Berezovo: A Revolutionary Russian Epic

Chevanin’s young face frowned in concentration as he examined the crushed instep. The iron shod wheels of the cart had demolished the media longitudinal arch; blood was pumping spasmodically from the dorsalis pedis artery. Beneath the severed sinews of the tendons, embedded splinters of bone from the metatarsals and cuneiforms winked slyly in the glutinous pulp and he could see the exposed edge of the boat shaped navicular bone. Pressing a pad of cloth firmly against the artery, Chevanin began skilfully to bandage the foot. When he had finished tying off the bandage he pulled a rough blanket from the beneath the couch, and placed it gently under the damaged foot. Raising his eyes, he saw that the men were looking on despondently. He shook his head. There was nothing more he could do; the man was a case for the hospital.

Going to his desk, he wrote two notes: the first to Dr. Tortsov, care of Colonel Izorov at the uchastok; the second to the admissions clerk at the hospital, printing it in large capitals so that the dvornik could read it.

ln all probability, he told himself, with such a severe trauma the man will lose the foot. I have done the best anyone could do. Now he’s a job for the regimental surgeon.

Thrusting the notes into the hand of the man nearest to him he despatched him on his errand. Pointing towards the stretcher that stood against the wall behind the consulting room door, he instructed the other men to lift the injured man onto it. As they obeyed, he went into the dispensary and began preparing a solution of laudanum to dull the man’s pain.

The men worked with a minimum of fuss. The foot was bad: they could see that. As gently as they could, they lifted the unconscious man up and slid the stretcher underneath him. Following Chevanin’s instructions delivered through the hatch in the wall, they took a second blanket and covered him with it, folding it neatly under his chin as if he were a sick child. The man groaned and began to regain consciousness. Working quicker now, they began to fasten the leather restraining straps over the blanket, leaving the one nearest the damaged foot unfastened. Bringing the laudanum through from the dispensary, Chevanin gently lifted the man’s head and poured it between his chattering teeth. The man’s eyes looked up at him and creased in gratitude. With a final nod of thanks, the men bent their backs and carried their unlucky friend out of the consulting room, the buckle at the foot of the stretcher jangling gaily as they passed the curious gaze of a small crowd that had gathered outside the surgery door.

Once they had gone, the dray driver stood up and, throwing away the handrolled cigarette he had been smoking, walked unaided into the consulting room, his left arm hanging uselessly by his side. Motioning the man to strip off his top clothes, Chevanin began to write up his notes. When the man was standing in his trousers and boots, Chevanin pointed towards the single chair that was reserved for the use of patients.

The carter was well built, with the broad chest and strong forearms of a man accustomed to controlling teams of ponies. He sat easily in the chair, his feet spread flat on the ground in the manner of a pugilist resting in his corner between rounds. Chevanin began to circle, his eyes taking in the man’s wide back and short stubby fingers. The man was as silent as a dumb beast; his thick bearded face turned towards the warmth of the stove in the corner of the room. He was content to let the younger man do his work. When Chevanin asked him to waggle his fingers of his left hand he did so uncomplainingly. When the Doctor’s assistant extended his own hand and told him to grip it, he obeyed; his rough, calloused palm easily enveloping Chevanin’s pale smooth fist. Only when Chevanin asked him to raise his arm above his head did the man hesitate and look at him thoughtfully. Then, slowly, he began lifting his arm and at once the pain showed in his eyes, making his nostrils flare and his head jerk to one side as if he were imitating one of his own horses.