My years as a menswear boss

In 1879, the Battle of Maiwand.

John Watson didn't touch the ground. He ran around among the wounded. As an assistant medical doctor, he was responsible for bandaging the wounded.

"He must amputate as soon as possible!" Watson checked the soldiers on the stretcher, and he immediately had the wounded carried to the simple operating room.

Not far away, the sound of shells was continuous, the battlefield was filled with gunpowder smoke, and a life died every second.

Soldiers on both sides were exhausted, and the remains of their comrades lay at their feet.

As a shell hit, the leading soldier loudly reminded his comrades that in the next second he was hit in the heart by a bullet and closed his eyes forever.

The crude operating room was blasted open, revealing the wounded crowded together inside, this is a frontline unit.There is little hope of surviving, and as long as he survives, he will receive the highest honor.

"Back off! Back off!" roared the captain hoarsely, firing a bullet as he spoke.

All the soldiers began to retreat, and the wounded who were still able to move supported each other to leave, while those who could not get up struggled with their eyes wide open and chose to end their lives with the last bullet.They would rather die than be captured.

"Damn Gaji!" spat the soldier who lost one eye, cursing inwardly through gritted teeth.

Watson carried a soldier with a broken leg to the safe line of defense. Bullets flew past his ears, and another life disappeared beside him.

"boom--"

Watson watched as a flower of blood smeared on the chest of the soldier he helped, completely lifeless.He quickly put down the dead comrade in arms and ran forward.

"boom--"

This time the bullet hit himself, and Watson clutched his bleeding shoulder. His shoulder blade might have been shattered.

It even hurt the artery below the collarbone. His eyes became darker and darker, and he fell to the ground the next moment. The severe pain kept him conscious.

'Am I going to be captured? '

Thinking of the cruel means of the Gaji people, Watson decided to take out (the wooden warehouse) to kill himself. He used his good arm to feel for the (wooden warehouse) on his body.

Before he could take it out, he was dragged up from the ground and hung up on the horse.

The hard saddle poked his stomach, and Watson couldn't help but vomited out. The rider noticed his discomfort and kindly turned him over.

The horse carried the two men back to the British position. Watson was unloaded, and he passed out before he could see his benefactor clearly.

When he woke up again, he found that he was being sent to the hospital behind Boshur.

"Sir, do you need some water?" The nun handed over an army-green marching water bottle.

Watson's throat was so swollen that he couldn't speak, he could only gesture with his hands, and the wound was torn during the gesture, which almost made him pass out from the pain.

The nun immediately noticed the abnormality. Her medical knowledge was limited, so she quickly called the doctor.

"Oh, God, he may have contracted an epidemic while he was tossing around." The doctor said with a heavy face, "The wound infection worsened, plus typhoid fever. The condition of the wounded is not optimistic."

The doctor was not very optimistic about the poor army doctor's hope of survival, but he still separated the typhoid Watson from the soldiers who were not infected, and tried to treat him as much as possible.

Watson closed his eyes in despair. He was thinking, is there a more miserable living person in the world than him?Among all the wounded, he had typhoid fever.

At first, some kind-hearted nuns brought food and water, but Watson’s breath became weaker day by day, and a batch of wounded were sent to the battlefield, and the hospital’s manpower became more and more tense. One person can be used as ten people, and Watson’s food came The time is getting less and less punctual, and sometimes even a meal is missed.

Watson stretched out his skinny arms to touch the jug on the table, and poured the last sip of water in it into his mouth.

He lay on the bed, opened his lifeless eyes, 'am I going to die? '

'They have given up on me. '

Watson woke up less and less. If his chest was not still heaving, he might have been sent to the morgue by the nuns.

Just when Watson thought he was going back to the embrace of God, a pair of cool hands opened his mouth and poured the concoction so bitter that it made people want to vomit.

After being drugged for several days in a row, Watson's consciousness gradually recovered, until one day he could open his eyes.

"You're awake~" A cheerful young voice came from next to my ear.

Watson turned his head slowly, and saw a small face as black as the bottom of a pot.

"Oh!"

Jiqiu saw that Watson was startled, and showed a big smile. She pointed to her face, "This is ointment. My face was smoked by stray bullets on the battlefield. The doctor gave me a medicine." .”

Watson finally felt relieved. He struggled to sit up, but he couldn't.

Jiqiu stepped forward and easily helped the skinny Watson up. She was holding a plate of chicken breast, "Do you want something to eat?"

Watson nodded, watching the person across from him patiently tear chicken breasts into strips and feed them to him.

It was the first time in his memory that he was being fed, and he felt a little embarrassed.

"Have you eaten?" Watson tried to find a topic to ease the atmosphere in the small room.

"Me? I've eaten it!" The crisp voice was like a bird outside the window, full of vitality, which made people feel at ease.

After Watson was full, he felt that his body was no longer as weak as before. "What's your name?"

"Gary."

"Are you an adult?"

"Adult."

Watson glanced suspiciously at the skinny boy, and he said patiently, "You should grow up under the care of your family at your age. The battlefield is too dangerous for a child like you. How sad your mother would be if you died ah."

He learned that some poor families concealed the real age of their children and sent their underage children to the battlefield for food rations.

Jiqiu listened to the long-lost Watson card nagging, she subconsciously covered her ears, "I'm really an adult!"

Watson sighed. He looked at the stubborn child. Since he was already in the hospital, it was a big deal for him to keep an eye on him and prevent the child from sneaking onto the battlefield to die.

Under the care of Jiqiu, Watson recovered day by day. With the support of the teenager, he went to the small garden of the hospital to bask in the sun.

Watson noticed that the young man had a pair of beautiful blue eyes, and he said with a hint of admiration, "Your eyes are so beautiful, clear and full of vitality."

Jiqiu buttoned his face covered with black mud, "Oh, thank you for the compliment."

"Do you have any relatives?"

Jiqiu shook his head honestly, "I'm an orphan."

'No wonder. Watson touched the boy's head affectionately, and he was inspired to have a fatherly heart, "When the war is over, you can come home with me, and I will send you to study."

"I don't like reading."

"Reading is very interesting. Knowledge is the most precious wealth." Watson rubbed the boy's head vigorously.

Watson's recovery was a miracle in the eyes of the doctor. He said inconceivably, "You are the first person I have ever seen who survived such a serious illness."

"Maybe God doesn't want to see me." Watson smiled easily.

Even so, the doctor decided that he was no longer fit to stay on the battlefield.

A week later, Watson will be sent home on the "Orentez", and he is packing his belongings in his room.

"Gary, come back with me, I've already told the colonel about your falsified age."

Watson said with a smile, he was proud of winning the bear kid in one high school, "Your repatriation letter will be delivered in two days."

"Ah, you are so annoying." Jiqiu said loudly, and she rolled back and forth on the bed.

Three days later, Watson got the colonel's reply, and he couldn't wait to open it to read.

Dear Watson:

When I received the letter, I immediately searched the soldiers in my camp, and found no child named Gary.

Did you remember it wrong, or the kid didn't tell you his real name.But no matter what, such a small child should not stay on the battlefield. I give you permission to take him back home.If anyone is held accountable, say it was my order.

—Colonel Chris.

After Watson finished reading the letter, he hurried back to his isolation ward and found that the bed opposite was neat and tidy, without any trace left behind.

He staggered out to find the nun in charge, "Did you see Gary?!"

"Gary?" Sister Teresa looked puzzled, she looked at the anxious man, "This is not my patient, maybe you can ask someone else."

"No, he's in an isolation room with me, you've seen him before!"

Watson interrupted her. This was probably the most rude thing he ever did, "For a child who is about this tall, his face was injured by the blast and covered with black medicine, which is very obvious!"

Teresa looked at Watson who was gesticulating wildly, and subconsciously took a step back. She quickly thought of her responsibilities as a nun, and said patiently, "Mr. Watson, you have always lived in the isolation room by yourself. .”

She sighed silently in her heart, "Poor military doctor, the brutal and inhumane war caused him to have hysteria, and I don't know if he can recover." '

"No, it's impossible..." Watson shook his head blankly. He thought of the day he was hit by a bullet, and someone threw him on horseback and brought him back to the camp. "Do you still remember who took me from the battlefield? Did you get rescued?"

Teresa recalled that she was very impressed with the military doctor, "Didn't you climb on the horse yourself and let the horse carry you back to the position? At that time, many people lamented your luck. You happened to find the horse belt I'm waiting for you to come back."

"No, I'm not the only one on the horse." Watson denied again.

Teresa heard a wounded man calling her not far away, "Sorry, I still have things to do. But you were really brought back by the horse, and many people saw the miraculous scene that day. You can find another Soldiers to testify on this."

Watson recalled the doubts in his mind. No wonder no one showed surprise when Gary helped him for a walk.He thought that everyone knew that the teenager's face was injured by the blast, and he was treated with plaster.

'Does Gary really exist? '

'Is he a figment of my imagination? '

'It can be all so real. '

Watson returned to England with a mind full of unsolved mysteries. He moved into 221B Baker Street through a small introduction, and had a smart and weird roommate.

During his chat, he told his roommate Holmes about the adventures he encountered in Boshur Hospital.

"Holmes, that child feels so real to me. I can't accept that it's just a fantasy of mine."

Standing by the window, Holmes was playing the violin. He said to the window, "Sometimes you should trust your first instincts more, my friend."

Watson lived an ordinary life in London. He accompanied Holmes through many cases, and he kept that black-faced boy in his heart.

Until one day, a ragged teenager appeared in 221B, "he" raised his dirty face, "I think this is your thing, Mr. Watson."

Those clear blue eyes were exactly the same as the eyes in the sun that day.

作者有话要说：趁着没人，我悄悄发一章or2感谢在2021-12-1123:59:19~2021-12-1202:49:05期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angels of irrigation nutrient solution: 100 bottles of yulianxin; 28 bottles of Fu Tingli;

aptx4869, 20 bottles of Xiao Xiaoxiao; 364085391 bottles;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!