This is toward the beginning of the novella, Angel in Green, the third and final story in the Love and War anthology.
In this scene Lieutenant Elena Roberts is watching medevac helicopters approaching the bases landing area to discharge wounded soldiers.
Sliding to a stop outside her quarters, she glanced around. Her eyes brightened, seeing people were running everywhere. She looked toward the helipad. The sight of the copters getting ready to land kicked her into a ground-covering run.
The first of many helicopters had barely reached the camp as she stepped up onto the red, hard-packed earth. She didn’t have to look around to know the orderlies and other personal were standing ready around the Jeeps and ambulances. Engines rumbled, waiting to transport the injured, under her direction, to the hospital. Time was always a factor. Speed equaled living. Sloppiness might mean death for someone’s son, husband, brother—a thought she couldn’t tolerate.
The staff had learned long ago to stay out of her way. They followed close behind, listening intently to her directions. Many times the wounded weren’t yet off the copters before she’d assigned them a triage number. Orderlies lined stretchers along the edge of the helipad to await their turn for transportation.
“Looks like it’s gonna be a long day,” she mumbled, to herself as she cast a look skyward, shielding her dark green eyes against the bright late afternoon sun. Copters filled the cloudless blue sky. Sunlight reflecting off Plexiglas windshields of the Huey medevac copters added surreal quality to the scene.
“What was that, Lieutenant Roberts?” an all–too-familiar voice asked.
She glanced over her shoulder and groaned inwardly. Outwardly, she turned and saluted. “Morning, Captain Campbell. Nothing, sir.” There he stood in his meticulously ironed and starched khaki uniform. Doesn’t this idiot know never to wear that uniform around here? Makes him a perfect target for snipers, especially with his captain’s bars sparkling in the sun.