Battle Ensign

by Thomas E. Lightburn

‘I’m Sister O’Malley, are you related to Laura?’

  ‘No, a close friend,’ Manley answered.

  ‘Have you come far, or shouldn’t I ask?’

  ‘About two hundred miles,’ Manley replied.

  ‘Well, now, it’s way past visiting hours,’ Sister O’Malley replied, ‘but I’m sure we can bend the rules for you.’ Turning to the nurses, she said, ‘You two carry on with bed making, and stop gawking.’ After giving Manley a quick, bashful glance, the nurses turned away and walked down the ward.

  ‘Is Laura expecting you, Commander?’ asked the sister.

  ‘No, I want to surprise her, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention my name. Just say a friend is here to see her,’ Manley replied.

  ‘Very well, if that’s what you want,’ Sister O’Malley replied, ‘and are you aware what has happened to her?’

  ‘Yes,’ Manley said, ‘before I came in, I met a Mr Frobisher who told me she had lost part her leg just above her left ankle. How is she bearing up?’

  ‘She’s doing well, considering what she’s gone through,’ the sister answered. ‘Now, wait here while I go and see her, and tread softly, she’s still rather weak.’

  ‘Thank you, Sister, I understand,’ Manley replied.

  She turned and hurried down the ward and stopped outside a side door. After knocking gently, she went inside.

  As the door closed Manley glanced around the ward that smelt strongly of antiseptic. Ten beds and lockers rested on either side of a rectangular shaped ward.

  Central heating was provided by small pipes discretely placed on the floor behind the beds. The walls were painted in pastel green and shiny brown linoleum covered the floor. At the end of the ward, next to the bathroom, stood a set of white curtained screens. In the centre of the ward, a tall glass vase containing long stemmed red and yellow roses resting in the middle of a well-polished oak table, added a touch of homeliness to the impersonal surroundings.

  Ear phones and an emergency chord hung behind each bed. Two patients lay in bed with their legs encased in plaster of Paris, suspended on a series of traction pulleys. A few patients lay in bed asleep. Others, wearing an assortments of dressing gowns, sat on armchairs. They stopped talking and stared inquisitively at Manley, no doubt wondering why he was there.

  The side door opened and Sister O’Malley beckoned him inside. The room was small, but well equipped. At the foot of the bed hung a chart showing Laura’s temperature, blood pressure and pulse. Then came a dressing table, wardrobe, chairs and a door leading into a bathroom, tiled in white. The floor was covered in pale green carpet and the blackout curtains were drawn across a solitary window.

  Laura was sitting on a tall, wing-backed chair reading an Everybody’s magazine. Close by was a white enamel locker on which rested two books and a glass tumbler, inverted over a water carafe. Under a pale green dressing gown, she wore a pink nightdress. As the door opened, she looked up. Upon seeing Manley, a startled expression came into her eyes. She dropped the magazine and her hands shot to her face.

  ‘My God, it’s you,’ she cried. ‘I told father I…’

  Manley quickly interrupted her, and kneeling by her side, took hold of her hands and said, ‘But, darling, not hearing from you was driving me insane, I was sick with worry and had to see you.’ As he spoke, he couldn’t help but notice the left, lower part of her night dress was empty, in sharp contrast to the fluffy, pink slipper on her right foot. He also noticed that she had lost weight and her face was pale and drawn. Her auburn hair, normally worn in a neat chignon, hung loose around her shoulders, and the dark smudges under the lovely violet eyes he had dreamt about so often, showed the strain she was under.

  ‘I must look a mess,’ she said, touching her hair, while averting his gaze. ‘I thought you wouldn’t want to see me like this, a cripple for life.’

  ‘But, darling,’ he replied, gently stroking her face, ‘I would love you even if you were cross-eyed and bald. But, more important, how are you feeling?’

  ‘I don’t remember much about the first week as I was given regular injections of morphia,’ she replied, ‘but things have now settled down. The leg is dressed twice a day and the physios are teaching me to use the crutches.’ She paused, and for the first time, noticed the three gold rings on his sleeves. ‘Congratulations, darling,’ she said admiringly, ‘I see you’re now a commander.’

  Manley went on to tell her about Penrose. ‘And I’ve been given command of Helix,’ he added with a touch of pride.

  ‘I suppose that means more sea time?’ she said, with a sigh.

  ‘I’m afraid so, my love,’ he replied. Now,’ he went on, staring intently at her, ‘I want to know exactly what happened. Who was driving the car?’

  At that moment the door opened and Sister O’Malley came in carrying two cups of tea. ‘I go off at eight thirty so I thought you’d like a cuppa,’ she said, placing the cups on Laura’s locker top. ‘And I thought I’d pop in to say cheerio.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Sister,’ Manley replied, ‘and thank you and your staff for everything you’re doing.’

  ‘Sure, tis a pleasure,’ she replied, ‘but before I go, I’d better make sure the curtains are correctly drawn So far we haven’t had an air raid, but there’s always a first time[7].’ She then reached past Laura and checked the curtains. She then stood back and giving Manley a confident smile, went on. ‘Now, I’ll say goodnight, and don’t worry, sir, while you’re away we’ll take good care of Laura, so God’s blessing and come back safe.’

  As soon as Sister O’Malley left, Manley drew the chair from under the dressing table and sat facing Laura. He took hold of one of her hands, and giving it a gentle squeeze, said, ‘Now, darling, what happened and who was driving the car?’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Laura withdrew her hand from his and took a good gulp of tea. With a weary sigh, she sat back in the chair, and averting Manley’s stare, said, ‘It all began when Susan and myself were given a long weekend commencing the following Friday. On the Thursday, we were in the wardroom having a drink when I asked her to come to Helston with me to visit father. FP, who had taken a shine to Susan, was standing nearby. He overheard me and offered to drive us down.’

  ‘FP!’ exclaimed Manley. ‘That pompous ass.’

  ‘Please, Hugh,’ Laura replied, reaching for his hand, ‘this is difficult enough so please don’t get angry.’

  ‘Sorry, darling,’ Manley said, ‘but FP, of all people,’ he added dolefully shaking his head.

  ‘At first Susan and I refused his offer, but you know FP,’ sighed Laura. ‘He persisted, saying he could borrow a friend’s Austin Eight and how it would be quicker by road.’

  Manley gave Laura a rueful smile. ‘Yes, darling, I remember,’ he muttered.

  ‘Well, Susan and I agreed. We were all in uniform and he picked us up at eleven o’clock the next morning.’ She paused and finished her drink. ‘The car looked pretty old and FP insisted Susan sat next to him and I sat behind, and I remember having difficulty closing the door. It was a lovely morning with a clear blue sky. We made good time and at one o’clock, we stopped at Poole and had lunch…

  Manley interrupted her and said, ‘And I bet FP had a few drinks.’

  ‘Yes, all of us did,’ Laura replied. ‘Sue and I had gin and tonics and a chicken salad, I’m not sure what FP had to drink, because while we were eating, he stood at the bar, talking to someone.’

  ‘Hmm…’ muttered Manley, ‘knowing FP, I’m sure he had a couple of Scotches on the sly. Anyway, go on.’

  ‘We arrived in Plymouth sometime around five,’ said Laura. ‘Susan and I needed the toilet so we stopped at a pub.’

  ‘Where FP had more to drink, no doubt,’ Manley said.

  ‘Well,’ Laura replied, lowering her voice slightly, ‘his breath did smell strongly of alcohol. But he seemed all right. Would you pour me a glass of water, please, darling?’

  Manley reached across and removed the tumbler
off the carafe and poured half a glass of water then handed it to her.

  After taking a few sips, she placed the tumbler on the locker. She took out a white lace handkerchief, and after dabbing her mouth, sat back in the chair.

  Noticing how tired she looked, Manley took hold of her hand and said, ‘I wish we could stop there darling, but I have to catch the eleven o’clock train.’

  ‘You poor thing,’ she replied, reaching across and stroking his face with her free hand, ‘you must be all in.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Manley replied, ‘now, what happened after you left Plymouth?’

  ‘After we crossed the bridge into Cornwall, the heavens opened and it started to pour down. Now, as you know, the roads in Cornwall are fairly narrow and winding,’ she quietly answered.

  Manley gave her a suspicious look, and said, ‘Yes, I remember, darling, what about them?’

  Laura withdrew her hand from his and began toying nervously with her handkerchief. ‘I think the accident happened after we drove through St Austell.’ As she spoke her voice faltered slightly. ‘The road was wet and I remember looking out the window and seeing a cottage painted white.’

  Noticing her hand trembling, Manley placed his hand over hers, and said, ‘I know this is painful for you, darling, so take your time.’

  ‘Everything happened so fast. The car swerved and I remember hearing Susan screaming. The car must have hit something as it tilted up. The door opened and I was flung out onto the ground. I looked up and saw the car lying at an angle close to me. Then…’ She stopped and grasped Manley’s hand so tight, he saw the whites of her knuckles. ‘Oh, Hugh, it was like a nightmare. I… I watched as the car slowly began to topple forward. I tried to move, but before I could do so, the car fell onto my leg. I felt a searing pain shoot through me and passed out. The next thing I remember was feeling terribly cold and being lifted up and being placed on what I now know, was a stretcher.’ She paused then, nervously licking her lips, said, ‘could I have another drink of water, please, Hugh?’

  Manley withdrew his hands from hers and poured out half a glass of water. ‘What a terrible ordeal, no wonder it seemed like a nightmare,’ he said, watching her hand shaking slightly as she drained the glass.

  ‘When I eventually woke up, I was lying here in bed, wearing an operating gown. The curtains were dawn and a light was on and a nurse was sitting by my bed. The foot of the bed was raised and I seemed to be lying at an angle. My mouth felt terribly dry and I asked her for a drink of water. I asked her what time it was and she told me it was eight o’clock at night. That was when I remembered the car falling onto me. I tried to move my foot and was about to ask her how badly I was injured, when the doctor came in.’

  At that moment, a knock came at the door and nurse came in carrying an enamel tray containing dressings, surgical instruments, a fluted bottle of antiseptic, a pair of latex gloves and a surgical mask.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt you, ‘she said apologetically, ‘but it’s nine thirty and I’ll have to ask you to wait in the sister’s office while I attend to Miss Trevethick,’ she added, giving Manley and apologetic smile. ‘Sister O’Malley has left a packet of sandwiches for you in her office, sir, you can collect them before you leave.’

  ‘Thank you, nurse,’ Manley replied. He gave Laura quick kiss and stood up.

  Manley picked up his gas mask and helmet and left. The ward lights were dimmed and the patients were in bed. A nurse carrying a bed pan covered in a cloth emerged from behind a screen and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Manley quietly opened the office door and switched on the light. The office was neatly furnished and compact. Curtains were drawn across a solitary window. Manley sat down on a chair facing a desk, on which rested a telephone, an ink stand and several fawn coloured folders. A small parcel wrapped in brown paper lay on a leather-bound blotting pad next to an old copy of The Daily Mirror. Manley smiled, thinking how thoughtful it was of Sister O’Malley, who must have known he had a long journey ahead of him. The clock on the wall above the desk read nine thirty-five. The headlines on the front of the newspaper reported the success of General Auchinleck’s forces in North Africa repulsing Rommel’s latest attempt to reach Cairo. This was a stark reminder to Manley of the forthcoming raid on Dieppe. Ten minutes later, the door opened and the nurse told him he could go back in and see Laura.

  Laura was sitting up in bed. Her shoulders were covered by a woollen shawl. She had combed her hair and the touch of lipstick she wore was in sharp contrast to the paleness of her face.

  ‘Everything all right?’ he asked, pulling the chair by her bed.

  ‘Yes, darling,’ Laura replied, ‘the nurse said my leg is healing well.’

  ‘When did the doctor tell you how severe your injury was?’ he asked, taking both her hands in his.

  Laura nervously bit her lip and took a deep breath. ‘That was the worst part. He told me the bones in my ankle were completely shattered, and he had to amputate it above the ankle. It took some time to sink in. And when it did, I immediately thought of you. Oh, darling,’ she said, clutching his hand, ‘I thought you’d…’

  ‘And you were quite wrong, my love,’ Manley replied as he kissed her hands. He then looked at her and asked, ‘But tell me, what happened to FP and Susan?’

  ‘Susan, poor thing, injured her head and had a badly bruised face. FP had some sort of head injury and bruised ribs,’ said Laura, ‘both of them were kept here for two days. Apparently, the hospital informed RNB and they sent transport to take them back to Portsmouth. Susan is now on leave. I received a letter from her and FP. He didn’t say where he was. I didn’t reply. They came to see me before they left but I was asleep and Sister O’Malley wouldn’t allow them in.’

  ‘And your father…’

  ‘The poor dear’s been worried sick,’ Laura replied, ‘he’s been in every afternoon.’

  ‘Did he mention sending you to see a prosthesis specialist when you’ve recovered?’

  ‘Yes, he did,’ Laura replied, ‘and a private physiotherapist to help me walk.’

  The door opened and a nurse popped her head around. ‘Sorry, sir,’ she said, apologetically, ‘but it’s gone ten and…

  ‘Thank you, nurse,’ Manley replied, ‘I understand.’

  She gave a quick smile and left. Immediately the door closed, their arms went around each other. Their kiss was hard and passionate and in doing so, Manley felt her tears wet and warm against his face.

  ‘Oh, Hugh, darling,’ Laura gasped as they broke their embrace, ‘if anything happened to you, I think I’d die.’

  ‘Nothing’s going happened to me,’ Manley replied, using a finger to wipe away a tear from the corner of one of her eyes, ‘so please try not to worry.’ They slowly removed their arms from each other. Manley stood up and gathered his Burberry, steel helmet and gas mask. Looking into Laura’s tear-stained eyes, he said, ‘Remember, darling, I’ll always love you.’ He opened the door, and with the heartrending sounds of Laura’s sobs ringing in his ears, slowly walked away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Manley returned to Helix shortly after 0700 on Monday 3rd August. The journey had been long and tiresome but he was able to catch a few hours’ sleep.

  ‘That was some round trip, sir,’ said Lieutenant Powers, who greeted him as he stepped over the brow. ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘Not too bad, thank you, Number One,’ Manley replied, returning Powers’ salute, ‘but I’ll feel much better after a shower and a good breakfast.’

  An hour later, after colours, he was sitting at his desk flitting through the signal log, when he heard the pipe, “all ratings going on leave fall in on the quarterdeck”. He closed the log and went to the quarterdeck, passing on the way, ratings carrying small brown cases and canvas holdalls.

  ‘Not going on leave, then, sir?’ Asked a rating.

  ‘Next month,’ Manley jokingly replied. ‘And I hope you’re not taking to many duty-free cigarettes ashore.’

 
‘As if we would, sir,’ another rating answered, laughing.

  Shortly afterwards, Manley and Lieutenant Powers watched as most of the ship’s company left the ship. Throughout the rest of the morning, the officers also went on leave.

  ‘How many ratings, living locally, who volunteered to remain, are on board?’ Manley asked Powers.

  ‘Thirty, sir,’ Powers replied. ‘The chief engineer, the chief stoker, the chief cook and bosun’s mate, Petty Officers Hardman and PO Frost, Steward Turpin and twenty-three ratings.’

  ‘Good, and tell them I’ll make up for the leave they’ve lost whenever possible,’ Manley answered, ‘and as I’ll be remaining on board, I suggest you go ashore tonight and see that popsy of yours.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Powers replied, feeling slightly embarrassed, ‘I’m sure she’ll be more than pleased. And by the way, I’ve left a signal on your desk for approval, sir, it’s for additional ammunition.’

  ‘Indeed, Number One,’ said Manley, giving Powers a searching look. ‘That sounds like you’re expecting us to sea rather soon.’

  With a wry smile, Powers answered, ‘Well, sir, I have an inkling that something’s in the wind, so it’s better to be safe than sorry.’

  ‘Quite so,’ Manley calmly replied, and walked away.

  The rest of the morning was spent checking signal lists for stores the heads of departments had submitted to him. Among them was a request for additional supply of 4.7 shell and ammunition for the Vickers and pom-poms. Manley sat back in his chair, looking at the request form and wondering if Powers had more than an “inkling” that something, indeed, was in the wind.

  In the afternoon, Manley and Powers went ashore and checked the ship’s moorings. This was followed by a walk around the ship, ensuring everything was secure. Except for a few ratings engaged in cleaning duties, the ship looked deserted.

  ‘The words “skeleton crew”, seems very apt, eh, sir,’ Powers remarked as they walked down the main corridor towards the quarter deck.