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Chapter 468: The Strongest Field Hospital in Europe

Seeing the other party refuse to budge, simply because he'd arrived a few minutes earlier, Ferdinand sighed, resignedly:

"Major, if you're willing to let me have your spot for admission, I can offer you 500 Florins."

"No, I don't want your money."

"800 Florins."

"Still no..."

Ferdinand gritted his teeth, pulling Hedwig with him as he limped a few steps aside, lowering his voice.

"I can give you three Bulletproof Inserts in exchange for the chance to be admitted."

"Bulletproof Inserts?!" The Major's eyes immediately lit up. He knew those were the mysterious "armor" pieces newly issued to the French army, capable of blocking bullets and saving lives at critical moments!

Ferdinand nodded. "They're brand new."

Hedwig was tempted. The French army kept the Bulletproof Inserts under strict wraps, making them impossible to buy. The few that had appeared in the Austrian army were mostly salvaged by soldiers secretly prying them off fallen Frenchmen.

Seeing his hesitation, Ferdinand had no choice but to grimace and raise his offer again.

"Four pieces. That's all I have."

"Deal," Hedwig finally relented.

He'd seen the Bulletproof Inserts before; four pieces could almost entirely cover his chest. His own injury should hold out for a few more days, and if he waited here at the French field hospital and took an open bed as soon as one became available, he'd likely be fine. But acquiring those Bulletproof Inserts would be like gaining an extra life. The trade was well worth it.

Ferdinand gestured for him to get into the carriage, then took a thick cloth-wrapped bundle from a box and whispered:

"You must be very careful not to let the French army see these."

According to French army regulations, anyone who obtained these items was required to return them. Otherwise, the French would resort to force to reclaim them.

Hedwig opened the cloth bundle and, sure enough, found square, metallic-sheened objects inside — precisely the Bulletproof Inserts issued to the Guards Corps infantry.

He carefully inspected them, confirming all four were intact, then re-wrapped them with delight, momentarily forgetting the pain of his wound.

"You may be admitted now. I wish you a swift recovery."

Ferdinand nodded, a pang of regret in his heart, then turned and exited the carriage.

It was common knowledge that these Bulletproof Inserts could fetch 500 Florins each in the Austrian army, yet they were still priceless rarities. Rumor had it that Marshal Lacy himself had approached General Kellermann of France to request one, but his plea had been denied.

He brushed past Perna and said to the orderly behind her, "We've reached an agreement, Military Doctor. Please admit me now."

The orderly, however, took a peculiar step back, then bowed to Perna and said, "As you can see..."

Perna let out a soft sigh. The low status of women in this era meant she had long grown accustomed to such situations. She turned to Ferdinand. "Please lie down over there. I need to examine your wound and then disinfect it."

Due to the limited bed space in the field hospital, foreign casualties required confirmation of medical necessity before admission.

Ferdinand stared at her in astonishment, then addressed the orderly. "Do your laundresses also examine wounds?"

"Ahem!" The orderly could no longer hold his composure. He said in an unfriendly tone, "Please mind your words! This is Doctor Perna, our head physician!"

"What? She's a military doctor?" Ferdinand's eyes widened. "And the head physician?!"

The orderly gestured behind him. "Doctor Perna founded this field hospital. She is also His Royal Highness the Crown Prince's personal physician."

Perna's face flushed slightly. In truth, the Crown Prince had other personal physicians; she merely used routine check-ups as an excuse to stay close to His Highness.

"This, this..." Ferdinand quickly doffed his cap to Perna. "Please forgive my impertinence, esteemed Doctor."

Even after entering the field hospital, he remained uneasy. He'd offended the head physician here; what if they treated his wounds half-heartedly?

He quickly whispered to his attendant, "Go get 500 Florins and prepare a generous gift. I hope this can appease the doctor's anger."

Soon after, he discovered the field hospital was teeming with female medical personnel, all dressed in white uniforms and small, swallowtail-shaped caps.

Soon, a girl of eighteen or nineteen, with striking, large eyes, approached his bedside. She smiled. "You're not French, are you? Can you understand our language?"

"Yes, I can speak French."

"Oh, that's wonderful," the girl said. "I'm Annabelle, your nurse. Now I'm going to take your temperature."

"Nurse?" Ferdinand repeated the word, taken aback.

"You can think of it as someone who assists the doctors in caring for you," Annabelle explained with a sweet smile. "Now, please open your mouth. Be careful not to bite the Thermometer."

Ferdinand watched her retreating figure, his mind lingering on her vibrant eyes and graceful silhouette.

Ten days later.

Thanks to the meticulous care at the French field hospital, Ferdinand's wound showed no signs of infection and had already begun to scab over.

In truth, there wasn't extensive treatment, just regular wound disinfection and the occasional dose of "Crown Prince's Blessing." Yet, for a wounded soldier of this era, it was considered the pinnacle of medical care.

Doctors in other nations would often bandage wounds with unsterilized bandages — perhaps even ripped from a poor soul who had just succumbed to infection — leading to further complications and widespread infection.

Infections from clothing, bedding, or even water were equally rampant. Essentially, unless a soldier was exceptionally robust, even a minor injury could prove fatal due to infection.

In Perna's field hospital, however, she rigorously adhered to all the directives His Royal Highness the Crown Prince had imparted. Bedding, clothing, and bandages were regularly steam-sterilized; medical instruments were soaked in 75% alcohol; the entire environment was disinfected with alcohol daily; and only cooled boiled water was used for washing wounds and drinking...

As long as no vital organs were damaged, over 70% of the wounded patients recovered. In other countries, that rate was less than 20%.

With Perna's introduction of the Crown Prince's improved Hemostatic Forceps and Fishhook Suture Needles into surgical procedures, this recovery rate was now climbing to 80%.

This high recovery rate fostered greater courage and fearlessness among the soldiers. Everyone believed that a minor injury only meant a few days' stay in the field hospital before full recovery, directly enhancing the combat effectiveness of the Guards Corps.

Moreover, the field hospital occasionally hosted song and dance performances by the nurse girls.

Before joining the Guards Corps, over half of these nurses had worked in the "service" industry. After all, most women of this era were reluctant to enter the medical field, so Perna had to recruit from among those considered "fallen."

As such, most of these girls possessed various talents, often trained in their previous establishments.

For the soldiers, getting injured and admitted to the field hospital had almost become a form of reward.

In a secluded corner of the field hospital, Annabelle sat on Ferdinand's lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, whispering something quietly and occasionally letting out a delicate giggle.

Suddenly, a French Lieutenant with his left arm in a sling burst from behind an adjacent tent, pointing his right hand at the Austrian and roaring furiously, "You scoundrel, let go of Annabelle!"