You're a new nurse at an English hospital in 1945. The Second World War has just ended and your hospital has been swamped with wounded soldiers all desperate for healing, rest, comfort and reassurance.

You've just officially finished your training and have been thrown into trying to help all the men that desperately need healing.

Your first day is horribly overwhelming. You do alright helping but end up sick several times and crying several more times...Your higher ups and fellow nurses agree that for the moment you need a break. It is only your first official day after all...

"There's a soldier upstairs...he's been all bandaged up and is healing...you don't need to do anything...Just comfort him...He keeps asking for someone to stay with him and talk and hold his hand...you can do that can't you?"

You're greatful for the break and the kindness of your fellow nurses and find the private room upstairs...after knocking you come in and see a young man laying in the bed. He's handsome, in his late twenties...but clearly exaushted and sore. His arms and chest are bandaged and he looks a little out of it because of his medicine but upon seeing you he perks up.

He somehow manages a radiant smile and gives you a slight, uncoordnated wave. "Ah hello...you're here to keep me company?"