Front Line Nurse

by Rosie James

  ‘Of course the perfect candidate, then,’ Matron said. ‘Am I to assume you are referring to Angelina Green?’

  ‘I am,’ the senior nurse said slowly.

  ‘So, you have two months to try and prepare Nurse Green for what lies ahead of her,’ Matron said. ‘I have been asked to release six altogether,’ she added, ‘so wish me luck that I can produce another five of equal calibre.’

  Chapter 11

  As soon as she had her next day off, Angelina went straight to the orphanage with her great news. She was going to war!

  As usual, the front door was opened by Mrs Marshall. ‘Goodness me, have you run all the way here?’ she asked. ‘You look quite hot and bothered.’

  ’Hello Mrs Marshall – is it possible for me to see Miss Kingston?’ Angelina said. ‘I won’t keep her long because I’m back on night duty at six.’

  ‘She is here, having her afternoon cup of tea,’ Mrs Marshall said, leading Angelina long the corridor towards the superintendent’s study. ‘Miss Jones is here as well. I’m sure they will both be pleased that you’ve called in.’

  At that moment, the study door opened and Maria Jones emerged, a file under her arm. Her eyes lit up when she saw Angelina.

  ‘Angelina! How lovely to see you!’ she exclaimed. She turned back briefly. ‘Miss Kingston, guess who’s here!’

  The superintendent immediately joined the small group, and automatically gave Angelina a brief hug. ‘Well, this calls for another pot of tea,’ she said. ‘Would you mind, Mrs Marshall?’

  Nodding, Mrs Marshall departed, while the other three went back into the superintendent’s study and sat down.

  ‘Now, I have a funny feeling that you’ve got something special to tell us, Angelina,’ Emma Kingston said. ‘Let me guess … you’ve become Matron at St Thomas’s! I knew it wouldn’t take you long!’

  Angelina smiled broadly. ‘I know you’ve always had great faith in me, Miss Kingston,’ she said, ‘but no, I’m not Matron yet.’ She took a deep breath. ‘What I’ve come to tell you is that I am being sent to France to nurse the wounded, and I can’t wait because I’ve never been anywhere but England – as you know, Miss Kingston – and although I’m a bit frightened, I’m also really excited! It will be a whole new world for me, something I never expected!’

  Emma Kingston looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘When do you go, Angelina?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, at first they told us to be prepared to leave in August,’ Angelina said, ‘but apparently the war is so terrible that plans have been pushed forward and now we are to leave at the very end of June – in just a couple of weeks! I hope I remember to pack everything I may need over there,’ she added.

  Emma Kingston smiled inwardly. Angelina Green wouldn’t forget a single thing. ‘How many of you are to go?’ the superintendent asked soberly. ‘I take it there are to be a number of you?’

  ‘Yes, six of us are going from St Thomas’s,’ Angelina replied. ‘I didn’t know any of them before, but we’ve had a group meeting and the others seem really nice. I was the only one selected from my ward.’

  ‘And have you been given any idea exactly where you are going, or what you may find when you get there?’ the superintendent asked quietly.

  ‘Not really,’ Angelina said. ‘We know we’re going to France to one of the battlefield hospitals, and that there will be large numbers of wounded soldiers arriving all the time. But it will all become clear when we actually get there. Patching up bleeding wounds won’t be too much bother for me because the medical ward I’ve been working on for months has been very good experience.’

  Maria Jones had not spoken a word as she absorbed all that Angelina was saying. Now, she said, ‘And how does Ruby feel about this? I imagine she is a bit upset that you are leaving, isn’t she?’

  Angelina shook her head quickly. ‘No, Ruby wishes she was coming too and is nearly as excited as I am! Fancy going to a foreign country! I expect this will be my only chance to travel – and of course, I am sorry that it’s because of the war, but it will be a huge experience which I will take with me for the rest of my life! Fortunately, when our landlord heard I would not be living at home for a bit, and the reason for it, he said it didn’t matter about my rent not being paid for a while, that there were more important things to consider when there was a war on.’ Angelina finished the last of her tea before adding, ‘Anyway, Ruby has been given quite a big pay rise, and she’s not worried at all about handling everything without me there.’

  Angelina stood up to leave. ‘I’d better go,’ she said. ‘I won’t bother to return home for a meal, I’ll have something in the canteen. Then I’m on a twelve-hour shift – so wish me a quiet night!’

  Emma Kingston felt pride bubbling up in her chest. What a long way this little scrap had come in her life.

  ‘Promise that you’ll write and tell us how you are, and how you are getting on over there, Angelina,’ the superintendent said, standing to give her another hug.

  ‘Of course I will write to you. And anyway, I don’t expect I’ll be gone all that long.’

  Maria Jones moved over and took both Angelina’s hands in her own. ‘Promise that you will take great care of yourself, my dear, won’t you?’ she said softly. ‘And don’t worry about little Ruby. I will make sure she doesn’t feel neglected.’

  It was with some surprise that Angelina saw tears well up in Maria Jones’s eyes. Not much of that kind of emotion went on at the Garfield, but Miss Jones had always been a bit different from any of the others. She was always kind and full of sympathy even over minor mishaps any of the orphans experienced, while Miss Kingston, though never anything but gentle, was more business-like and pragmatic. After all, she had been in sole charge of an orphanage for a very long time. She could not afford to weep too many tears, and certainly not in public.

  Angelina squeezed Maria Jones’s hand in return. ‘Of course I will take great care of myself, Miss Jones,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t think I will be expected to handle a gun or anything too dangerous! I’ll be well away from the fight! And thank you very much for offering to keep an eye on Ruby.’ Angelina smiled. Ruby had always been a special favourite of Maria Jones.

  Saturday 1st July, 1916

  ‘Oh, I feel ghastly! I want to go back … I want to go home! I hope I’m given a nice comfy bed to recover on.’

  Angelina glanced at her new friend, Heather, as they got off the boat which had just brought them over the channel. It had been rather a choppy crossing and several of the nurses had been sick. ‘Cheer up,’ Angelina said, ‘I’m sure there’s a nice cup of tea waiting for us.’

  ‘I’d rather settle for a glass of champagne,’ said Jane, the other friend Angelina had palled up with. ‘I wonder if they’ll throw a cocktail party to greet us.’

  Angelina looked at her briefly. Of course Jane was joking, but of all the nurses, she was the one who stood out as very rich, and rather posh, sometimes giving the impression that she was far superior to anyone else. Apparently, she lived with her parents in a big house in Surrey and had always gone to a private school. So champagne and cocktail parties would be commonplace for her, Angelina thought. Jane had never bothered to enquire about Heather or Angelina’s background, the few chats they’d had together so far being all about Jane. Well, Angelina thought, whatever had happened to any of them in the past, for the foreseeable future they were all to be in exactly the same boat and she hoped Jane realised what she’d done in agreeing to do war service after just a few months’ training.

  ‘It was so boring at home,’ Jane had said once on the boat. ‘There was never anything to do, so on a whim I started at St Thomas’s.’

  Now, the small group made their way towards the line of trucks waiting to drive the latest contingent of relief workers to the field hospital, and Angelina looked up at the soldier escorting them

  ‘Am I hearing thunder or is that guns?’ she asked innocently.

  ‘That, Miss, is bombardment,’ the man
said cheerfully. ‘There’s a terrible “how do ye do” going on at the moment – has been for days; guns and guns and more guns. Theirs and ours. They’re not very far off and it’s noisy, innit? We’ll all be stone deaf at the end of this lot. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it, you’ll get used to the whole damn thing.’

  For the first time since she’d been told she was to go to the war zone, Angelina felt a shiver of panic run down her spine. Although they had been given some details about the situation they would find themselves in, she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on it. She’d dwelt on the glorious fact that she had been one of the chosen ones to go over and do her bit and it had made her feel important, special. She’d focused on all the details concerning her departure from England – what to take, what to leave behind, last minute goodbyes to friends and colleagues. But now they were here, walking on French soil. And, within a few hours, if what they’d been told was true, she and the others would be seeing things only the devil could have devised.

  It was a long drive to their destination, and to the wooden huts which were the nurses’ living quarters. Their room had six camp beds, and Jane was the first to collapse down onto one of them.

  ‘Oh deary me,’ she said. ‘No springs on this, I’m afraid, and a very coarse blanket! But thank God we’re stationary at last. Where’s that cup of tea you mentioned, Angelina?’

  Presently, with Red Cross ambulances coming and going, and with the constant, thunderous boom of not so distant guns in their ears, the girls were shown to the field canteen. After a meal of bread and ham and beetroot, and the much longed for mugs of tea, they were taken to the hospital where they’d be working until at least Christmas, so they’d been told. As they approached, Angelina’s eyes widened.

  The hospital was a long, brown, tented construction, much bigger than she’d imagined it would be, with the Union Jack fluttering defiantly above the entrance. And as they entered, a young doctor came forward.

  ‘Greetings, and welcome to hell,’ he said, giving them a crooked smile. ‘Needless to say, we are very thankful to have you here. My name is Dr Lewis – you can call me Sam – and you are …?’

  The girls each gave their names, and Dr Lewis promptly said, ‘I won’t remember any of that, of course, so all you’ll hear is me regularly yelling for a nurse. So be prepared! Unfortunately for you, the war has been at full height for many days and shows no sign of stalling. In fact, the expected advance is now in progress, which means that casualties will be coming in, in waves. We expect another train load any time.’ He shrugged wearily. ‘The only advice I can give you is to use your skills whenever and wherever you see the need. That’s how it works. But there are several doctors here on and off, so don’t be afraid to ask. The operating theatre is the tent behind this one – you will be needed there from time to time.’

  Before he could say any more Angelina put up her hand.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said, feeling slightly silly to be asking a simple question, ‘but where exactly are we? I mean, I know we’re somewhere in France, but …’

  Well, how was she expected to know? She had never been anywhere but London in her life before, and any details they’d been given about their whereabouts had been sparse.

  Dr Lewis paused briefly. ‘Roughly speaking, we’re close to the valley of the Somme,’ he said, ‘and while I believe it is an enchanting place under normal circumstances, I personally do not want to get any nearer to it than we are at the moment. In other words, Nurse Green, we are all in the front line of this cursed affair.’

  He smiled kindly at her, and she was surprised that he’d remembered her name. She would not have known that, of the six new recruits, it had been her open gaze and bright, interested expression that he’d noticed as they’d introduced themselves. It had looked to him, even during those few seconds, that this young nurse was ready to get involved straightaway, like a child at sports day waiting for the signal to start running the race.

  ‘So now you know where you are, let me give you a short tour of the wards,’ Dr Lewis said. ‘Follow me.’

  Angelina liked Dr Lewis. He’d held nothing back and was the sort of person you could trust. He wasn’t very old, she thought, probably in his twenties, but he looked tired, and held an air of resignation.

  The six nurses followed obediently behind him, through another flapped doorway and along towards the main entrance to the wards.

  At first sight, Angelina thought she was in the middle of a terrible nightmare as moans and groans and shouting and cursing met their ears. There seemed to be one long ward which went on and on for miles, and which was sectioned off in various places by screens. And along each side were rows and rows of beds, all close together, every one of them occupied. The nurses on duty barely looked up at the visitors, though a couple did give a brief wave of the hand.

  ‘Sorry it’s a bit noisy,’ Dr Lewis said, glancing at the girls. ‘A lot of it’s thanks to shellshock and gassing – but you’ll get used to the din.’ He paused. ‘We do our best,’ he said quietly, ‘and sometimes our best is good enough.’

  Angelina swallowed hard. It was true that occasionally they’d had some delirious patients on the medical ward at St Thomas’s, but nothing like this! This was like being in a mental asylum – but these patients were not mad, they were soldiers who’d been fit men before they joined up. And now they were helpless and pathetic, some calling for their mothers over and over again. It was heartbreaking to listen to, and Angelina wanted to cover her ears. But she stopped herself. She was a nurse, here to do her duty, and she would never show any sign of weakness – never!

  Well, she would try not to …

  They followed the doctor through to each ward as he explained everything to them – the section for the medical cases, the one for patients awaiting surgery, those who were on the point of death – and despite all her good intentions, Angelina admitted that it was almost too much to take in. Where on earth did you start in such places? The only wards she’d known were kept strictly clean – and she should know because she’d had more than one turn at scrubbing beds and floors and lavatories, ‘No death by infection here!’ the senior nurse had often declared. But this hospital in France looked anything but clean to Angelina. How could it be, with blood staining every sheet, every bandaged head wet and oozing pus, with dazed patients suddenly sitting up and trying to grab at their dressings, coughing and spitting? How could you possibly ensure hygiene in these circumstances? And the smell … the smell was like nothing Angelina had ever experienced.

  At last, they got to the end of the wards, and Dr Lewis said casually, ‘The operating theatre is here at the end, and across the road is the mortuary. Full up at the moment, as it happens. We’re waiting for the burial crew to arrive because more mortuary space will undoubtedly be needed in the next day or so.’

  As they’d been walking through the wards one or two of the nurses had asked simple questions relating to where any equipment they might need was stored, but Jane wanted to know something else.

  ‘How long are our shifts likely to be, Dr Lewis?’

  He shrugged. ‘As long as we need you, I’m afraid,’ he said simply. ‘But don’t worry too much about that. You will be given time off, of course, but for obvious reasons that’s bound to be patchy.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘What I do suggest is that you all get a good night’s sleep so that you can report here in the morning at six o’clock to take over from the nurses you are replacing. They are going home tomorrow, lucky things.’

  Chapter 12

  Angelina hardly slept a wink that night. The sights and sounds of those wards had ground themselves into her brain with such intensity that she had to creep outside to the latrines to be sick. But she wasn’t sick. She just waited there for several minutes, taking deep breaths until the horrible feeling had passed.

  She pressed her lips together tightly, cross with herself. They hadn’t even begun their mission, yet, so she could hardly afford to fall at the first fenc
e. Imagine being sent home as unfit for duty! That thought was enough, and Angelina was never again to experience the slightest form of any illness while in France.

  The night was dark, and it was starting to rain again as she began to make her way back to the hut, almost bumping into Heather who was on her own way to the toilets.

  ‘Couldn’t you sleep either?’ Heather said quietly. ‘I’ve been tossing and turning, and those beds! They’re like rocks!’

  Angelina agreed, smiling. ‘When we get back home, the ones at St Thomas’s will make us feel we’re sleeping on gossamer.’ She nodded briefly towards their hut. ‘None of the others seem to be having any trouble sleeping,’ she said.

  ‘Especially not Jane!’ Heather said. ‘She’s right next to me and she’s been snoring all night!’

  ‘Yes, I’ve been listening to her,’ Angelina said. ‘We were all too tired to talk much last night, but did you really expect to see such appalling things, Heather? Such appalling injuries? I have to admit, it shook me a bit. I couldn’t help wondering if I should have been chosen to come over here at all. What possible use can I be to those men? Most of them are in the worst state you could ever imagine, aren’t they?’

  Heather nodded. ‘I’m with you there, Angelina,’ she said, ‘but my father served as a medical officer in the Boer war, and when he knew I was coming over he told me that I mustn’t think of the dreadful things I may see as being suffered by real men. He said that I should think of it as handling models to be practised on. And that you must shut your ears to any noise they’re making and get the job done as quickly and painlessly as possible.’

  Angelina turned to go, pulling her coat more closely around her. ‘Thanks for sharing that advice, Heather,’ she said. ‘I’ll see if it works for me.’

  Four days later …