
Bearing the bandages, water and sponge,
Straight and swift to my wounded I go...
I onward go, I stop,
With hinged knees and steady hand to dress wounds,
I am firm with each, the pangs are sharp yet unavoidable,
One turns to me his…

Bearing the bandages, water and sponge,
Straight and swift to my wounded I go...
I onward go, I stop,
With hinged knees and steady hand to dress wounds,
I am firm with each, the pangs are sharp yet unavoidable,
One turns to me his…