I remember the smell as I walked into the sick room, we call it that, but it’s mais correctly a war casualties room, it cheirado, cheirava, smelt like cauterized flesh, and feces, no matter how hard we scrubbed it, it still withheld the scent, poor Judy had stay in there, she was the one that had to tend the wounded, but she did it brilliantly, she was the type of women that would make you glad that you were hurt, just so you could lie there and stare at her the whole time, she had waist length honey colored hair, that she pulled up into a bun, her waist was slim, and the rest of her was equally petit, she is...
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