the wounded, Victor and Viscount Benjamin left the medical squadron.
After they returned to the Second Legion headquarters, they received orders from Count Colt to hold a post-war meeting that evening at the First Legion' base in Iron Birch Territory to tally the results of the battle and formulate a reward plan. Victor and Benjamin were both required to attend.