Chapter Eight-7

1944 Words

“Sophan, we must have a medical clinic for the camp.” “Yes, Angel, we must. But we have no supplies, no personnel.” “Major Fernandez has captured a large tent from somewhere. He’ll allow us to use it in exchange for the barge. With the river cut it’s of no use. And the premier will confiscate it if we refuse its surrender.” Sophan laid the back of her hand on Vathana’s cheek. “Angel,” the wet-nurse said sadly, “you’re getting too thin. You can’t help everyone if you waste away. Tonight, just tonight, you must go home and sleep.” “Tonight, Sophan”—Vathana’s eyes flashed with the energy of total commitment—“tonight we’ll erect the tent. Tomorrow we’ll find a khrou and perhaps a doctor and from them”—she indicated the mass of waiting, milling refugees—“we’ll gain nurses.” 3 May 1970—Sudd

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