Salvation Equation - Chapter 22. A Letter From Lan

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{ I don’t know if this letter, written while I was exhausted, will reach you. Isabel and the Countess are very busy. We’re doing our best to negotiate with the bureaucrats and recruit staff.

You probably already know. The fact that Nottingham mansion turned into a hospital, and that I am now training in your mansion.

According to Isabel, she had definitely got your permission in advance, but I don’t know if that’s true. To be honest, I can’t imagine the scene where she asks for your permission. Anyway, the Countess is positive. She’s a great person.

Let’s get to the point. I was relieved to receive your reply. I don’t know if you’ve forgiven my rudeness on that rainy day, but you still sent me a letter. Thank you.

I want to know about you as much as Mr. Nottingham wants to know about me. So where to start?

I am blonde.

Oh yeah. I have nothing to say. I’m not a funny person. It’s arrogant, but I have a bit of confidence in my appearance. It’s proof that I don’t have anything other than that.

I don’t know much about what to do, and I like many things. I don’t think I’m good at socializing, and I don’t think I have an attractive personality. I’ve only gotten a little bit of your attention, but even that has been thrown away.

Once upon a time, I liked to play the piano. I also like to watch movies. I always enjoy visiting new places. I don’t like being alone very much, but having a book is fine. My favorite author is Christopher Marlowe. I like novels. Louis Stevenson, Dickens…. Other than that, I don’t read much. Philosophy and science feel too solemn to me. On the other hand, Isabel reads a wide variety of books. She’s confident she’s more knowledgeable than the gentlemen in Oxford. Everyone needs to acknowledge her more.

With all my respects, Madeline Loenfield. }

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{ I need to correct a misunderstanding. Isabel never asked my permission in the first place. She did it with good intentions, so I just didn’t bother to stop her. She sent me a long letter explaining why it was necessary to have a rehabilitation hospital. Repairing it wasn’t a big deal. In the end, she just wanted to do what she was supposed to do as a patriot.

What was more surprising than that was that you’re doing such a difficult thing. I don’t mean to underestimate what you’re doing. But wouldn’t it be hard? Compassion is a great virtue, but sometimes it’s important not to overdo it.

Are you curious about me? My name is lan Nottingham, I am now a soldier. Isabel says I am a landowner, and I happened to be born into a family that I can inherit the title since young.

I won’t deny it. The title of Count is indeed convenient. Even if you do not have military experience, you can be treated with respect and you can change positions as you wish. Most soldiers don’t enjoy that convenience.

But now, I am a human made of flesh and blood more than anything else, and sometimes even that fact is questionable.

PS: If you like Christopher Marlowe, take a look at the mansion’s (though it is now a hospital) study. 

Ian Nottingham.}

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After the Western Front fell into a stalemate, minor battles ensued. People were slowly starting to accept the fact that this war may not end soon.

In addition, new faces began to arrive one after another at Nottingham Rehabilitation Hospital. After Isabel and the Countess rolled up their sleeves and worked hard to run the hospital, three new volunteers and two doctors and nurses arrived.

News of the conversion of the Nottingham mansion into a hospital was published in the newspapers, and had attracted a lot of support from all over the country.

The first patient arrived in February 1915. He was a patient who received basic treatment in the field, but fragments of anti-aircraft guns tore his face away. When Madeline first saw his scars, it was physiologically hard for her whole body to harden.

However, after a while of learning, she was able to lay him down, check his movements, and wash his body. From collecting urine, changing the positions of the body, and checking the condition.

There was still a sense of lack, but she was able to grasp the sense by confirming the sympathy of the experienced seniors. They need to get rid of the stiff, aristocratic attitude and adopt a more natural and professional attitude. They’ll have to work harder to do that.

Starting with the first patient, people began to be hospitalized one after another. Patients transported across the Strait of Dover. Those who suffered serious injuries to the point of being considered incapable of fighting were the main ones.

People with missing legs, people with missing arms, people with auditory hallucinations, people with broken internal organs….. Madeline was getting used to such people. Rather than being surprised and saddened by the pain in front of her, she would look at what actually needed to be done. It was the power of hard training. The fruit of the effort gained while learning and assisting the treatment of skilled medical staff on the shoulder.

She was clearly growing. She was developing her ability to empathize with others, step by step, without realizing it.

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Amidst the seemingly obscure war situation, Madeline received a letter stating that Ian was heading south of France. It was surprising that the letter was delivered so well in this situation. Of course, as he said, ‘the officer’s green envelope’ might have been the power.

As they exchanged letters, Madeline realized she was unwittingly expecting his letter.

The weeks not receiving lan’s letter was difficult.

As an introvert when she was young, she did not get along well with her peers, and she has always looked forward to a letter friend. As she read literature, she wished she had a mysterious friend for herself too.

It was probably the thing she wanted the most. It’s not about a marriage proposal or a weird confession of love, it’s about a relationship that gently permeated.

Chatting with Isabel and her colleagues, nagging her father (though  he was little by little), studying in the library. Such daily life was her stronghold that supported her during the war.

However, the more they exchanged letters, the more anxiety and pain boiled inside.

Unable to stop Ian’s coming fate, she was anxious to see him walk into hell.

But she decided not to pour out her anxiety into the letter. It was the best thing she could do.

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