Crozier's Operation

Stephen was strangled by something, and then hauled up to the surface of the water, spluttering indignantly.

"With all due respect, sir, will you climb that ladder like a Christian!" Quinn said quietly into the Doctor's ear, pulling him up so he could grab at the man-ropes. "Or else I'll shove you up there like a new recruit!"

"For God's sake!" Peter was shaking with anger and fear. "You should not have tried that. The doctor should stay in the boat - or they can rig a bosun's chair. Do not attempt to climb again, dear sir."

The day had not been a good one. Stephen had been tired even before the operation. He had been marooned, attacked, hit about the head and arm, punched in the face, shot at; he had increased his number of patients exponentially, he had swallowed blood, and now he had fallen into the sea. To be talked to in such a way, even by a rescuer, was simply too much.

"Your soul to the devil, Henry Quinn! You will shove me nowhere! Your red-coated English soul to the devil- Hell and death!" The rest of the words were lost in the effort to grasp the man-ropes, and he clung, swaying, by one hand. "No, no bosun's chair - I will climb the ladder like a Christian, for God's love-" He fell back into the boat.

He looked at the Doctor, trying not to sigh. "You stop in the boat, sir, it'd be much the safest thing." Which left Yates as the first person to go back aboard Terpsy.

The sooner all this was over, the better for all concerned, in Quinn's opinion.

"I will stop in the boat, Sergeant, but I am not one of your privates to be ordered - no, not a new recruit either!" Stephen looked up at the faces looking down at them, attempting to appear defiant and looking more like a drowned rat. He visibly deflated, curling up into himself and staring bleakly at Barrow.

Peter stared at the doctor. "Stay here, please," he said. "We'll get you aboard as quickly as possible."

He turned and clasped the ropes to climb up, the surge of rage leaving him trembling with exhaustion. Just a little bit more, he told himself. And he would not fall back. Quinn might have nothing but contempt for him, but he would make it up the side on his own.

Now Quinn did sigh. "I'm sorry, sir, really I am." And he hadn't seen how much the Doctor's arm was hurting him - though maybe he should have. His own Marines made light of their wounds or injuries often enough. And the Doctor was already less than fighting fit, even before the events of today. If that had been any of his Marines, he'd have relieved the man of duty and sent him to see the surgeon.

Stephen sniffed miserably in response, gripping his dripping wig. "I asked if I should not stay in the boat," he said softly.

Quinn nodded, feeling slightly ashamed of himself. "You did, sir. And I didn't know how much your arm was hurtin' you, or I wouldn't have suggested otherwise. You'll be aboard soon enough, though, and there'll be coffee or something and a clean change of clothes for you."

Stephen nodded gracelessly, feeling entirely humiliated. He looked up to see Mister Yates climbing over the side, onto the deck. "Is it yourself now?"

Peter reached the deck and stood, shaking still, though whether with fear or anger he could not say. Once he had reported... "There are four - no, five injured men in the boat. It should be hoisted in as soon as everyone else is up. We will need help in getting the injured to the sick-bay - stretchers, and people to carry them. Captain..." He was swaying but had to make his report. "There was a party of French Marines on shore. They attacked us, and we suffered injuries. That was why..."

"Mister M'Clure first, sir, then me, then everyone else. We'll be quick, though, and I'll go chase up the wardroom steward to get some coffee on for you."

He took a breath. "I think... I think you've saved Mister Crozier's life, and Barrow's too. Or at least given them a fightin' chance. Thank you for that, sir."

Stephen lowered his voice for only Quinn's ears as M'Clure began up the side. "It was my duty to try, at least. But I do not have high hopes for Barrow - these wounds are usually... Thank you for pulling me out. But..." He looked back at Barrow, the catheter dripping even now, and sniffed.

"If you hadn't tried, he'd be dead already, I know that much, sir. And, please let Mister M'Clure take a look at your arm. I'd bawl one of my Marines out for not lettin' folks know he was wounded like that." He saw Mister M'Clure reach the top of the steps, and nodded. "I'll see you aboard, sir."

"I am not wounded; it is a bruise," said Stephen, his voice deadly as Quinn started up the ladder. He looked away. If he had not asked that the operation be performed on land, Barrow would not have been injured in the first place, nor Joyse and Everett.

"Ten of them, perhaps a dozen, with a civilian - I saw him when they came onto the beach." He turned his head to watch for Sergeant Quinn. "We were not in a position to defend our position, but the boat gave us the ability to move out of musket range." He saw Quinn appear over the rail, and nodded to the Captain. "I would like to speak to the Sergeant, if I may - he will have more detailed information." He stepped back and said: "Sergeant Quinn?"

Quinn had never seen a man unable to use his arm if it was only bruised, but it was not his place to say that. He climbed up Terpsy's side quickly and arrived on the deck, grateful to be home. Yates was still standing there, obviously having just made his report.

He was a good lad, Mister Yates was. He just needed a bit more experience and bit more self-confidence.

The midshipman in question turned, looking for him. He came over and saluted before making his own brief report. "The doctor managed his operation well, sir, before we were surprised by a party of French marines who wounded two Marines, a sailor and Doctor Maturin slightly. Mister Yates here organised a strategic withdrawal in the boat - the French not having a boat - and we waited for Terpsy's return, sir."

"Sergeant Quinn. When we reached the ship, I gave orders that the wounded men and Mr Crozier were to remain in the boat, and Dr Maturin would stay to look after them. You knew his arm was injured, that he had a blow on the head, and a splitting headache. You knew that even in a calm sea and when totally well Dr Maturin might fall into the sea. Why did you insist that he attempt to climb, using language that would be harsh used against a new recruit?" Peter was now so angry that the freckles would be standing out in a white face, and his eyes, normally blue and friendly had narrowed and hardened. "Why did you endanger the health of the man who tried to save Dr Crozier's life?"

He stood to attention. "Beg pardon, sir, but I knew he had a knock to his arm. I did not realise at the time that it was injured; Doctor Maturin took good care to hide it from me and anyone else. I was concerned that the boat might be too heavy for those attempting to bring it aboard if it had five people still in it, which would add to the danger for those two seriously injured men in it if it were knocked inadvertently. My first invitation to him was polite as well as being quiet. I may have lost my temper a little after that, for which I apologise."

And if he'd used any language that could be considered harsh to new recruits, Yates had obviously never heard or seen a drill sergeant on the parade ground.

"You lost your temper with a distinguished guest; you risked his life, and you overrruled my judgement without even discussing it with me. If Dr Maturin had been willing to climb, it would still have been dangerous. But he asked to stay in the boat, and you continued to pressure him. I am not at all satisfied with your explanation."

Edit: [ooc: I cannot delay any longer. I must go to bed..... But I think I was in command in that boat, Quinn.....]

Branning gazed uneasily at Barrow and Mister Crozier as the other Marines went up the side one by one. Despite their own wounds, Everett and Joyse made the climb unassisted, though Joyse nearly slipped once about halfway up. The scene with Doctor Maturin had made him feel particularly low. Like Quinn, he hadn't realised the little man had been so badly hurt.

"Sorry sir," Branning muttered, just loud enough for Maturin to hear. That precisely what he was apologising for, he wasn't quite sure. Perhaps it was as much what had just happened as for the mess ashore. The big Marine stepped up out of the boat and hauled himself up the side. That had been all he could think of to say.

M'Clure had turned away from the disgruntled talk of those in charge, watching Dr Maturin helped up the side. He was going to do something about that arm, no matter what trouble he got in.
Though first there were all those others...which was probably why Dr Maturin had managed to get this far without being shouted down and hauled into a corner and prodded about like the patient he really should be. M'clure wasn't looking forwards to that with much hope of a pleasant patient, sadly.

The doctor had managed to take a bath the second time since he had boarded Terpsy. It brought a smile to the disgrunted former middie. He was saved of course, and then the first - Mr. Yates - come to climb up. And so after him the rest of the uninjured.

The sailors were a slight bit taken aback by the public display of the 'argument' for they've neither expected it from the young Mr. Yates or Quinn, or between a midshipman and a marine, other than perhaps that ex-mid, and even less that such would be done for all to see.

It just wasn't what happened, there now, was it? Some have just come from the tops, and some had already been on deck to help, both with the boat being hoisted up and then with the injured. There were so many questions raised at the sight of the wounded. Even the daftest of Tars remembered having seen the the Shore Party sent to land not to fight but to heal. Now, as they came, they had more wounded - some even gravely - than before. Something hardly looked right!

The closest - as close as they could dare be - had heard some of it and most had seen the men still left in the boat, injured as could be. With the order given, all preparations for a safe hauling of the boat were made. They've had a fight. That's what they learned. De Guarde scowled. While they were chasing without success, these men had had all the excitement. It didn't even seem to matter to the boy that the excitement cost them dearly. Perhaps only the sight of some of the wounded sombered him up a little. Not enough to feel unhappy at how luck had given the least likely - in his opinion - the experience for which they've worked so hard for.

"I beg pardon, sir, but I took it as natural reluctance on his part, because he seemed willing to do it. I had no idea of the extent of his injuries at the time or I would certainly not have suggested it."

And yes, he had overruled Yates. Which was unforgivable.

"As to overruling your suggestion, sir, I did, and I am very sorry for it. I had no right to do that, and I can only offer in my defence that we were all feeling the strain of the past few hours."