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GWOT II - International Safety Zone
Oct. 5th, 2019 10:07 pmGWOT 2 - International Safety Zone
[This entry is taken from the private notes of an American war correspondent. If he had been foolish enough to submit this as a proposed article, he would have been swiftly killed in a training accident.]
In normal military operations, casualties are taken from the point of injury to a casualty collection point. From there they are taken, when possible by ambulance, to an aid station. At the aid station lifesaving care is given, the casualties are stabilized, then transported to a hospital. Sometimes this is a mobile hospital, other times a hospital ship ... but whenever possible, a purpose built hospital is preferred. Casualties are transported further and further away from the lines, by ground or air as appropriate, until ultimately removed from the "theatre" or zone of conflict entirely, and back to the home country's hospitals.
Nothing about the sudden ad hoc invasion of China has been normal.
Again in normal military operations, a combatant has the obligation to care for both friendly and enemy wounded under the Geneva and Hague conventions. This explicitly includes civilian wounded. At the very least combatants should not interfere in civilian efforts to care for wounded; should leave hospitals alone and medical personnel free to work.
My eyes and nose tell me a different story.
This captured hospital is busy and in use, caring for American wounded. In every hallway there are alert American soldiers. The handful of remaining Chinese staff work busily with their eyes down, mopping floors and cleaning laundry. They are not allowed near patients.
The alley in the street behind the hospital tells me why. It is piled in bodies, some groaning but most dead. They are of three basic types:
-- Chinese patients, discarded as they were in the way and their beds were needed for Americans, recognizable for their relative lack of clothing and bandages, now splotched with blood. Their own.
-- Chinese medical personnel, who objected, recognizable by their uniform garb, now splotched with blood. Their own.
-- Chinese civilians, who objected, recognizable by their brightly colored clothing splotched with ... you get the drift.
This is a war crime. I should report this. I am an American war correspondent but I am also a United States naval officer. I have Marines under my direct command; they would obey orders.
The hospital is under US Army control. I am not about to start a firefight between friendly forces in the middle of a captured enemy city.
So I am going to do something different.
Down the street there is a primary school. It has classrooms, toilets, a cafeteria.
It is now the Chinese hospital, I decide.
With that my Marines start gathering up the groaning wounded and carrying them to the new facility. The Army soldiers in their machine gun nests at the doors watch curiously but do nothing.
I brace the corpsman and the interpreter.
The former is a combat medic. The last few weeks have been a crash course in combat surgery, but he is still just a medic.
I explain my intentions. The interpreter - a Marine who can read Mandarin out loud and has a translation program on his phone - is puzzled.
"What is reverse triage?" he asks. "For that matter, what is triage?"
"Triage is sorting wounded according to their injuries. Instead I am ordering that we find and treat the Chinese medical personnel who can help us treat the rest."
There are only two things we can do for this groaning pile of Chinese wounded. Get them away from the hospital to help hide the war crime committed here, and get a few of them patched up so that they can continue to help themselves after we leave. Which will have to be soon.
I have said this baldly out loud. Perhaps this is a mistake. But I don't care.
They proceed on their assigned tasks.
One of the patients thanks me in English. This is enough for me to immediately draft him as a second translator.
"We need civilians to bring us medical supplies. We will need to leave soon. After that you are all on your own."
"Why are you helping us?"
"Never mind that."
I start making signs. Huge red crosses.
I recall a tidbit of history and decide that the time has come to resurrect it.
I add three words to the signs, beyond the obvious HOSPITAL and NO WEAPONS and OFF LIMITS TO US MILITARY PERSONNEL.
###
"What is this? What the fuck is this?"
The Army general stops his driver, who stops the vehicle.
The school's entrances have been graffitied in English and in ideograms, both Mandarin and Cantonese.
There are two United States Marines standing at attention in front of the school, eyes front and rifles shouldered. They do not reply.
The General looks again.
"Drive on," he growls finally, and they do.
As the vehicle drives away, the words are visible on the walls.
They carry no legal meaning under the laws of war.
But once again they have prevented an atrocity.
INTERNATIONAL SAFETY ZONE.
[This entry is taken from the private notes of an American war correspondent. If he had been foolish enough to submit this as a proposed article, he would have been swiftly killed in a training accident.]
In normal military operations, casualties are taken from the point of injury to a casualty collection point. From there they are taken, when possible by ambulance, to an aid station. At the aid station lifesaving care is given, the casualties are stabilized, then transported to a hospital. Sometimes this is a mobile hospital, other times a hospital ship ... but whenever possible, a purpose built hospital is preferred. Casualties are transported further and further away from the lines, by ground or air as appropriate, until ultimately removed from the "theatre" or zone of conflict entirely, and back to the home country's hospitals.
Nothing about the sudden ad hoc invasion of China has been normal.
Again in normal military operations, a combatant has the obligation to care for both friendly and enemy wounded under the Geneva and Hague conventions. This explicitly includes civilian wounded. At the very least combatants should not interfere in civilian efforts to care for wounded; should leave hospitals alone and medical personnel free to work.
My eyes and nose tell me a different story.
This captured hospital is busy and in use, caring for American wounded. In every hallway there are alert American soldiers. The handful of remaining Chinese staff work busily with their eyes down, mopping floors and cleaning laundry. They are not allowed near patients.
The alley in the street behind the hospital tells me why. It is piled in bodies, some groaning but most dead. They are of three basic types:
-- Chinese patients, discarded as they were in the way and their beds were needed for Americans, recognizable for their relative lack of clothing and bandages, now splotched with blood. Their own.
-- Chinese medical personnel, who objected, recognizable by their uniform garb, now splotched with blood. Their own.
-- Chinese civilians, who objected, recognizable by their brightly colored clothing splotched with ... you get the drift.
This is a war crime. I should report this. I am an American war correspondent but I am also a United States naval officer. I have Marines under my direct command; they would obey orders.
The hospital is under US Army control. I am not about to start a firefight between friendly forces in the middle of a captured enemy city.
So I am going to do something different.
Down the street there is a primary school. It has classrooms, toilets, a cafeteria.
It is now the Chinese hospital, I decide.
With that my Marines start gathering up the groaning wounded and carrying them to the new facility. The Army soldiers in their machine gun nests at the doors watch curiously but do nothing.
I brace the corpsman and the interpreter.
The former is a combat medic. The last few weeks have been a crash course in combat surgery, but he is still just a medic.
I explain my intentions. The interpreter - a Marine who can read Mandarin out loud and has a translation program on his phone - is puzzled.
"What is reverse triage?" he asks. "For that matter, what is triage?"
"Triage is sorting wounded according to their injuries. Instead I am ordering that we find and treat the Chinese medical personnel who can help us treat the rest."
There are only two things we can do for this groaning pile of Chinese wounded. Get them away from the hospital to help hide the war crime committed here, and get a few of them patched up so that they can continue to help themselves after we leave. Which will have to be soon.
I have said this baldly out loud. Perhaps this is a mistake. But I don't care.
They proceed on their assigned tasks.
One of the patients thanks me in English. This is enough for me to immediately draft him as a second translator.
"We need civilians to bring us medical supplies. We will need to leave soon. After that you are all on your own."
"Why are you helping us?"
"Never mind that."
I start making signs. Huge red crosses.
I recall a tidbit of history and decide that the time has come to resurrect it.
I add three words to the signs, beyond the obvious HOSPITAL and NO WEAPONS and OFF LIMITS TO US MILITARY PERSONNEL.
###
"What is this? What the fuck is this?"
The Army general stops his driver, who stops the vehicle.
The school's entrances have been graffitied in English and in ideograms, both Mandarin and Cantonese.
There are two United States Marines standing at attention in front of the school, eyes front and rifles shouldered. They do not reply.
The General looks again.
"Drive on," he growls finally, and they do.
As the vehicle drives away, the words are visible on the walls.
They carry no legal meaning under the laws of war.
But once again they have prevented an atrocity.
INTERNATIONAL SAFETY ZONE.
