Triage 2009

Just a short ride down the National Highway but out of sight to most of us due to a stubborn fog lies a scene reminiscent of M.A.S.H just after the helicopters have landed.

The casualties are laid out under the tents as the surgical teams quickly make the rounds deciding each fate. Among the most severe cases presenting is an old familiar warrior and the team sadly concludes that hope is lost. The C.O., Major General Mo "Big Car" Culture is left behind as terminal and the group moves on hoping to save others. A dreadful loss.

Loosely grouped for lack of space around a snack machine in the corridor is a bevy of cooks, clerks and storekeepers suffering from acute shell shock. They are all from Company C, better known as One Big Red Hole, the Consumer Company ,and are referred on to the Psych Unit but the feeling is they will never be the same. The team moves on feeling despondent about all the waste.

Way back in one tent a nerdy bunch from the Signal Corp lie muttering incoherently in the code of their strange language of bytes, bits and daemons. Unable to determine the degree of distress because of communication failure the surgeons prescribe a greatly reduced level of future assignment.
This produces a temporary shock throughout the group as they lapse briefly into reality and see the Web of their lives in tatters and a future of typewriters and pencils.

At last a hopeful note. These can be saved! The surgeons gear up for action and the area is intense with anticipation for a unit of heavy equipment operators show little damage. The prioritization has paid off. This bunch will be up on the rails again and when the trains leave the station will be headed for some much needed R&R.

Oh, no, another disaster. This is a horrible mess. Blood on the floor, gaping wounds abound. An outfit made up of SeaBees and Army Corp of Engineers were careless and hit a big landmine. They are in terrible shape. These stalwart barracks builders may never build again in the same way. Time will tell but the prognosis is bleak. The senior medics all agree that no time should be wasted on these poor souls and they are abandoned.

With General " Big Car" Culture diagnosed as terminal the boys from the Motor Pool have fallen into despair and languish about. The Chaplains try to raise spirits by counseling good cheer and providing pamphlets on Animal Husbandry and Buggy Construction from a nearby Amish settlement.

Now, in the distance, the sound of incoming choppers is detected. Although exhausted from the recent labors the medical teams summon up reserves to face the future. How many this time? Will we lose more irreplaceable troops? A silent prayer spreads among them that the carnage is near an end and above all, that the paymaster battalion is not aboard.