THE week before I flew into Basra, in southern Iraq, the field hospital had dealt with three fatalities.
One soldier was killed by a sniper, another hit by a roadside bomb, and the third died in a road accident.
Staff at the main British hospital were still shaken, but a week later the hospital - on the Shaibah base - was eerily quiet.
Before the visit, I couldn't imagine how a tent on a dilapidated and dusty base in the middle of a desert, could resemble a hospital, but it was remarkable.
Stepping through the tent flaps, there was a long, white, arrow-straight tube that stretched to what looked like infinity. Branching off the corridor at regular intervals were more white-tented rooms with beds, stretchers, x-ray machines and all the necessary equipment to save a life in the desert.
The hospital specialises in trauma injuries, but the same tent also provides dental, GP and physiotherapy services.
Soldiers who are wounded in the field are brought in by ambulance or helicopter, stabilised and then flown back to the UK if they need more treatment.
The doctor, Lieutenant Colonel Bob Duncan, 38, from Kirby Hill, near Richmond, North Yorkshire, is in charge of coalition medical provision in Iraq.
He said the field hospital, staffed by a unit from York, was as good as any regional hospital in the UK.
Over six months, 460 medical staff will be stationed in the coalition-controlled southern Iraq.
"The majority of patients are admitted to hospital for routine sicknesses unrelated to battle.
"There is a constant background of danger, but we really look after our troops. If you arrive at this hospital alive, then the chance of survival is really good," said Lt Col Duncan.
Major David Luke, 30, from Durham, is a junior surgeon. He said: "Work out here is similar to the UK, but it is a lot more personal because it is a close-knit community. It can be shocking and people do get upset, but you have to be professional."
Private Chris Purvis, 32, from Gateshead, deals with patients as they check in.
He said: "Last week I saw my first death out here, it was a 22-year-old. We were told to write up everything, what we did, what we could do better and how we felt about it. I stayed up until 4am and wrote 1,500 words."
Staff at the hospital face a constant battle against the dust and the weather - and all the soldiers, doctors included, help out with the cleaning.
There is little for hospital staff to do but wait. But when it is quiet for the medical team, it is good news for the troops.
Corporal Lisa Whelan, 31, from Leadgate, County Durham, works in anaesthetics, surgery and recovery.
"You have to kill to boredom. It is like the TV programme Scrubs out here. We are a small team, all about the same age, and we know each other really well. A lot of practical jokes go on.
"The other day, we filled one of the surgeon's clogs with KY jelly. We also sewed a nursing badge on to one of the doctor's berets, and when one of the girls nipped out to the shower, we stole her bed," she said.
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