But that victory, the victory that would mark the liberal triumph over D. Miguel’s regime, would for me – and for so many others, after all – have a bitter taste.
The order to attack came immediately after the first sunlight, and with the awareness that we had the advantage this time, we fought fiercely, urged on by the belief that we could not loose. But even when you win, it is impossible that in a battle men from both sides don’t have to fall.
Diogo and I fought side by side all day long and it was already starting to get dark when in a risky move Diogo was shot in his abdomen. He let out an almost inaudible moan and fell, bending over the wound. «Diogo», I exclaimed in a frightened voice. I shouted to some of the soldiers to cover my rear and as fast as I could, I ran to him and dragged him behind the front lines, so that he wouldn’t be so exposed, now that he couldn’t defend himself. His shirt was stained with blood and his face was excessively pale and covered in beads of sweat. He was conscious and from the way his features were contorted, I realized the pain must have been unbearable. «Diogo...» «Don’t worry about me», he said. «I’ll be alright... Keep on fighting...»
But all I wanted was for that battle to be over so that I could take Diogo to the hospital. I admit I even wished for the Duke to order a retreat, although I knew that would be impossible, since we had the advantage. From that moment on, it was no more to protect my life or the liberal cause that I fought. All that mattered was keeping Diogo safe until the battle was over. When the miguelites finally surrendered, I carried Diogo to the convent with the help of Luís, another soldier. When we arrived, several soldiers had already been brought and the girls were busy. Eugénia, who saw us arrive, helped us lay Diogo in one of the beds of the room she was in. Luís went to fetch more wounded. «Where is Maria da Luz?», I asked Eugénia. «She is in that bedroom», she replied, pointing to one of the doors that led to another room with more wounded. «Do you want me to go get her?» «No, thank you, Eugénia. I’ll go».
I entered the room that Eugénia had pointed and saw my sister cutting the sleeve of the soldier in the farthest bed, so that the surgeon could treat his wounded arm. Luz turned around at the sound of my steps. She smiled when she saw that I was unhurt but soon became pale as she realized that if Diogo wasn’t with me, it was because something was wrong. I looked at the womb that harboured my future nephew. My sister’s pregnancy was well advanced.
In the beginning, Luz had faced some problems with the Sisters, but the Mother Superior had been understanding and had let her stay.
Since Diogo had been hit, I had been struggling with how to tell my sister the news in a way that the shock wouldn’t harm her or the child. Maria da Luz finished what she was doing and came to meet me. «Pedro...», she said in a trembling voice. «Where is Diogo?» «Diogo has been wounded», I said. «Come, I’ll take you to him».
Luz followed me silently to Diogo’s bed, where he was breathing heavily. Maria da Luz caressed his face and he opened his eyes. «Luz...» «Don’t talk», she commanded. She unbuttoned his shirt and his trousers and the look of the wound seemed to worry her. «Well?» I asked. «You think they can fix him?» Maria da Luz stepped away from Diogo’s bed and signalled me to follow her. Then she declared: «It’s not the first time I see a case like Diogo’s. It will be very hard for the surgeon to extract the bullet and even if he can do it... He has already lost so much blood...» «What are you trying to say? That he is going to die?» «I don’t know, I don’t know...», she said, and she looked completely lost. «Where is the surgeon?», I asked. «I don’t know...» «I’ll take you to him», said Eugénia, who had heard us talking.
Eugénia took me to the bedroom where the surgeon was. He was treating a soldier who had been wounded in his leg. He recognized me as the brother of one of his nurses and smiled when I approached him. «Hello, Pedro. Are you looking for your sister?» «No, doctor. I need your help. Diogo...» «Diogo has been wounded?», he interrupted. «Just let me finish binding this leg. I will see him right away».
The few seconds that Dr. Rocha took to bind the soldier’s leg felt like an eternity to me. Finally, he finished and said: «Let’s go see your friend, then. Where is he?» I led him to the room where Diogo was. Although conscious, Diogo had his eyes closed and occasionally, he’d stir and let out a feeble moan. Maria da Luz had already cleaned the wound and was now trying to stop the bleeding, without much success. The surgeon approached him, took a few moments to look at the wound and said with a grave expression: «The internal bleeding is almost certainly very serious. I don’t want to mislead you. Under normal circumstances, cases like Diogo’s don’t even go through me because they are considered lost cases and because when I take a case like that, I could be taking care of others with treatable wounds. But Diogo has become a personal friend lately and he is the Father of the child of Maria da Luz, whose help has been invaluable... Although I don’t think he can recover, I will try to extract the bullet and... I will pray for a miracle».
Dr. Rocha didn’t need to measure his words because Diogo’s semi-conscious state wouldn’t let him fully understand what we were saying.
When I heard that only a miracle – like the doctor himself had said – could make Diogo survive, I felt lost. If Diogo died... – Diogo, for whose friendship, deep down, I had become a liberal – It would be as if despite the miguelites’ surrender, the war had never happened and we had achieved nothing. I recalled the time when I was a child and all I wanted was to share Christmas dinner with Diogo. Deep down, it had been for things as simple as that I had been a part of that war: so that Diogo and I could truly be friends, and not master and servant anymore. Now that Diogo was lying on that bed, waiting to die, it all seemed to have been in vain. We would never have a chance to enjoy together what we had fought for.
But it occurred to me that I was being selfish. After all, Maria da Luz had much greater cause to be desperate and yet, there she was, unwavering, almost refusing to let anyone go to her with words of comfort. «Maria da Luz», the surgeon said «I would rather not have you assist me as I extract the bullet. I know you never let your emotions get in the way of your job helping me, but as I’m sure you understand, in this case, I would rather have someone else assisting me». Luz accepted the surgeon’s advice but she insisted on being present during the procedure.
Dr. Rocha approached Diogo. «Diogo, can you hear me?» Diogo opened his eyes and nodded “yes” with his head. «We are going to extract the bullet». «It’s useless...» «I don’t want to lie to you. You may well be right and since it’s going to be a painful procedure, I think you should decide if you want to go through it». Diogo looked at me and then gazed at Maria da Luz, whose eyes seemed to beg him to not surrender himself to death without, at least, trying. With great difficulty, Diogo replied: «I won’t give up without a fight... for fear of not being able to stand... the pain».
After Diogo had given his consent, I asked two of our fellows in arms to help me hold him while the surgeon was doing his work. Luz asked Eugénia to assist Dr. Rocha, for although all the others were very competent, my sister trusted no one else to take care of Diogo.
Usually, when it was necessary to perform the kind of procedure that Diogo was going to be subjected to, you tried to numb the patient with strong drinks, but in the case of Diogo, it wasn’t possible to wait that long and so, after making him bite on a roll of clean bandage, Dr. Rocha immediately started working.
At first, Diogo endured the pain by clenching his teeth and fists. His lips were trembling and sweat was rolling from his forehead to his eyes. Dr. Rocha was sweating too. For a moment, I was sure that Diogo would survive, that God would not allow that all of our efforts and all of Diogo’s torment would be in vain. But Diogo was moaning now, and violently contorting. It was hard for the two soldiers and me to keep him still. Seeing Diogo’s suffering, Luz let out a distressed yell and rushed to make Dr. Rocha stop what he was doing. Luckily, Eugénia’s hands were free and she was able to hold her. Luz kept kicking and screaming and her screams were making me loose the strength that I needed to keep Diogo still. Feeling that my voice was failing me, I asked: «Take her away, please take her away...» Two other nurses who were close by took her from Eugénia’s arms and forced her to leave the room, despite her protests.
When the surgeon finally managed to extract the bullet, Diogo’s eyes looked like glass. He had no strength left to struggle, but he still moaned softly.
After he finished, Dr. Rocha thanked the soldiers, who removed themselves from the room after expressing to me their wishes for Diogo’s recovery. «All I could do has been done», the surgeon said. «From the way you speak, I’d say there isn’t much hope». «You knew that before the surgery». «Yes, I’m trying to accept that, but I can’t help but hope». «And you should. My power to save is limited, but there are no limits to God».
The surgeon left us to go take care of other cases and Eugénia too went to look after other patients. I approached Diogo, who was still moaning almost inaudibly. I put my hand over his to see if there was any reaction. Diogo opened his eyes and then closed them again. His breathing was heavy. I remembered that Maria da Luz was still waiting to know the result of the surgery and I went looking for her. I found her sitting in a bench in the convent’s garden, in the company of one of the Sisters. Her eyes were red from crying, but she was much calmer now than when she had tried to interrupt Dr. Rocha. When she saw me, she rose and asked: «Well?» «Dr. Rocha didn’t give us much hope... but he said that there’s nothing God can’t do. Right, Sister?» «God knows what he’s doing», she replied. «Even if sometimes we don’t understand it and so we suffer». «I’m sure he’ll live...» «Yes», Luz replied. «You are sure and you will be sure until the end. You have a soldier’s heart and they cling to life – theirs and the others’ – until it is completely over. But I’m a woman, a nurse, and I love Diogo... And I know when it is not wise to hope anymore». «I’ll leave you alone», the Sister said. Before she left, she said to Maria da Luz: «Remember what I told you. Whatever happens, God will have done the best for Diogo».
I thought better not to reply, for I was afraid I couldn’t be honest without offending the Sister. «Come on», Luz said. «I want to see Diogo».
I followed Luz to the room where he was. My sister wiped the sweat from his forehead and face. I thought I should leave them alone and I was going to leave, but my sister stopped me. «Stay», she said.
Diogo was conscious but still exhausted from the surgery.
A soldier came in and whispered something in my ear. Then, he left.
«Diogo», I called. He probably knew he was going to die. It was only fair that he knew our cause had won. Diogo looked at me, waiting to hear what I had to say. «D. Miguel has surrendered. Finally, the Charter is going to become a reality». Diogo smiled and his expression seemed to be of relieve. «Then», he said, «my death... won’t be... in vain». «Don’t talk like that», Luz asked.
Diogo smiled again, lifted his arm and caressed my sister’s face. Then, he put his hand over her my sister’s womb.
My friends torment still lasted two more days and two more nights, during which neither Luz nor I slept more than four or five hours, for we were always close to his bed. As I hoped for a miracle, Luz tried to make the last moments of the Father of her child as comfortable as possible.
When Diogo finally expired, Luz sobbed for hours with her head on my shoulder. I let her cry but I was too angry to find any words of comfort. «I fear for you», she said, still leaning on my shoulder. «There’s no need. The war is over. The same won’t happen to me». «That’s not what I’m talking about. Diogo told me you had plans for the future. That you wanted to work and by a piece of land. It was what he intended too, to buy a small modest piece of land where we could build a house and raise our child. But now that he’s dead, I feel that you don’t really have any will to live...»
I saw what she meant. The war was over and if we were still there it was only because D. Pedro had thought it better not to demobilize the troops before he had obtained D. Miguel’s formal surrender. In fact, like Luz had said, when we left the Roseiral, both Diogo and I had plans for the future; for when what we were going to fight for became a reality. But as time went on, I had become so caught up in the war that I had virtually forgotten there was a life beyond it. Anyway, now that Diogo was dead, none of the things I had fought for seemed to matter. To be honest, I even wished I had never left the Roseiral or even heard about D. Pedro’s Constitutional Charter, for maybe that meant Diogo was still alive. Luz must have realized what I was feeling, for she took my hands and said: «You mustn’t regret anything. Diogo fought for what he believed in and would have fought even if you had stayed behind. I hurt as much as you do – maybe more – but I’m glad that he always had you at his side in his struggle and I know how that was important to him. Besides, the days that I spent here with the two of you were the happiest of my life. I know that you were happy too, and Diogo wasn’t any less happy than either of us. I’m sure that wherever he is, he doesn’t regret anything either». «Deep down, I know you are right», I said. «But I can’t help but feel angry...» «And you think I don’t feel that too? But I know Diogo would want me to be strong to raise our child. And I’m sure he’d also want you to go thought with your live as if he was still alive». «I’m so tired...», I said, leaning my head back as if searching for some inexistent support. «You should cry. It would do you good». «It’s funny», I said, smiling with nostalgia. «Diogo told me once that I should learn how to cry. It’s funny that you are telling me the same».
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