5. Ratchet

Oure chief doctore was skilled, true,
but hadde little zeale for plowing through

his duties. For though compasionne
he hadde, and concerne, of a fasionne

that byrned lyke a steadie flayme,
Ratchet (for that wasse his nayme)

did notte lyke to waite for eache casualtie
to be wheeled into his surgeyorie,

or count the evere-mounting tolle
of brutal bataille. Ygainst protocoole

he woulde ventuore out into thee fielde
without compaignie, his nyrves steeled

to save what lyfes he thoughte he coulde
through his intereferense. Though shrewde

he wasse not, and anie fronte line
needes a medic who is lesse sanguine

(and whose bedside manere is, welle, more
seriouse - lesse flippante, cokkesure)

he was, without doubte, moste courageouse.
He was not, as he seemed eager to stresse,

through forayes beyonde haven's parapet,
expendable, but quyte the opposite.