Rather then bend your ear telling you stores about me life, I started writing a book, "Tales of a Dead Soldier".
From Chapter One: The Hospital Years
By the time I arrived at Ft. Sam Houston, Texas I had been in three hospitals and had my first dozen surgeries. I arrived in a full body cast and a long arm cast. I was taken to Brook General Hospital, Beach Pavilion, 4th floor. This is where I would spend most of the next years.
I was taken to ward 43A, the amputee ward, and the full body cast was removed and I was placed in traction. By the time they finished the only parts of my body not in traction were my head and right leg. A few weeks later, after they decided not to cut off anymore parts. I was moved to 43B, and my bed was the second closes to the Nurses Station. I had been on the ward for about a week and taken to the Cast Room for a new long arm cast. While I was gone, the head nurse of 43B, a male Captain, reported me AWOL. This started an almost constant battle between us.
I was later moved around the corner from the Nurses Station, out of his sight. My right hand was still in bandages and if I wanted to smoke I would ring the buzzer with my right knee and an orderly would come over. If he or she had time they would light the cigarette, I would take a few puffs and they would leave. One day everyone was busy any I poked my thumb and right ring finger out of the bandages. I grabbed my cigarette pack and shook out one cigarette, put in my mouth, picked up my lighter and lit it. I closed the lighted and put my flaming bandages out by beating them on the upper part of my cast. One day the Captain saw this and reported it the the main head nurse, a female full Colonel. Her reply was, "It is his hand".
Note: Later several of us would leave the hospital in our pajamas and go drink all day at Lone Star and Pearl breweries, switching each day because they would not let us drink for free two days in a roe. The Captain never said a word.
