The war: twentieth day! Hospitals full of the wounded. They’ve no choice but to refuse Covid patients. The result: an increase in mortality rates. As the world struggles with the Covid, Armenia fights fascism and terrorist aggression. Our fate was not to have a civilized enemy…  Most unfortunate! “Where you see destruction and blaze, you know the Turks passed there.” Victor Hugo.Doctor Davtyan had not been home for a whole week. How could he? The numbers of heavily wounded goes up daily, each younger than the one before. They all need urgent surgical operations, and there aren’t enough doctors… They say, Aram whose wounds he treated yesterday, was hit when trying to rescue his wounded friend from the front lines. He had dragged him, with great difficulty, back to their own trenches. At the same time he had seen another of their squad boys lying unconscious. He had managed to get the first one to relative safety and then oblivious of his own safety, had gone for the other one, not knowing if he was alive or dead… The explosive had gone off there. They were sure he had also been killed, but Aram must have been born under a lucky star. They had managed to transport him to Yerevan’s Erebooni Hospital, with the other heavily wounded. He is still in the holding wing, having just gained consciousness… out of danger thank God.While the doctor was quietly examining his wounds and checking his pulse, the patient opened his eyes, looked at the doctor and shouted in agitation.—What are you doing here, take cover!The doctor grabbed his hand.—Relax Aramjan, no gunfire here.—Ah, I’m talking about me. Am I to defend our position, or you?The doctor instinctively began to pat his hand… —You are in the hospital now, in Yerevan.—What are you saying? Yerevan? So where is Sako? And Armen?—They are safe! In the hospital.—But why am I here? And Hakob? Where is Hakob?—Everything’s fine, you just have to rest now.—Excuse me, but who are you?—And I am a doctor.—You’re a doctor? How are you doctorjan, are you taking care? Hope nothing’s happened to you.The doctor smiled despite himself. He couldn’t remember when he had last smiled in these terrible times.—I’m alright, I’m alright Aramjan.Then he ordered the nurse to give the patient a sedative, so he would be as still as possible. And then the doctor got up; no time to waste, there were boys in the post-surgery room next door. —Now I get where I am doctorjan. I’m alright, honestly. Release me as soon as you can. My friends are still there, what am I doing lying here? I got to go get them, my brothers, I can’t just lie here. Do something, please!The doctor nodded and turned towards the door. It’s so difficult to control the inner turmoil, even if you are strong-willed. So many heroes from such a small patch of the Earth. Where did they come from?… The surgery was scheduled for the next day. His legs were to be amputated. The End

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