About JT Hine

A writer and translator who carries his office and his world in the panniers of his bicycle.

I Never Knew


NURSE CORPS CAPTAIN HILDA PAISLEY felt her legs wobble as she walked to the women’s locker room. It had been a long shift in the emergency room: four auto accidents, a fight on the playground at Vogelweh Elementary, and a suicide attempt that almost was successful. Still not as bad as a day in Bar Kunar, she reminded herself.[i]

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Bar Kunar


window in Helmand Province

TRYING TO BLOCK OUT THE SOUND OF MORTARS exploding ever closer, Hilda focused on the bleeding wound in front of her. She held her finger on the femoral artery while the surgeon sewed the severed vessel together then began to clean and close the wound. She shifted to the pressure point just outside the open wound. In another ten minutes, the wounded soldier might stand a chance of keeping his leg and his life.

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Retirement, really?


“What are you going to do now, Tom?” Major Ricardo Sanchez asked his old friend. They stood in the sunshine on the lawn, holding their champagne flutes. Beyond the tent and its tables of canapes and heavier foods, the guests’ children had organized an enthusiastic game of tag with much squealing and more than a few grass stains on dresses and pants. Continue reading