#Generation RAMC

[gen-ramc-2040]

Our fav snacks!!

Chita:

Ant:

Ren:

Mura:

(Sorry for not being active, we’ve all been in a bit of a creative slump for Gen RAMC, hope to get this stuff off the ground soon though! -mod Smile)

[my-darling-boy]

I've read your post about Sidney Beldam (what a man!) and it fascinated me enough to buy (quite impulsively) The Facemaker. Long story short, thanks to you and Lindsey Fitzharris I'm in my history-of-medicine-nerd-era and in gayly-interested-in-WWI-period; and The Facemaker might be one of my favourite books I've read this year. The stories of soldiers! The photographs! The work of Gillies! And reading that he performed the first known phalloplasty on a trans man was a very pleasant surprise, you know.

As an ask without an ask wouldn't be technically an ask, here I ask: Do you have any academic paper or book "with plot" recommendations? Either something similar to The Facemaker or just something about or set during the era?

Ahh I’m glad it’s been so inspiring! Ah hell yes Gillies was on that king shit doing the phalloplasty, really set the bar for transgender medical care of the 20th century!

I’ve got (a lot) more info than you’ve wanted if you don’t mind (I really can’t help myself), WWI and thereabouts is a great place to look if you’re getting into medicine history cos that’s when a lot of rapid change happened due to the war as well as the Edwardians’ newfound fight against germs and with the influenza pandemic towards the end of the Great War. My area at the moment for 1900-1920s medicine is plastic and reconstructive surgery, amputations, shellshock and PTSD, post-war rehabilitation, and the general RAMC. So I’ve got some recs for medicine and treatment for the body and mind around the war!

For academic books with a bit more narrative/soldier accounts as you asked:

Wounded by Emily Mayhew. I’ll admit I’ve not picked it up just yet but I do own it and it goes a lot off soldier’s stories

Forgotten Lunatics of the Great War by Peter Barham. Fantastic read about the stigma of “lunacy” and the psychological hardships men faced returning home including fighting for pensions due to lost limbs and shell shock.

Breakdown: the crisis of shellshock on the Somme, 1916 by Taylor Downing. While I don’t agree with this author’s personal views on the war, it does give soldier accounts looking at how the military alone viewed and responded to shell shock which can be helpful to understand in contrast to the civilian post-war response, especially since PTSD and shell shock are two different conditions and the former wasn’t widely understood almost until the 21st century.

Medicine in the First World War Europe: soldiers, medics, pacifists by Fiona Reid. Cannot remember the exact nature of this book cos I can’t remember if I own it but if I remember right it does have more of a personal accounts type telling.

Testament of Youth by Vera Brittain. Not 100% a medical read but a famous memoir written by feminist and pacifist Vera Brittain about her time before the war and during such as a VAD nurse

Two more clinical book reccs if you’re into the how and why of wounds and such:

Faces from the Front by Andrew Bamji. Very good look into the treatment of facial injuries with plastic surgery, it is at times a bit graphic as there are plenty of photos

War Surgery 1914-18 edited by Thomas Scotland and Steven Heys. Great look into injuries and their pathology, approachable read with clearly defined figures and not just massive walls of text along with an extensive bibliography. I recommend this as well for anyone writing WWI fiction because this tells you how wounds ACTUALLY happened and presented themselves

Purely fictional but with medical themes in nature (off the top of my head):

The Regeneration Trilogy by Pat Barker. Quite well known, but depicts the psychological effects of WWI on various characters. If you want queer themes, you’ll like this.

Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. American anti-war novel about a soldier who horrifically looses his arms, legs, face, hearing, and sight during the war and is confined to a secluded hospital bed at the mercy of doctors and nurses who don’t know what to do for him.

A Month in the Country by J. L. Carr. More queer themes! Tells the story about two WWI vets doing archeological work at a church in the English countryside and their lasting battle with shell shock.

I’ve also got a list of a handful of academic type sources slowly collected over the past months for various medical WWI things. These are only the ones I remembered to save, but I know there were certainly several more:

Website on the detailed RAMC evacuation

Pay to access source on prosthetic limbs in Britain via JSTOR

bibliography for First World War medicine as a kind of jumping off point for more academic papers and medical books

Academic paper reflecting on Britain’s response and treatment of shellshock

Good short article on the care of veterans for work and housing post-war

Continuously updating catalogue containing medical records that detail quite interesting stories like a bombardier receiving hypnotherapy to cure shell shock, hyperlink at the bottom to search database

REALLY good site on the RAMC duties at casualty clearing, advanced dressing, and regimental aid

WIP article on Gillies, Sidcup, and patients written by person whose friend was the granddaughter of Sidney Beldam

Academic article on facially disfigured men reclaiming agency and visibility

Short article on soldiers and disability struggles after the war

Masculinity, Stigma and Facial and Psychological Injuries of the First World War thesis paper

Erskine Hospital records that show the hospital, rehabilitation, and patients as well as limb making. Full collection is held at the University of Glasgow

Relationships between medical care and masculinity

Also off the top of my head, if you’re ever in Edinburgh for whatever reason, you might really enjoy the Surgeon’s Hall Museums as there are thousands of artefacts on display such as antique medical equipment, Victorian dentistry items, 17th century skeletons, and 20th century prosthetics. Literally it is floor to ceiling in the main gallery with jarred organs, body parts, bones, and even most remarkably the preserved upper half of the face, moustache and all, of a WWI soldier which is probably one of—if not the—most fascinating and haunting thing I’ve ever seen at a museum imo. It can be a bit of a shock to the system if you’ve never been to that sort of thing before so take care when going. I’ve been about three times and there’s still a couple items that make me go a bit light headed to look at!

Anyway I know it’s a lot but I hope something in there could be more of help to you! Cheers x

[quotablefanfiction]

After the tall git’s third insult, John interrupts himself to turn to the silver-haired DI. “Sorry.” He points at the gratuitously cheekboned sod. “Who is this? Is he with you, because I’m pretty certain I’ve never seen a policeman with hair that ridiculous, and this story is starting to get boring to me.” The DI chokes on his coffee. The tall git scowls. “Afghanistan or Iraq?” John stares at him. Oh, Christ, not again. “Afghanistan. I was a doctor in the RAMC, I was shot in the shoulder, but it’s my leg that doesn’t work except apparently when I’m in a life-or-death situation, and if one more insult comes out of your mouth, this might just become one.”

John and Sherlock (chp. 1)

No Fare by PrettyArbitrary (AO3) Sherlock (TV) – General #Alternate Universe #A Study in Pink #BAMF!John

John doesn’t stop for Stamford. Instead, he takes Jefferson Hope’s cab home.

[scotianostra]

On June 25th 1971, John Boyd Orr, biologist and Nobel Prize Winner, died.

John Boyd Orr's pioneering research led to millions of children across the UK being given free school milk from 1946 to 1971 when Margaret Thatcher, then education secretary, cut provision giving her the mick name Thatcher, "Thatcher, Thatcher, milk snatcher”

Boyd Orr was born in Ayrshire into a religious and highly literate family, and it was perhaps inevitable that he should be destined for a career in teaching after studying theology. However, his studies at Glasgow University also opened up new avenues for him. He became interested in the theories of Darwin, and this led to a fascination with zoology.

When he graduated with his MA in 1902, he was assigned to a teaching position in the Glasgow slums to fulfil the obligations required by his scholarship. He lasted only a few days before resigning and going back home to Ayrshire where he was reassigned to a school in Saltcoats. There he completed his teaching but left as soon as he could, saying: "though I liked the children, I hated teaching them”.

Boyd Orr returned to university to study biology and medicine, and he graduated with a BSc in 1910 and MB ChB two years later. He only practised for one month before returning to university to undertake nutritional research. His MD thesis in 1914 was awarded the Bellahouston Gold Medal for the most distinguished thesis of the year.

On the recommendation of his supervisor, he was asked to be the first director of a new research institute in Aberdeen, which would later become the world renowned Rowett Institute. At the time of his appointment, it did not exist, but he would spend the next twenty-five years raising both funds and the profile of nutritional research to make it a reality.

The initial work to build the institute was, however, interrupted by the outbreak of war. Boyd Orr enlisted in the RAMC and saw active service on the Western Front where he was awarded both the Military Cross and the Distinguished Service Order. Later he would never wear the medals saying that the truly brave men had all died.

In the interwar years, he travelled widely and published extensively, emerging as one of the country’s leading experts in nutrition. He first came to national attention in 1936 with the publication of Food, Health and Income, a report of a dietary survey by income group, which revealed that the cost of a diet meeting basic nutritional needs was beyond the means of half the British population.

This led to similar studies being conducted in nineteen other countries and prompted the creation of a Commission of the League of Nations, which tried to formulate a global food policy. It became the forerunner of the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO). Boyd Orr would become the Director General of the FAO from 1945-48. These were important years because the predicted European post-war famine was averted in part by policies put forward by the organisation.

Boyd Orr was no stranger to the challenges of developing and implementing food policies, many of which are still with us today. He spent his later career trying to persuade governments and presidents, organisations and companies to rethink the way they did things. However, he would often bemoan the fact that while he could persuade farmers of the importance of the nutrition of their animals, he could not stir their interest “in the food of their ain bairns, far less in the bairns of ither folks”.

His was a life filled with honours and awards, from Gold medals at University to military decorations to honorary degrees and more. He was elected Rector of Glasgow University and subsequently became its Chancellor. He was briefly a British Member of Parliament, and in 1935 he was knighted for his services to agriculture. In 1949, after he was awarded the Nobel Prize, Prime Minister Clement Attlee ennobled him as Baron Boyd Orr of Brechin Mearns.

Reading of Boyd Orr’s long career it seems he had a series of false starts and perhaps even failures. But he was no dilettante. He combined a powerful intellect with an admirable work ethic to achieve a mastery in everything he tried. That he chose to move from a career in teaching to medical practice, to research, to politics and then to governance and policy making was not evidence of mere restlessness but of a constant desire to do meaningful work.

One of John Boyd Orr's key quotes highlights the interconnectedness of the world and the need for global unity, stating, "We are now physically, politically, and economically one world and nations so interdependent that the absolute national sovereignty of nations is no longer possible,"Sadly recent events show that the world is no closer to reaching that goal today..........

Boyd Orr was at heart a man with an ambitious vision for the world, and he firmly believed that real peace and prosperity would only ever be achieved when no one was hungry.

The citation for the 1949 Nobel Peace Prize read: “for his lifelong effort to conquer hunger and want, thereby helping to remove a major cause of military conflict and war”.

[darkhorse-javert]

Chitter-chatter Tittle-tattle

@flashfictionfridayofficial

I come home to Baker Street one early afternoon. I had been out since the early evening before, called by a case that proved more complex and critical than it might have been expected, thus needing my constant attention. But all had come well in the end, and thus did I climb up our stairs to the sitting room.

Holmes was in his accustomed chair, a cup of tea in his hands. Extraordinary the first. But he was not alone,

A young man, darkish haired and lanky-framed, twisted on the settle to look as I entered, and rose to his feet courteously.

"Ah Watson" Holmes says, his voice bright, "This is Hereward, my nephew. Hereward, Doctor John Watson, formerly of the RAMC."

He gestures his hand from me to the young fellow and back again, apparently considering that introductions enough. Young Hereward came around the sofa end offering his hand which I shook, though he shook more heartily.

"Very pleased to meet you Doctor, very pleased." His eyes are bright, very warm and enthusing. Not been in London long, for certain, and young, not yet twenty, or barely so. There is slightly a resemblance to Holmes, perhaps enhanced by the half-grown nature of the lad. Length of limb, a little in the set of the cheekbones. I glance at Holmes and send a look.

Hereward is the eldest son of my eldest brother," Holmes continues smoothly, as I cross and set my bag on the table. "He has come up to London to try his way in business for a time."

"Uncle Mycroft has found me a situation in a good merchant-firm, to give me a half-year trial." Hereward expounds, still on his feet and nearly springing with excitement at the prospect he pronounces.

"Very promising," I allow, nodding, hoping to continue to muffle my overwhelming bewildered state, compounded by tiredness, until I can bead Holmes for proper details.

Hereward beams at me, springs around the settle and sits down, surprisingly calmly, to pick up his tea.

He says a sentence in a language which seems to be a muddle of Latin and Greek.

Holmes - taking a sip of tea at that moment- starts, chokes, spits back his mouthful, and falls to spluttering wheezing coughs He hunches over, coughing into his sleeve, somehow managing to set the cup awkwardly but safely on the side-table in the midst of it. After a little I move over and pat him hard on the back, he clears his throat

"Thank you." The words come out part-bark, part-croak, but Holmes breathes more easily. His head comes up, and he stares sharply at Hereward, says something else I don't understand, except that it does sound more like Greek.

But what little I know Greek, besides the medical applications, was not my grandest subject in my schooling, and I am left a blank as to the conversation, except that young Hereward does not seem particularly rattled by Holmes' tone. He replies again in the same Mongrel tongue, voicing something that might (or might not be) 'Mycroft', shrugging.

Holmes humphs.

"Will you be staying here?" I ask generally, to break the deadlock, wondering as I so so, how it would be managed. Either Hereward or I in here on the settle with blankets, most likely. If me thus, pray that the lad is not perceptive enough to notice the stiffly tidy, barely used, state of the room supposed to be my lodge.

"No, Uncle Mycroft is putting me up - or putting up with me - until I have my feet and perhaps lodging with my fellows." Hereward shakes his head lightly, glances at the clock and rises neatly. "I think I should be going back. Thank you for the tea, Uncle Sherlock." He inclines his head in a nod to me. "Very Pleased to make your acquaintance, Doctor Watson."

I return the gesture, and Holmes rises to his feet, accompanying his nephew across the room to the door.

On opening it Hereward places his hat atop his head, then paused and says something in a very low tone to Holmes, close to his Uncle's ear. Holmes claps him lightly, familiarly, on the shoulder, waits as Hereward moves away and down the stairs hall-wards. Only then does he close the door.

"So, that is your nephew?" I ask.

"Hereward, son of Sherrinford, himself first born Holmes son; he keeps the gentry element of the family, whilst Mycroft and I may make our own paths as we wish." Holmes reels off casually. He looks more closely at me. "Watson did you eat last night?" My shrug is followed by a halloo downstairs of "Mrs Hudson!!!! Bread and biscuits!"

---

It is much later, in the dark of our room and bed, with Holmes curled around me, that I ask, "What on earth did he say, Hereward? It was in no language I understand."

"Holmes Patois, my Watson," He says softly. "Invented by Mycroft, taught to me when we were children, picked up by Sherrinford out of necessity. Latin, Greek and French for starters, a little of each with each other's grammar rules as well." I hear the smile in his voice, feel it in the hold of his arms around me. "And Sherrinford kept it up."

"What did he say?" I press

"That he agreed I had found myself an excellent, and handsome, Penelope."

Penelope, a loyal wife. I roll in his arms to face him. "Your family know about," -I wiggle my fingers that are above the covers, meaning the bed, the one room- "Us."

"Mmm." Sherlock says "Mycroft has not been entirely obtuse in his letters home, and neither Sherrinford or Hereward are stupid."

[scrapironflotilla]

I would also add the following authenticated instance of a German soldier being chained to his Machine Gun on 1st July. He was found in this condition in BRESLAU SUPPORT trench suffering from a severe wound, which was dressed by our Medical Officer on the spot. He was still attached by a chain four feet long to the tripod of his machine gun which was lying alongside him. Is it a German custom to chain men in this way? I had several times heard reports to this effect and I therefore ordered a Court of Inquiry to assemble to take evidence on oath concerning this occurrence.

Major-General Ivor Maxse in his report on the attack by the 18th Division on 1 July 1916.

Assembled In the Field… for the purpose of enquiring into the report that a wounded German prisoner was found in the German trenches chained to a machine gun. ' First Witness: Lt Marriot, RAMC…. at about 6pm I saw a wounded German lying near a broken machine gun. I dressed his wound and noticed that a chain about four feet long was fixed around his ankle and the other end attached to a tripod of the machine gun. It appeared to me that he had crawled to the spot where I found him dragging the tripod with him. Second Witness: Sgt Henderson 7th Btn Queens… I saw a wounded German lying on his right side. Close to him was a broken machine gun and tripod. There was a ring around his left ankle which was attached to a steel chain about four to five feet long, the other end of which was attached to the tripod of the machine gun. This man was wearing neither coat nor hat and severely wounded in the arm and chest. It would appear he had dragged himself and the machine gun attached to him to the bottom of the trench where I found him.

The story of soldiers being chained to their machine guns so they'll fight to the death was a common one throughout the war and I've seen it used as recently as the Vietnam War. Most of these accounts have been put down to rumour and propaganda, but here we do seem to have an authentic one. Martin Middlebrook has claimed that this particular soldier did it as on his own initiative as something of an act of bravado. So far I haven't come across any evidence to support that as the Court of Inquiry report in the Maxse papers just listed eyewitness evidence, it didn't have any conclusion. Still, it's an interesting little anecdote.

[o-rchidae]

WIP Wednesday - Thomas goes shopping for his new flat

From the Island of Gays metafanfic for @alex51324, hope you feel better soon.

"Aren't you coming to lunch?" Richard asked as he tried to slip away unnoticed. "It's pie day at the pub."

"I thought I'd get started on shopping for the flat." Thomas replied.

"Well eat something first. Greggs will most likely be at the pub as well. And then perhaps I'll come with you. I could warn you off anything that's too chintzy."

"I'd like that," Thomas said. He generally thought he had decent taste but Richard also had a good eye for those sorts of things and he valued his opinion.

"I've always wondered what Morrow looked like as a boy." Richard said.

It wasn’t until they got to the jumble that it occurred to him that Richard might be tagging along because he was dropping a hint for Thomas to propose soon and that they were effectively picking out things for their future home. The thought wasn't as frightening as he expected. In fact, watching Richard rummage through boxes of knick knacks and baskets of old fabric gave him a warm feeling in his chest.

Every now and then Richard would present him with a particularly ugly porcelain figurine that would have them both stifling giggles. One of them was of a small boy hugging an English sheepdog.

"Stop it." Thomas snorted, there was something about the way the glaze had run slightly that made both the boy and the dog look incredibly grumpy.

"Look at these. They have a T embroidered on them, you have to get them." Richard said as he pulled something out of a pile of blankets.

They were wonderful, two sheets and two pillow cases in a thick French linen with pulled thread work around the borders. It was the sort of bedding that might have been made by a talented demoiselle for her wedding trousseau. The only problem was…

"TR?" Thomas said incredulously, looking at the neatly stitched whitework monogram.

"Well you could add a bit of stitching to it and turn it into a B." Richard said thoughtfully. "Or you could marry someone whose name begins with R."

Definitely dropping hints. Thomas decided to deflect with a joke. "I don't think Dr Rouse would have me." he said. Unfortunately the joke didn't land and Richard's eyes widened.

"Really? Frank?"

"No, of course not. I were only joking."

"Oh right." the other man looked relieved. "Only it wouldn't be that out of left field. You're both intelligent, you both used to be in the RAMC, and you're pretty friendly."

"I like Frank a lot but I don’t want to marry him." Thomas sighed.

"I didn't mean to spook you. It's just that… Look I'm obviously pleading my own case here if you haven't noticed." Richard started.

"I'm not that oblivious." Thomas said sharply.

"Of course not. And I never really apologised for trying to push things with you in the beginning when you were just getting your bearings here. So I'm sorry for that. I want you to know that it's alright if you need time to think, and it's alright if you decide you want to be with somebody else," he finished with a sigh, "I want us to stay friends regardless."

Thomas smiled, touched by the declaration even if Greggs was trying to look like he wasn't eavesdropping from where he stood behind the shop counter.

"I think I will get these." he said, folding the linens back up.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Excuse Me As I Once Again Shoot My Plot In The Foot*

...why did I decided that Thomas and Mary needed to be Leos? Why was this a thing I just...randomly decided? I mean, okay, yes, I was really just trying to decide on a birthday for them and astrologically is fun, even if I don't believe any of it, and was as logical a way to choose as anything and honestly kinda fun at the time, but self.

SELF.

WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE 'DIFFERENT'?

SCORPIO WOULD HAVE MADE JUST AS MUCH SENSE AND IF YOU HAD THEM BORN IN MID OCTOBER YOU WOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO WRITE A BABY BEING BORN!

*puts head in arms and sobs*

*okay, to be 100% fair to me, the fact that Mary is pregnant through this whole thing is actually super important and has generally been very helpful as far as introducing ideas, getting the kids involved, etc. And the 'baby being born' scene is not happening in the room, because we are with Thomas's PoV right now and baby brother would not be allowed in unless Dr. Clarkson specifically called for RAMC backup. I'm just really frustrated that, hard on the heals of writing a bunch of aristocrats having dinner and talking, I now need to write a bunch of aristocrats sitting around the library talking. And then going up stairs and meeting a tiny human. None of which I am good at.

[thoughtsandbones]

Ιf eyes could kill

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!MedicDoc OC (codename: Blue) 💀💙

WARNINGS: Mention of alcohol, war, misogyny, sexism, racism, profanity, medical inaccuracies and just getting the POV of our friendly neighbourhood masked menace.

Plot: Doctor Ruhari Hari Kaur (OC is South Asian ☺️) joins the 141 again, but this time as their doctor. After the betrayal of Shepherd and Graves, Task Force 141 begins their hunt on his whereabouts and locating Makarov.

PLEASE reblog and like! Hope folks are enjoying the series, I am building up characters and plots, cos I have a lot ideas and just been enjoying writing :D

Song inspo: Deep - Nine Inch Nails and The Hand That Feeds - Nine Inch Nails

A/N: Flashbacks are getting messed up when I am indenting them and I am getting lots of errors when publishing the work, please bare with some mistakes and spelling issues.

RAMC - Royal Army Medical Corps

I grew up with the OG MW2 game, so there are some references to the old one, so kind of a mix of both the OG and the new timeline... (Also I'm ignoring the OG Shepherd betrayal and keeping in line the one with the new timeline..)

All rights reserved to the rightful owners of Call of Duty Modern Warfare.

spelling and some grammar mistakes as I am bad at times... :/

(FYI: bold sentences... that are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

Please do let me know how you all are finding this fanfic! :D

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6 and PART 7

Part 8

With both arms you push the doors leading out of the OR open letting out a loud sigh, untying your pink flamingo scrub cap and holding onto it, squeezing it within your fist. The surgery was of course a success, a simple appendectomy done in 45 minutes. The take out the pins holding your two french braids up in a bun, letting the braids fall against your back.

Yet you felt on edge. This doesn't normally happen. The irritability bubbling under your skin.

"No need to show off" Dr Jones commented when your were stitching the incision, using your preferred lock-stitch method.

That comment, along with the various other comments before, throughout and at the end of the surgery rattled you.

"Thought you'd be one of the nurses" whilst scrubbing in

"Hm wouldn't have done it that way" ��s you delved into the lower abdomen

"Do Indians chose any other career than medicine or IT?" He said post op.

The rudeness. The sheer audacity. If this was Royal Foxham Hospital, you would've snapped back at him the moment he made the first comment. But no, you didn't have the same reputation as you had back there. Here, you were just a liaison doctor begging to be a part of any surgery again.

General surgery wasn't your area of expertise. Neurosurgery was your arena. Another 4 more years, you'd be a consultant and flying solo.

But that didn't happen. Past trauma caught up to you, and crept back in your life and you dealt with it badly. Bad decisions that nearly lost your career.

Coming back to the 141 and retaining your medical licence was honestly a blessing.

You walk around the building where most of RAMC is based. Trying to calm yourself down. But those comments kept stirring in your head.

"Hey Dr Kaur" a sweet voice called out to you. You turn around and stop your aimless wondering. It was one of the nurses, Clarissa, the pink scrubs making her dark skin more radiant.

"Hey" You say weakly, giving a half-hearted smile leaning back on the wall hands behind your back.

"Look, I want to say sorry about Dr Jones earlier" She says, giving you a sympathetic smile.

"No, don't apologies for him" You say slyly. "Is he always.." you trail off

"Such a pompous ass?" She adds

"Fucking prick is what I would've gone with" You retort. Both of you laugh.

You check your watch, it was nearly 11:30 am and you had to get back to the infirmary.

"It was nice working with you" Clarissa says noting your concerned face as you checked the watch. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay?" she added

"Likewise, you were really good, and I am fine, don't worry" You reply back

Clarissa smiled, turning the around and you watch her walk away, her black braids swinging side to side against her shoulders.

You bang your head lightly against the wall and shake your head. The reminder of Dr Jones brought your irritability to a simmer.

Walking back to Building 2, you run into Gaz who was out on a jog, wearing a shorts and a grey shirt that was seeped in his sweat. He took off his headphones and nodded towards you.

"Morning Doc" he says catching up to you.

You turn to him and smiled slightly.

"Morning Gaz, how are you?" You ask

"Not bad, sweating off the alcohol from last night" He says, panting slightly.

You chuckle briefly, you remember the events of last night.

"No Soap with you?" You ask brightly

"When I swung by his room, he was throwing up in his sink, poor lad didn't make it to the toilet in time" Gaz chuckled

You laughed along with him.

"How was surgery?" Gaz asked you, turning to face you as you both approached Building 2.

"It was... good." You say slowly, pondering at the thought of whether he would want to know the drama or could you be bothered to tell the story and then get further worked up.

Spiralling in your thoughts again you think to yourself.

"Yeah?" Gaz says, looking at you.

"Yes, sorry, brain is fried" You sighed, bringing your hand up scratching your head.

"It's alright" Gaz says turning away from you, smiling.

Both of you head into Building 2, Gaz bids you are farewell as he goes to his room. You head to the infirmary and take the key out of your pocket, unlocking the door and taking off the OUT OF OFFICE sign off that you put up earlier.

Walking in, you take in the organised, clean and silent infirmary. No one is here to judge you. Just you. Strolling over to the desk, place the sign near your laptop, you sit down, leaning back into the chair and placed your feet near the edge of the desk. Tilting your head back, sinking into the silence.

The silence was broken as Captain Price waltzed in with an injured soldier on his back crying "My ankle" and "It's broken"

You quickly sit up and walk over to Price. Doctor mode activated.

"What happened?" You ask abruptly helping the marine over to the med bed with Price. You head over to the sink in the bathroom, wash and dry you hands and then grabbed a pair of gloves as Price struggled to lie the marine 's back down on the bed.

"Michaels here landed badly on his ankle when climbing over the climbing wall" Snapping the gloves on, you flex your fingers and then head to the ankle.

"It's broken" Michaels continues to whine.

Your patience already wearing thin, you gave him a stern look as he wailed at the other end of the bed. Price was trying to calm him down, but nearly snorted with laughter as he saw your face of disgust.

"If it was broken you wouldn't be able to wiggle your foot as much as you are right now" You huffed. Gently pressing the area, examining it. It was swollen.

Need ice, but could also maybe a hairline fracture... You think

Applying slight pressure to one area on the inner ankle Michaels lets out a loud yelp. You look up to Price.

"Going to call RAMC to come over and take you for an X-ray" You say aloud. Price nodded.

Michaels whined even louder.

"Calm down lad" Price shouted, Michaels stopped and looked teary eyed at Price.

Heading over to the phone you call the folks over at RAMC. To be honest you were at a lost all of a sudden. You hadn't dealt with broken feet in years, and you went over the basics in your head:

Blood, no. Visible deformity, no. Bruising of the skin, yes slightly... He was able to move his foot. But you had to be sure. X-ray to be sure.

Once off the phone, you headed over to Michaels, grabbing and crushing an instant ice-pack, then placed it on his ankle, keeping the leg elevated. Going over the basics again.

You felt your heart rate getting high, a slight tremble in your hand.

Pull it together you thought to yourself, burrowing your brows further and shaking your head. Price now seated next to Michaels watching over you.

Fifteen minutes later two medics arrive with a wheelchair to the infirmary, you help Price as he gets Michaels into the wheelchair, the ice pack dropped, and you bend down and grab it, placing it back on his ankle, securing it with a bit of medical tape.

"Thank you" you say to the two medics "Please keep me updated" you add, they nod back at you and Price and walked out.

"Cheers Blue" Price says "That was eventful" he adds chuckling slightly.

"Yeah" you sigh. "Just had to be sure, wasn't sure if it was a hairline fracture..." you mumble

"Your call Blue" Price says affirmingly and giving you a smile

You weakly smile back. Brows were still furrowed.

"Other than that, how was your day Captain?" You ask Price, trying to swiftly break the tension that loomed.

"Good!" He said exhaling deeply, trying to ignore the abysmal conversation he had with Ghost earlier. "Next task is to locate Soap!" He chuckles, shaking his head.

"Yes, Gaz said he was lurking round his sink, feeling the effects of last night" You say, slightly laughing.

"About last night.." Price begins, stepping towards you, eyes now full of concern and caution.

"Don't worry about it Captain, told you sambuca was vile." You say slyly.

"He's a boisterous lad, and it was amusing to see his drunken self"

"Yeah..." You drifted off, not making any eye contact with him.

Price takes in your dejected face. Something, perhaps someone, is bothering you.

"I believe its time for lunch, let's go grab some Blue" He says, gesturing you out the door.

Both of you leave the infirmary, at was 12:30pm, and you had breakfast at 7am.

Of course you're feeling low! Lack of sugar idiot You think, scolding yourself as you lock the infirmary and sticking up the OUT OF OFFICE sign again.

"Let's check on Soap first" Price says looking at you. You nod back following his lead.

Price leads the way as you both walk towards the door of Soap's bedroom. After knocking several times, there was no answer.

"I hope he hasn't choked on his own vomit" Price sighs, then turns to look at you. You raise your eyebrows at him

"Do you have a master key?" You ask

"No, I do not" Price replied sighing again.

Price banged one more time, the door shook.

"Soap, open up" Price said aloud.

Still no answer.

"Perhaps he's in the mess hall getting food?" You suggest

"Perhaps" Price says, looking at you and then back at the door to Soap's room. "Let's go then" Price added

You follow his lead as you both make your way down to the mess hall. It was busy, with it being lunch. You watch and follow Price, he made his way through the mess hall, soldiers making room for him and veering off from their paths that Price was heading down, stopping to nod and say hello to Captain Price, you watch from behind him, he nods his head to soldiers that say hello to him.

Near the end of the mess hall, you spot Gaz and a very hungover Soap, who was holding and nursing his head with his hands, scratching the back of his mohawk with his fingers. Price spots them, as makes his way over, looking over his right shoulder making sure you are still behind him.

Price heads over to Soap, and leans down next to him

"How's the head today?" Price whispers in his left ear, chuckling slightly.

Gaz laughs. Soap lifts his head up and groans.

"Awful" He moans "Didn't realise I would be feeling this bad" He added

Price sits down next to Soap, you go round the table sitting opposite Gaz, Soap and Price.

"Have you drunk enough water today?" You ask

"Aye" Soap says groaning, making eye contact with you.

"Taken any medicine?" You ask

"Aye, took some paracetamol about an hour ago" Soap responded

"Must keep drinking water, your brain is dehydrated" You say to him

Soap nods along, returning his head in his hands. Gaz snickered as he continued to eat his food.

"Blue, you want the lasagna?" Price asked

"Er, yeah, I'll come with" You say getting up

"Don't worry, I've got it for you" Price said smiling and gave you a wink.

"Thank you sir"

You sit back in the chair. Leaning your head back and staring at the ceiling.

Ghost walked into the mess hall. He had already eaten in the private kitchenette the 141 had next to Price's office. It was only ever him or Price that would use it. Gaz and Soap said they preferred the hustle and bustle of the mess hall. But he later found out that Price had banned them after they had once made a mess and damaged Price's expensive coffee machine.

He saw Price in the queue for getting food and went over to him.

"How's Michaels?" He asked

Price turned to look at him.

"He'll live. Blue thinks he may have a hairline fracture so was sent over to RAMC for an X-ray"

Ghost nods

"Seen Soap yet?" Ghost asks

Price chuckles

"Yeah, muppet is nursing a bag hangover" Price says, gesturing with his head to the back of the mess hall.

Ghost turned his head and spotted Gaz, Soap and you. You were shaking your head at Soap as he was running his hands over his head.

"Here, grab a tray for me" Price told Ghost

"Already ate Price" Ghost responded who now was a part of the queue to grab lunch as soldiers queued up behind him.

"For me you muppet. I'm getting Blue her food" Price said rolling his eyes as he passed a tray over to Ghost and grabbed another for himself.

"Why?" Ghost asked

"Something is up with her..." Price says slowly as he continues to stare at the food that was in front of him.

"Do you know what?"

"Maybe it's because you haven't told her who you are yet?" Price says, looking back at Ghost with a smirk.

Ghost was taken aback.

"Did you tell her?" Ghost questioned

"I told you, I'm not going to do it. You need to." Price chuckled.

Ghost looked over at the table where you sat with Gaz and Soap. Your head leaning back, eyes closed. Price was right, even from afar, you seemed on edge.

"Do you think it's what Soap said last night?" Ghost asked

Price moved along as the queue moved, Ghost followed, still holding the tray.

"Not sure." Price answered.

"What can I get you?" The staff member asked behind the food counter.

"Two lasagna's please, one with chips" Price said

Ghost grabbed the plate with the chips and placed it on the tray. He followed Price over to the fridge and took the bottle of water that was handed to him. He then made his way to the table where the other three were.

"Here you go Blue" Price said as he set the tray with the lasagna down in front of you and placing the water upright on the tray.

"Thank you very much sir" You say, giving him a slight smile, but brows still furrowed.

Price sat next to you, and Ghost joined, giving Price his tray. He sat by Soap, he looked at you. You were staring at your lasagna, not happy clearly. Something, or even someone had pissed you off.

"How's the head Johnny?" Ghost asked turning his attention to him.

"Awful Lt." Soap responded.

"You need to drink water, haven't seen you take a sip since I got here" You say, cutting up your lasagna, not making any eye contact.

"Aye, I'll grab some" Soap says, getting up and moving to the water tank behind them and grabbing a cup of water.

You look up and watch Soap drink the water, he refilled it and took another gulp. In the corner of your eye you see Dr Jones storm into the mess hall, your eyes met his, he marched over to you. Soap walked over back to the table and sat back down.

"Great" you muttered. Price looked at you whilst he took a bite of lunch, and then looked in the same direction you were looking at.

"Dr Kaur!" Dr Jones yelled

Gaz, Soap, and Ghost turned their heads to the direction of where that yell came from.

"Do you really think it is appropriate to send off an injured marine with just a sprain to us?" Dr Jones squealed "Not only are your skills in surgery lacking, but also in treating simple ailments" he hissed.

Dr Jones was now right beside you, still wearing the same blue scrubs, similar to yours, as he towered over you.

The blood coursing through you was boiling, you felt like every nerve was sizzling with anger. Taking a deep breathe in through the nose, holding for four... You get up and stand face to face with Dr Jones. Exhaling for four.

Price, Ghost, Soap and Gaz looked on at you. The contempt and hate seeping out of your eyes.

"I do not currently have an X-ray machine in the infirmary." You begin, voice steady, calm, yet with sly undertone of spite. "The patient jumped over and landed poorly from a 8ft climbing wall. The damage of that impact could've been fatal" You added, your eyes piercing into his.

The chatter in the mess hall died down slightly, soldiers began averting their gaze from their food to the confrontation occurring before them.

Price looked on at you, impressed with your calm yet calculated demeanour. A smirk appeared across his face, continued to watch you, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned slightly back to carry one watching.

Dr Jones stared back at you, stunned, you could've sworn his bottom lip quivered slightly.

"Additionally, I am a liaison doctor for the RAMC, my commanding officer is Captain Price, and he also agreed with my decision to send off the patient to you." You continued

Dr Jones mouth was open. Eyes still wide.

"I er.." He started, stumbling over his words

"Yes, it may have just been a sprain, however, there is no harm in double checking. After all, is it not the duty of the Royal Army Medical Corps to assist in any injury that any soldier gets?" You ask

"We- Well yes." Dr Jones stammers, the tips of his ears turning red, he looks around him and sees that all eyes in the mess hall are on him as well as you.

Ghost continued to look at you, your stern face locked in as you dragged Dr Jones. Your eyes still piercing the man whose face was turning red like a tomato.

"Good. Do not ever underestimate my decisions as a doctor unless you have a valid reason to. My skills in surgery are not lacking, just because I have a preferred method of stitching does not make me any less capable than you." You say bluntly. "That is all I have to say on the matter." You add.

You give him one final glare, ensuring he took the message in and sit back down to savour and enjoy the rest of your lunch.

Dr Jones began to retreat until Price spoke

"I believe you owe Dr Kaur an apology Dr Jones" Price said now looking at Dr Jones with a look of disdain.

"My apologies doctor" Dr Jones said through gritted teeth, his face now fully red.

You look back up to Dr Jones and nod back at him and then turn back to your food. Dr Jones walked off, the eyes of the mess hall trailing him as he left the door. The chatter began to increase after witnessing the alteration between the two doctors.

"Steamin' Jesus Doc" Soap says breaking the silence of the table. "That look in your eyes nearly took me out" He added laughing.

You look up briefly at him, smirking and then shrugged your shoulders.

"Honestly thought you would knock 'im out" Price exclaimed

"Not a chance" You scoffed

The anger with in you still stirred, you honestly did feel like punching him. You wanted to beat the living shit out of him. But you couldn't do that. You couldn't fuck up again. Aimlessly prodding at your half-eaten lasagna your appetite was now lost. The grip on the fork was strong, you just wanted to stab something. Or somone.

"It was impressive how you handled him Hari" Gaz said, after he took a sip of his water.

"Aye, do not want to ever piss you off" Soap says chuckling, looking at you and then to Gaz.

You look up, face still stern, eyes narrowed. You run your tongue over your teeth.

"Not only are your skills in surgery lacking, but also in treating simple ailments"

That comment rang through your head the loudest.

"You turned 'im into a blushing bride" Soap said, reaching his left arm over and tapping your on the shoulder. You look up at Soap not smiling.

Soap felt a tinge of embarrassment strike him as you gave him that same look. Before he could say anything you got up.

"I'm heading off to the training room" You say bluntly, eyes still cold. "Page me if you need anything" You add, looking at Price

Price nods at you.

"Shit, what did I do?" Soap asked as he watched you walk away.

Price and Gaz chuckle, Ghost looked at Soap and then towards you as you emptied your tray and left the mess hall.

"Clearly you don't remember last night" Ghost said

"What happened last night?!" Soap exclaimed turning to Price and Gaz.

Gaz and Price filled Soap in with the events of last night. The drunk comments he made. Soap turned red as Gaz kept going on about how he asked if you had a fella back home, and was literally sobbing at the fact you had a female ex lover.

"And you got my jacket wet" Ghost added

"Ah Jesus" Soap exclaimed, burying his flushed head in his hands.

Price's phone rang, he picked up it.

"Hello" He said

"I honestly do not remember that." Soap said "You don't think she thinks I'm like... homophobic...?" Soap whispered to Gaz

"Unlikely mate" Gaz said, patting Soap on the shoulder.

"Right, I'll send Ghost over" Price said and hung up.

Ghost looked over to Price, concern in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Ghost asks.

"Nothing. Blue wants to use the training room, and needs a CO to sign out the guns and needs supervision" Price said

Ghost sighed. Why him? This would make icing her out even harder.

"I'm on lunch, and seeing as though you already ate, you can go and supervise" Price said, as though he could read his mind.

"Yes sir" Ghost said, he got up and left the mess hall.

He made his way out of Building 2 and down the the training ground.

Being in close proximity to you, making it harder to avoid you. 'Specially since you were their doctor. Ghost thought.

Ηe walked in, and saw you standing by the reception area tapping your foot against the hardwood floor. You had changed out of your blue scrubs, and wore black fatigues and baggy black top that was tucked in paired with black combat boots. Your hair still in two french braids.

"Lieutenant" You say nodding your head

"Doc" He said, giving you a slight nod back.

"She wants to use training course, but she's not active duty." The man behind reception said to Ghost.

"Doc is part of the 141, so she's allowed to use the trainin' course" Ghost responded bluntly.

"Has she handled a weapon before?" The man asked Ghost

"She has." You answer

Ghost smirked under his mask as he grabbed a pen on the desk and moved towards the man behind the counter. He turned towards you.

"What course you wanna run?" He asks

"Target course 4. Two USP pistols and a knife, serrated is preferred." You say without hesitation.

Ghost raises a brow, he was slightly impressed.

"You heard her" Ghost said, turning back.

The man handed Ghost a form to sign as he went out back to retrieve the weapons. He looked over at you, you remained stoic, staring at Ghost.

"Goin' to have to supervise you." He said "That alrigh'" He asked

"Of course sir" You say

"Need you to sign here Doc" Ghost said, handing you the pen. You walk over to Ghost and take the pen and scribble your name. Ghost looked down as you signed your name: Dr Hari Kaur

The man came back with your weapons, 6 magazines and a magazine holder.

"These are live ammunitions" He said

"I know" You said "I also need a two gun holster with a belt, along with one for a knife please" You say

The man looks at you bewildered. He then looks at Ghost, who stared right back at him. He returned to the store room.

"You know what to do?" Ghost asks

"Yes sir" You say.

Ghost observed you as you inspected the pistols.

"Still allowed to play music?" You ask Ghost turning to look at him.

"Can do. What you wanna listen to?" Ghost asks

"Du Hast, Rammstein" You say and Ghost nodded.

The man returned with your holsters. Ghost watched as you looped the belt with the magazine holder through the hoops of your trousers and then attached the holsters, placing the guns in them. The knife holster was then attached to the back of the belt, you slid the knife in. Ghost handed you safety goggles and ear plugs. You took them and put them on.

"Ready?"

"Ready sir" You say

"Doc has requested music, I'll come back once I've shown her the course and will be in the box" Ghost said to the man who nodded his head as he signed off the form.

Ghost walked off and you followed behind. He opened the door to the course and stood by the door.

"Targets will pop up as you approach, knife 'em or shoot 'em, your choice, but remember, you are dealin' with live ammo, so be careful" He says "Check your corners" He adds.

"Yes sir" You say, eyeing the course, mapping out possible routes in your head. It has been years, but here's hoping that you still take these targets down.

"I'll start the music and let you know when to go, I'll be watchin' from the box" Ghost said as he points up to the little box overlooking the course. You follow where is finger is pointing.

"Thank you sir" You say returning your gaze to the course.

Ghost made his way up the stairs to the box where another soldier was.

"Lieutenant" He said getting up and saluting.

"At ease" He gruffs.

He walks over the control panel, and takes his phone out, loading up the song you wanted and grabbed the aux cord, connecting it to the phone.

He watches you, you look up at him in the box. He nods his head and you nod back and turned away, grabbing the knife from your holster and closed your eyes, rolling your neck around, inhaling through your nose and out your mouth. You got into your stance, feet planted in the ground firmly.

Ghost presses the mic button, his voice boomed over the Tannoy system. The soldier flinched but you didn't.

"Ready in 3, 2, 1" He said and pressed play. He watched eagerly as you walked quickly into the course.

The loud music boomed over the speakers. The first target popped up on your left, you knifed it with great force.

From the holster you take out the left pistol and clicking it, turning round to the right, two targets pop up.

*BANG* *BANG* You shoot them down. You crouch down, checking the corners and above you. You get up and two targets come towards you, you run towards them, shooting one and knifing the other.

Ghost continued to look down, his arms across his chest, nodding his head slightly to the music, he watched as you took down the targets, checking corners and doing a press check on your pistol.

Good He thought to himself.

You got up, and then jumped over a block, a target came up and you slid across the ground, taking a shot. Returning the knife to the holster, you grab your other gun, clicking it. Three targets come up, one running straight towards you, with both pistols in hand you shoot them down. Finding cover, you check your ammo. Eight rounds in your left and fourteen in your right pistol.

Getting back up, you crouch down walking around the obstacles, three targets pop up, you shoot them down as soon as they appeared.

"She's good" The soldier said in the box with Ghost.

"Hmm" Ghost said, keeping his eyes focused on you. You placed both guns back in the holster, taking your knife out. He watched on as you ran up to a target and knifed it, another target popped up behind you and he saw you take out your left pistol shooting it. Walking forwards, three more targets pop and and you shoot and knife them down.

You were approaching the end of the course, the song stopped, but you carried on. Ghost quickly picked up his phone and played another song by Rammstein, Sonne.

He watched as you shot down more targets, you had returned your knife to its holster and were now reloading the magazine in your left pistol. You approached the last four targets with both pistols drawn, and ran towards them shooting them down, your face scrunched up in anger and determination as you took another two shots at the target that wouldn't go down. You had finished the course.

Ghost stopped the music and pressed the mic button.

"Good practise, I'll meet you there" He says, you look up and nod, unloading the pistols.

Ghost walked down, and you walked towards him. You seemed more relaxed, brows no longer furrowed.

"Feeling better?" He asked

You smirk at him

"Much better" You respond

Both of you walk back over to reception. You hand in the full magazines.

"Grab the cleaning gear for us" Ghost said to the man. He nods and heads into the storeroom again.

"You remember how to clean a gun?" He asked you.

"Somewhat" You reply

"I'll show you, hand me one of your pistols" He said, raising his left hand out towards you.

You double check the gun is empty, opening the chamber, looking down the barrel, and then handed it to Ghost. He was taken aback.

"Well done, most recruits don't even check that" Ghost said.

You smile at him.

"My old sergeant taught me well. He would've probably shot me if I gave a gun to him with a round still in it." You say staring right at Ghost, smirking slightly.

Ghost felt a cold wave go through his body. Your old sergeant... You meant him He thought

Ghost cleared his throat "Good that you remembered"

You smile back him, staring right at him in those blue eyes.

The man brought the cleaning kit out and Ghost took ahold of it.

"Let's go to the garage" He said. You followed him, he held the door open for you and gestured you to walk ahead.

Surely she can't know. He pondered. Price wouldn't have told her, Soap couldn't of. No one else on base knew who he really was.

Both entering the garage, Ghost went over to an empty table. You sat down, looking at him still.

Ghost took a seat opposite you, he began to explain the correct way of cleaning a gun, you follow each of his commands, watching what he was doing, from disassembling the pistol, lubricating the action part and then to reassembling the pistol.

He watched as you followed his instructions.

"He would've probably shot me if I gave a gun to him with a round still in it."

Ghost smirked under his mask at what you said. It was slightly true. He knew he would've said something sarcastic back then to them.

He wondered if you knew it was him sitting right in front of him... He could just do it right now though. Rip his mask off and say "Surprise, it's me again" but he couldn't.

The garage door opened both Ghost and you looked up, Price walked in and headed in their direction.

"How was it?" He asked as he stood near you.

"Good" You say

Price turned to Ghost "What was her time?"

"5 minutes 48 seconds. She did very well." Ghost said looking at you, he watches as you smile, continuing to clean your gun.

"Not bad" Price said nodding his head. "Might have to speak to Laswell and see if we can get you active duty status"

You look up, a glee took over your face

"Really?!" You say smiling wildly

Ghost looked cautiously at Price and then at you. What is he thinking?

"Yeah" Price said

"She's not SAS." Ghost said sharply. You turn to look at Ghost, the smile disappearing.

"Women are now allowed to join aren't they?" You retort looking at Price and then at Ghost

"They are yes" Price said looking wearily at Ghost and then back at you.

"No." Ghost said bluntly. I cannot have you in the field. On missions.

"Why?" You say, eyes now focusing on Ghost.

Ghost looked at you. Eyebrows furrowed again, watching him, awaiting his reason.

"You'd be a liability" He said, the lump was forming in his throat again. Maybe this way was the way to ice you out he thought

You scoff.

"Liability?" You questioned

"Ghost-" Price started

"I am not having her in the field with us." Ghost said standing up facing Price.

"It was a suggestion Ghost, nothing set in stone." Price said, raising his voice slightly.

"She's our doctor, she patches us up, not a part of the team" Ghost said bluntly turning to look at you.

You were astonished. 2 minutes ago, everything was fine. You thought you were getting on well with your lieutenant. Clearly not.

Getting up from the chair, you pack up the cleaning kit

"Blue, listen-" Price began

"I believe it's Dr Kaur. After all I'm only here to patch you all up." You spit, not taking your eyes off Ghost, giving him the same piercing look you gave Dr Jones. Ghost felt a sharpness hit him in the chest. Grabbing the two pistols and cleaning kit you leave the two men behind whilst Price glared at Ghost. The door of the garage slamming shut.

"You really had to ruin it" Price said to Ghost

"I am not having her out there with us." Ghost said through his gritted teeth.

"You need push aside any feelings for her Simon" Price said, using his real name this time edging closer to him.

"I don't have any feelings for her" Ghost lied. Worry and anger coursing through him

"Simon. It was a mere suggestion." Price said.

"It was a bad suggestion" Ghost hissed and walked away from Price and out of the garage.

How the hell could he suggest such a stupid thing? I cannot have her out there with us on these dangerous missions. Ghost thought.

He knew he couldn't lose you. He knew you were a good soldier, but he couldn't have you out there with them. He wanted to keep you away from the horrors. He had to protect you. He couldn't let the same thing that happened in Siberia happen again.

[pers-books]

I'm thinking about Bernie and Serena getting together when they were in their 20s and each having a child: Serena having Elinor, then later Bernie having Charlotte. Bernie's still in the RAMC, but she has a UK based job - teaching trauma surgery, perhaps - while Charlotte's a pre-schooler. (I don't know if it'd be possible, but maybe Bernie is seconded to the NHS and goes about the country setting up trauma units or teaching trauma surgery, but she's going for a few weeks or a couple of months, then comes back home to Serena and their daughters for a couple of months before going off again.)

Then Adrienne dies and Serena finds out about Marjorie and Jason early enough that the six of them get to know one another before Marjorie's breast cancer, and Marjorie is going to ask Serena and Bernie if they'll look after Jason, but they beat her to it, offering to bring him into their family once Marjorie's gone.

After that, Bernie debates leaving the RAMC, because Serena having three children to bring up is an even bigger responsibility, especially if anything happens to Bernie, but Serena insists that Bernie continues because she's doing good out there. Then one day Bernie has a near miss - she's supposed to be going with Captain Dawson and a couple of others to a nearby village, but Serena calls - completely 'off schedule' - because one of the children is hurt, so Alex and co go without her while Bernie packs to head for home, and she's in the air when she learns of the roadside IED that injures her colleagues and she realises that she's had a lucky near miss, so she resolves to talk to Serena when she gets back to Holby about leaving the RAMC for good and finding a job in one of Holby's hospitals, if not Holby City General Hospital.

(Note, I didn’t say I’m thinking about writing this. Just that I’m thinking about it as an AU.)

[gunmetalgrey-trashpile]

Full name:  Severin Viktor James Moran Nickname(s) or Alias: Sev, that other one, darling (to mummy moran only) Birthday: 9th March Nationality: British, initially has dual Irish citizenship. Religion: Lapsed Catholic City or town of birth: Southwold, Suffolk Currently lives: Bermondsey, London Languages spoken: Russian, English, French, German, minimal Farsi and Arabic Native language: Russian Height: 6 ft 2 Figure/build: Almost an exact mirror of his brother, tall but keeps him self in strong shape, a little top heavy as his shoulders are very broad. Faceclaim: Will Tudor, Matt Czuchry Hair colour: Generally dirty blonde, lighter than his brother Eye colour: Green/Hazel Tattoos: Sleeve on his right arm he started once in the army that has references to his service. Medical snake and staff over his heart. Scars/distinguishing marks: Scar above his eyebrow where her split his head open as a kid, another when he fell and split his chin. Several nicks and cuts along his arms/hands from service, knee pain from road marching. Preferred style of clothing: Loose dress shirts and chinos, jeans and fitted t shirts, gym kit. Frequently worn jewellery/accessories: Has a watch of his fathers but never gets to wear it as he can’t at work. Level of education: A Level before his service; Russian, German, Chemistry, Biology, Mathematics and then a degree in medicine from UCL after his service Occupation: Army Medic, A&E Doctor at St. Thomas’ hospital London. Army Rank: Lieutenant combat medic, RAMC,16 Medical Regiment in Colchester.

Likes: Sports- he follows both Arsenal and England in the Six nations and will often have the radio on in his office, Super hero films, his flat is very green and his plants give him a little peace from his hectic job,. Dislikes: Being lied to, conflict, nutmeg, people who cross the street without looking, piers morgan.

CHILDHOOD The second born Moran son came long only 11 months after the first. He was happy, and easily entertained with his brother as a child. For years he would follow Sebastian around like a shadow, never knowing life without him. He enjoyed a country life, and with the big house in Suffolk he had the freedom to explore. He knew what was expected of him, and his mother always had a soft spot for his kind heart. Although they bickered as kids, he and his older brother were incredibly close, and were often egging each other on to make stupid choices.

TEENAGE YEARS Moving to London for school was a big step, made easier by the fact Sebastian was already there. With their father working long hours and trying to fit in time for the kids, it was mostly the two boys left to their own devices. He knew to give his older brother space, but naturally they were pretty much the only friend each other had for the first year or so.

He had to put up with being mistaken for his brother throughout school, though his hair was lighter they seemed to still be mistaken for each other in the right light. As Sebastian started to find a larger group of friends who liked to drink and smoke, no one really seemed to object to Severin tagging along. He excelled both academically and at sports, on both the rugby and football team whilst somehow managing to maintain decent grades. He could be mistaken for having it all.

When Sebasitan left to enlist, Severin threw himself even more into his studies in the condition that if his grades were good enough, he could tae a gap year to volunteer instead of going straight into the army. Thomas would probably have let him go either way, but Severin always pushed himself when he had motivation. Severin got better grades than his older brother and spent a year working for MSF (Médecins Sans Frontières / Doctors Without Borders).

THE ARMY The army was where Severin thrived, even more so than before. He enlisted as a medic, after a year spent with MSF he knew for sure that helping people was his purpose.

He had a tendency to treat his own body pretty ruthlessly, running on increasingly less hours sleep and forgetting to eat at times. His drive was all encompassing, and all consuming but it caused him to rise through the ranks. He didn’t go in as an officer, but by the time he was coming up to 26, he was given a promotion. His father was so proud, even though this wasn’t about pleasing him anymore.

And yet as he was doing so will, Sebastian was falling apart. Severin left the army at 28, volunteering with the red cross for a while before he could start university finally and become a doctor. Adjusting back to life without a constant drive was difficult, he started to take a little more care of himself in some ways. Maybe drinking more than he should, and definitely struggling to maintain a healthy love life as his focus drifted back to family.

Pretty much as soon as he got into university, Sebasitan was blowing up the family unit.

AFTERMATH He had never existed without his brother, and now that link was severed.

Severin threw himself into his studies, drinking even more and partying in the hours where he didn’t want to think anymore. Nothing to push him to have a problem, just enough for people to notice. It came to an end with his first year of residency in London, getting back into medicine and the only thing that seemed to be a constant in his life now.

MOVING ON Working at St. Thomas’s hospital is once again pretty much the only thing in his life. He keeps a few plants in his small flat, but he’s barely there. He can be found in the resting rooms at the hospital even when he’s not on call, or pushing himself to the point of exhaustion in his office. He doesn’t know when to say no.

AU’S

HAPPY/POLITICS VERSE: Severin is still a doctor but keeps in decent contact with his family

MODERN WITCH: He’s a witch healer, he spends his time working in conflict zones abroad but he’s still pretty much the same

FANTASY: Severin and his brother are on a crazy quest to save a princess

[scotianostra]

On September 23rd 1880, John Boyd Orr, Nobel Peace prize winner, was born in Kilmaurs, Ayrshire.

John Boyd Orr's pioneering research led to millions of children across the UK being given free school milk from 1946 to 1971 when Margaret Thatcher, then education secretary, cut provision giving her the mick name Thatcher, "Thatcher, Thatcher, milk snatcher”

Boyd Orr was born in Ayrshire into a religious and highly literate family, and it was perhaps inevitable that he should be destined for a career in teaching after studying theology. However, his studies at Glasgow University also opened up new avenues for him. He became interested in the theories of Darwin, and this led to a fascination with zoology.

When he graduated with his MA in 1902, he was assigned to a teaching position in the Glasgow slums to fulfil the obligations required by his scholarship. He lasted only a few days before resigning and going back home to Ayrshire where he was reassigned to a school in Saltcoats. There he completed his teaching but left as soon as he could, saying: "though I liked the children, I hated teaching them”.

Boyd Orr returned to university to study biology and medicine, and he graduated with a BSc in 1910 and MB ChB two years later. He only practised for one month before returning to university to undertake nutritional research. His MD thesis in 1914 was awarded the Bellahouston Gold Medal for the most distinguished thesis of the year.

On the recommendation of his supervisor, he was asked to be the first director of a new research institute in Aberdeen, which would later become the world renowned Rowett Institute. At the time of his appointment, it did not exist, but he would spend the next twenty-five years raising both funds and the profile of nutritional research to make it a reality.

The initial work to build the institute was, however, interrupted by the outbreak of war. Boyd Orr enlisted in the RAMC and saw active service on the Western Front where he was awarded both the Military Cross and the Distinguished Service Order. Later he would never wear the medals saying that the truly brave men had all died.

In the interwar years, he travelled widely and published extensively, emerging as one of the country’s leading experts in nutrition. He first came to national attention in 1936 with the publication of Food, Health and Income, a report of a dietary survey by income group, which revealed that the cost of a diet meeting basic nutritional needs was beyond the means of half the British population.

This led to similar studies being conducted in nineteen other countries and prompted the creation of a Commission of the League of Nations, which tried to formulate a global food policy. It became the forerunner of the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO). Boyd Orr would become the Director General of the FAO from 1945-48. These were important years because the predicted European post-war famine was averted in part by policies put forward by the organisation.

Boyd Orr was no stranger to the challenges of developing and implementing food policies, many of which are still with us today. He spent his later career trying to persuade governments and presidents, organisations and companies to rethink the way they did things. However, he would often bemoan the fact that while he could persuade farmers of the importance of the nutrition of their animals, he could not stir their interest “in the food of their ain bairns, far less in the bairns of ither folks”.

His was a life filled with honours and awards, from Gold medals at University to military decorations to honorary degrees and more. He was elected Rector of Glasgow University and subsequently became its Chancellor. He was briefly a British Member of Parliament, and in 1935 he was knighted for his services to agriculture. In 1949, after he was awarded the Nobel Prize, Prime Minister Clement Attlee ennobled him as Baron Boyd Orr of Brechin Mearns.

Reading of Boyd Orr’s long career it seems he had a series of false starts and perhaps even failures. But he was no dilettante. He combined a powerful intellect with an admirable work ethic to achieve a mastery in everything he tried. That he chose to move from a career in teaching to medical practice, to research, to politics and then to governance and policy making was not evidence of mere restlessness but of a constant desire to do meaningful work.

Boyd Orr was at heart a man with an ambitious vision for the world, and he firmly believed that real peace and prosperity would only ever be achieved when no one was hungry.

The citation for the 1949 Nobel Peace Prize read: “for his lifelong effort to conquer hunger and want, thereby helping to remove a major cause of military conflict and war”.

[formfollowsfunctionjournal]

John Andrew Wilson, of Wallsend, born 1884, died 1 July 1916, aged 32. 18540, Company Sgt Major, 15 Batt, Durham Light Infantry. Joyce Bell of Woodstock, Georgia, USA, his granddaughter, tells his story: “Grandpa Wilson joined up in Aug 1914 and was sent to France in 1915. The 15th DLI took part in the Somme offensive and went over the top on the morning of 1 Jul 1916 into murderous machine gun and artillery fire. The British and Commonwealth Armies suffered 60,000 casualties within the first 5 hours of which one third were killed. Grandpa Wilson's body was never recovered but he is listed on the Thiepval Memorial. Family lore has it that he died going to the aid of a wounded officer because of his medical training. We have since found out that he was in the RAMC prior to 1902. It is hard to realise that due to the stupidity of the General Officers two soldiers were wounded and one killed every second of the battle. God bless you Grandpa - gone but never forgotten.” This picture shows John Andrew Wilson, front right about January 1916. Via @newcastlechronicle - #WW1 #1914to1918 #sheepskinvest #goatskinvest #woolies #woolybear #stinker #leeenfield #vintagemenswear #vintagestyle #ruggedstyle #formfollowsfunction https://www.instagram.com/p/B99cZu5Jyk0/?igshid=xdebz0q5zsit

[ao3feed-berena]

Serenas girl

by Clavillesen

AU. A little bit inspired by the movie Finns girl. Serena and Bernie are younger and married. They have their 3 children. Serena is a scientist with speciality in genetic engineering. Bernie is in the RAMC

Words: 1060, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Holby City

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Serena Campbell, Bernie Wolfe, Henrik Hanssen, Raf Di Lucca, Adrian "Fletch" Fletcher, Adrienne McKinnie, Elinor Campbell, Charlotte Dunn, Cameron Dunn

Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe

Read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2vQMgBE

[stormlit]

now that m’s brought back the only boyfriend who’s ever been good to georgie ( @befields​ ) and i’m gonna be writing in her UNIT au so much more, i realised i never made a post about it. so...here’s that post akjfsh

( my very divergent version of ) canon still happens for her, but the constant near-death experiences, the frequent kidnappings, the constant watching civilians die really gets to georgie and she finally realises she cannot continue anymore; she transfers out of 2 section and goes to teach new medics in the uk, which she loves. 

from there, she’s recruited by UNIT --- she’s saved an entire city from terrorist attack, she’s highly respected, she’s gotten Noticed --- and up to that point, really didn’t have any experience of aliens beyond watching the shit happen in london on the news. typical of london, really.

she works with their medical unit --- their equivalent of the RAMC --- still as a combat medical technician, though in the uk; where there’s an attack or a situation, she’s the one that goes in and treats people as the situation’s going, and triages people afterwards, she’s on call for missions, etc. there’s also general medical duties, taking care of personnel, teaching first aid etc etc. basically what she’d have been doing in the regular army, with added aliens.

she’s a corporal, she’s been in the army for 7-8 years by the time she’s with UNIT, and she’s known to be Good despite her tendency to not follow orders when she thinks there are people to help.

it’s definitely set pre-UNIT getting bre.xited in s11, probably more about s7 era, and everything canon-wise is just shunted back in time a few years because i’m lazy and that’s just how it is! after UNIT gets defunded she just goes back to the regular army bc that’s what would happen with seconded personnel, but she’s definitely ripe for being recruited for any kind of secret alien fighting shit she can never say no to things like that.

although this was meant to be an assignment that keeps her away from all that first point bullshit, she absolutely gets herself in an alien hostage situation and she’s absolutely trying to protect civilians and she absolutely ignores her own safety to keep them safe because that’s just her brand at this point. the doctor ( @withbox​ ) is involved. at least she’s already going to therapy, this time.

probably still goes abroad sometimes, bc UNIT has bases all over the world and...georgie’s incapable of turning down a deployment even though they’re historically Bad for her.

she’s dating @befields​, and they’re very careful to make sure it falls into regs and he’s not acting as her superior in any way, esp bc georgie’s been victim to her commanding officer hitting on her before. a lot. also her brand. doesn’t want to repeat it, thanks. they’re probably that couple everyone knows about.

she’s very good at it. takes the alien thing in her stride, will help non-human beings as much as she’ll help the humans ( even when she doesn’t understand their biology ), is a star.

idk what else i need to say about it but she looks very cute in the red beret thank u

[marta-bee]

A question for Brits: military service and financial incentives

What, er, recruitment incentives would John likely have been given to join the British RAMC? I mean material benefits -- obviously there would be the obvious appeals to patriotism, “manly” work, seeing a bit of the world and having an adventure, all of that?

So in my experience with the U.S. military, recruiters tend to emphasize three things: the GI bill, which is supposed to pay for college; the VA system which gives you free medical treatment for life; and signing bonuses, a one-time cash payment on completing your basic training. But I’m not sure if these exist in the UK military enlistment system. Free healthcare seems less of a draw where you already have universal healthcare for all; and my understanding is most RAMC enlistees would already have done at least their medical school, if not their early postgraduate training. 

If John were an American enlisting would make a heck of a lot of financial sense - the military would almost certainly pay for his school, which would save him tens of thousands of dollars in student loans, and he’d probably get a nice bonus for enlisting. (I think; I know he would as a general soldier, less certain how this works if the military’s already paying for your school.) But how much of this would be motivating him as a British RAMC recruit? Inquiring minds and all that.