Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 18 This Priest Isn't So Cold 4
A whole bucket of warm water was brought over.

“Father Pugin, are you thirsty? Please have this.” Lieutenant Colonel Kazman handed over a military water bottle, which Qin Hao waved away.

The black-haired pastor solemnly held his credentials high above his head like a sacred object, and then, in front of everyone, he actually submerged them directly in water.

? ? ? ! ! !
What are you doing?!
Under everyone's astonished gaze, Qin Hao pinched a corner of the ID card and rubbed it a couple of times. Then he filled a small cup with warm water, picked up the wounded man in front of him, and fed him the water little by little to his chapped lips.

The feverish wounded soldier was already in a semi-conscious state, only reflexively moving his lips.

After feeding the wounded soldier a cup of water, the black-haired priest's white shirt was stained with blood from the wounded soldier. But he then got up, picked up the cup, and carried another wounded soldier.

The veteran standing nearby was stunned. After a long while, he bent down and asked in a low voice, "Father, are you... are you feeding holy water to the wounded?"

Qin Hao didn't answer, but tilted his head and handed him another cup. "Pavka, come and help. Give this water to each wounded soldier, one cup for each person. The seriously wounded should drink more."

"Yes, Father."

At this moment, the young medic wiped away his tears. Although he was puzzled, he picked up a cup to help and asked, "What should we do next, Father?"

"Have a few people keep watch, and if anything changes, shout for us to come over." After saying this, Qin Hao began to re-bandage the other wounded, ignoring everyone else.

Lieutenant Colonel Kazman's orders were completely ignored. Due to the other party's powerful background, he dared not say anything for the time being, so he could only snort and return to his command post with a dark face.

Night falls, inside the command post.

Lieutenant Colonel Kazman pushed aside his lunchbox, slammed his wine glass on the table, and turned to his adjutant, "Yuri, what do you think this guy is up to?"

"I don't know, Your Excellency. I've never heard of curing an illness by giving water to a wounded soldier." The adjutant shook his head, equally clueless.

"Well, there's probably no other way but to bluff." The lieutenant colonel nodded and prepared to go rest.

"Holy water? Who does he think he is? Pfft~~"

But just then, a commotion came from the direction of the bandage station.
-
A few minutes earlier, in the morgue where the seriously wounded were being cared for, veteran Pavka and several other soldiers were sitting around a few lanterns, doing the work of night watchmen.

"Hey buddy, any more cigarettes? Anything's fine, even Mahe cigarettes, I'm not picky," a slick old smoker said to his companion.

"The priest said that smoking is not allowed here," the guy in front of me said with a poker face.

"What does it matter? It's all the same whether you see them or not." The veteran pointed to the silent stretchers around him, then suddenly sighed and said, "It's no use. I've fought in so many wars, and guys injured like this usually can't stand up. At most, there might be one or two lucky ones."

“But Father Putin said we should just watch.” His companion shook his head rigidly.

“Hey, that’s how all men are…” Pavka waved his hand dismissively.

"Honestly, I'd rather go take care of the guys in the tent; at least I could hear some noise. Don't you guys feel creepy here?" the younger soldier said nervously, rubbing his hands together.

“You’re still too young. Back in the Far East, when I was facing the Japanese, I once single-handedly took down an entire squad of them late at night. I also…” The veteran was about to boast about his experiences when he noticed someone poking him from behind.

“Hey, buddy, don’t poke me, it’s uncomfortable,” Pavka complained, leaning forward in annoyance.

As a result, he was lightly poked in the waist again.

"Hey, don't joke like that! I'm getting angry!" The veteran glared at the crowd.

The group of men in front of them looked at each other and shook their heads, indicating that it wasn't them. One of them looked at the scenery behind him and his face turned pale. He nervously swallowed and pointed to the back of the veteran with his finger.

A pair of hands covered in wounds rested on Pavka's thigh! "Ah!!!! My God!"

The veteran, who had just been boasting about his past bravery, jumped up in fright and shouted in a panic.

"Water...water...give me water..." A faint voice came from behind, and it didn't sound like a ghost.

Someone mustered up the courage to raise the lantern and approach, the light illuminating the face of the person opposite.

A seriously wounded soldier, whose wounds were festering and who had been in a feverish coma for three days, raised his hand and uttered the word "water" intermittently.

Faint, but clear.

"Wake up, he's awake! He's awake!" someone said, pointing with a trembling finger in the opposite direction. Then they noticed a slight movement from someone else in the other direction as well.

"He's awake too! Here!" Someone else saw a wounded soldier groaning softly in the corner.

"They're here too!!"

"Come and see this!"

“One, two, three… eight, nine… at least ten people! God! How could there be so many?” The veteran counted the number with trembling fingers, then seemed to suddenly remember.

"Quick! I have to go get the priest! A miracle, a miracle has happened!"

"A miracle! A miracle! A miracle!"

The messenger was so excited that he forgot the discipline of the military camp at night, and his loud shouts about the miracle carried far and wide.

The first aid station is a gathering place for lightly wounded soldiers on a small hillside.

At this moment, Qin Hao, who had been working all day, was leaning against a tree, dozing off. Moonlight shone through the clouds onto his blood-stained body, as if draping him in a silver veil, and soft snoring could be heard.

The junior medic, who had also worked a full day, hesitated before picking up a patched black cloak, reaching out several times but then pulling his hand back.

call!!!!!
Pavka ran over almost incoherently, pointing in another direction and jumping up and down, shouting, "God, God, Father, wake up! So many!"

"Keep your voice down, the priest is resting." The young medic immediately came over to dissuade them.

"But the seriously wounded have woken up! Many of the wounded who drank the holy water have woken up!" Pavka couldn't contain his excitement.

"Awake?! How is that possible?!" The medic was also incredulous, yet hesitated whether to wake the priest.
"But……"

A figure appeared in front of the two people.

The black-haired priest reached out and took the cloak from the medic, tied it around his neck, and picked up the lantern beside him.

"Come on, let's go take a look."

Under the moonlight, on the ravaged trenches, a lantern flickered on and off. A black-haired priest in black clothes strode forward, carrying the lantern, while two attendants jogged after him, carrying some things.

From a distance, it looks like an oil painting.

(End of this chapter)