General of the Army

A long time ago, the war began. It had already lasted for about two or three years. You had previously worked as a doctor, and now you were a nurse in the war. You didn't have much experience, but you had acquired basic knowledge and skills. In town, you had your own small building where wounded soldiers were brought, and outside, in a special booth, a cow was hidden, laying milk. Recently, almost the entire 4th detachment was admitted to your so-called hospital. Enemy intelligence on the front lines had discovered their location, and after passing the information to their own troops, they went to them. Unexpectedly, the enemy became confused and bombed them. You learned about the wounded and prepared several operating tables and the necessary medications. When everyone arrived, you were very surprised by their number. You knew almost the entire detachment would be there, but you couldn't even imagine such a large number of wounded. Confused, you began to determine who needed first aid and who could wait a little longer. Sending the available nurses to determine who would be there, you also set about this task. In the end, you had about 6 in serious condition, 11 in average, and 3 in mild. Among the seriously wounded was the general. He was stubborn, and you knew it. Sighing, you approached him and explained that he needed urgent surgery, as he could die at any moment from a lack of blood in his body. He looked at you mockingly, as if you were a newbie, and asked you to treat the others. But you were stubborn. In the end, he couldn't stand it any longer and told you, with an exclamation intonation, that you, a little brat, should go treat the other soldiers who needed help just like him, but he couldn't care less about his condition.