Miss Nightingale's Nurses

by Kate Eastham

  Rose went behind the screen to find Ada and Lampeter just finishing the final amputation. They were covered in blood, iodine and black gunpowder residue and Lampeter’s tin pot was almost full of shot.

  They were beyond conversation.

  Rose went over to stand by Ada’s side in case she needed anything and then, when the operation was finished, they all helped clean up the surgical area.

  Then the whole team went out amongst the wounded to check that bandages were secure, if anybody needed laudanum or if any had died. All the bandaging was good. There were many needing laudanum, but not enough supply, so they had to save it for the worst cases. They found one man dead and Ada recognized him with sadness as the first soldier they had treated, whose leg they had had to amputate.

  When they were done Lampeter stood by the door of the hospital tent, his head down and his arms drooping by his sides. Ada knew to just let him be. She saw Rose sitting on one of the boxes, completely wiped out with exhaustion, and flopped down beside her. Neither of them could speak but Rose reached over to take Ada’s hand. Both of them closed their eyes and drifted off somewhere just for a while. Ada’s body ached with tiredness and sorrow. She didn’t think that she would ever be able to get up off that box and move around again. And then she became aware of the sounds around her, the murmuring and groaning of the mass of injured men inside the tent. She needed to get up and check around again, make sure that there was nothing more that she could do, but she was so exhausted. And then one of the patients from outside the tent began to scream in pain. Ada felt Rose squeeze her hand and they both stood up together, Rose going to the screaming man and Ada checking what was needed inside the tent.

  Rose came back in with the chaplain when the screaming had stopped. ‘He’s gone,’ she said, bleakly. ‘That’s the last of them outside.’ Ada didn’t know what to say. There were no words. The chaplain was crying and covered in gunpowder and blood, Rose looked so thin and frail with exhaustion that she could barely stand, and where was Lampeter?

  Ada looked round for him. He was nowhere inside, and then she caught a glimpse of him through the door, standing a short distance away, with his back to the tent. As she walked outside she saw Lampeter’s shoulders heave for a moment and then he slowly shook his head and started to pull a pipe out of his pocket. She stood beside him without speaking as he began to fill the pipe with tobacco. His hands were shaking and stained with blood and when she looked at his face she saw a single tear make its way down his cheek, leaving a fine, clean line.

  20

  ‘I attended to the wounds of many … and helped to lift them into the ambulances … I derived no little gratification from being able to dress the wounds of several Russians; indeed, they were as kindly treated as the others.’

  Mary Seacole

  The next day a truce was called to allow both sides to treat their wounded and remove any dead from no-man’s-land, and two members of the medical staff were ordered up to the front line.

  The team decided that it was best for Lampeter and Ada to go, and Rose and Rossiter would stay to deal with the wounded in the tent. Rossiter still hadn’t gained any extra surgical experience so he was hoping that he could get some practice.

  Ada was so exhausted that she really didn’t care who she was working with and felt that after being with the wounded and seeing all that suffering for a full day, nothing really mattered any more.

  That morning, early, she had gone through the whole tent looking for Billy. Even though Rose hadn’t seen him come through as a casualty, it had been so busy that Ada wanted to be absolutely sure that he hadn’t been missed. And all the time she had that gnawing, restless feeling in the pit of her stomach. It gnawed at her so much that she checked all the men in the tent once again and, finding nothing, she went round the back of the tent to take on the grim task of checking the dead, praying she would catch no glimpse of a brown tunic.

  As she stood in front of those poor souls, the stark reality of any war, she felt that restless feeling in her stomach expand to fill her whole body and her legs went from under her. She collapsed on to her knees, her head hanging low, and began to weep.

  Ada had no idea how long she knelt in front of the bodies of those men who had given their lives for some cause that most of them probably didn’t really understand. She had no idea how long she cried for them, for all of them and for herself and for Frank and her grandfather and even her poor dead mother. She wept and wept and it felt like there would be no end to her grief.

  Her weeping was broken in the end by the sound of Lampeter’s voice through the thin wall of the tent, calling for her. ‘Where the blazes has she gone now? We need to get off.’

  For some reason, his ridiculous tone made her smile. He was still himself, she thought, after all he’d done yesterday and how he had looked last night. He was still himself, muttering and grumbling, and he was right – they did need to ‘get off’.

  Ada wiped her face and stood up, her legs able to hold her again, and called back through the tent, ‘I’m here, I’m coming.’ Hearing him mutter, ‘About bloody time!’ she smiled again and made her way back around the tent, ready to do whatever was required.

  As soon as she was in through the door of the tent he passed her a bag of supplies and barked, ‘Come on. We need to be off.’ She nodded and they joined the back of a platoon who were marching to the front line.

  As they walked over grass and through bushes they became aware of the quietness around them. No guns sounding. They could hear and see small birds and then they came up to a stream that gurgled and trickled along.

  The world was so different without the sound of war.

  Ada found herself looking around and then gazing up to the sky as she walked.

  Soon they saw trenches that were occupied by the British and the French and surrounded by huge ragged shell holes. And then they saw the white flag of truce flying and were soon scrambling up from a British trench into no-man’s-land.

  The area was thick with fallen men, some lying face down, some with their arms flung wide looking up to the heavens. There seemed pitifully little that a surgeon or a nurse could do here.

  As they helped the soldiers move the bodies and pile them on to stretchers, Ada stifled a small scream as she saw rats running from underneath the bodies. Lampeter made a strangled noise in his throat but neither of them had any choice but to continue their grim task. As she worked, Ada became aware of different coloured uniforms and strange accents and realized that they were standing in the midst of British, French and Russian men, all trying to do the best for their fallen comrades. She saw enemy soldiers offering tobacco or shaking hands with their counterparts. Lampeter saw her face and said, ‘These are the rules of war. When the white flag is taken down they will start trying to kill each other again but while it is raised they are all men together.’

  ‘Well, why can’t these men together sit down and sort out their differences,’ she almost shouted.

  Tragically there were no living casualties to be found on the battlefield, just piles of dead bodies, some literally blown to smithereens by a direct hit. Ada saw a man’s foot still in its boot lying incongruously on its side. She continued to help clear the bodies, feeling more exhausted and more helpless than she had ever done in her whole life.

  As they worked, spots of rain began to fall, the first rain they’d had since Ada had arrived in the Crimea. Spots soon became large drops and Ada turned her face up to the sky and let the rain run down her dusty, bloodstained clothes. It felt like the world was weeping.

  ‘Come on,’ said Lampeter in a voice thick with emotion. ‘We need to go and find some shelter.’ And with that he grabbed her arm and she put up no resistance as he led her back down into the trench. The place was full of splintered wood and as they walked along Ada felt a deep shudder run through her body.

  At last they found a bunker that looked like it might be waterproof and even had somewhere to sit. They went inside and sat down on so
me empty ammunition boxes. As they looked out at the trench, the rainwater was collecting and causing the earth to soften. It would soon be a sea of mud.

  Suddenly two men bobbed in through the door.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Lampeter, jumping up from his seat. ‘Is this your place?’

  ‘No, just looking for shelter,’ said one. ‘I’m Captain Richard Townley and this is my servant, Jenkins. You are welcome.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Lampeter, standing up to shake the man’s hand and introduce himself and Ada.

  ‘Not many out there for you to rescue today, doctor,’ said the officer grimly. ‘A very sad state of affairs … very sad. But let’s hope that this is the final push and it will take us nearer to breaking the siege at Sevastopol.’

  Despite the officer’s attempt to rally to the cause, his voice was full of weariness and far from hope. Sensing this, perhaps, he moved on to more immediate concerns. ‘Are you hungry? Do you fancy a bite to eat and a sup of something? I’m sure Jenkins could rustle something up.’

  Jenkins didn’t wait for the order; he was straight out through the door, splashing his way down the trench in the mud and rain. When he came back, dripping wet, he was carrying a bundle of provisions which he laid out on one of the munition boxes. He had managed to find some cheese, flatbreads and half a bottle of brandy, which he produced with a flourish from inside his coat.

  ‘Well done, Jenkins, good man,’ cried Townley. ‘Well done.’

  By this time they had managed to light a few candles and discovered a bed with blankets towards the back of the bunker. There was a charcoal burner that was still lit and they had made some tea, using a couple of tin cups that had been discarded by the previous occupants. They sat round on the boxes, eating what they could with their fingers and taking turns to swig from the bottle. Despite all that was going on around her, in that hole in the ground, with the rain falling outside, Ada felt safe and almost content.

  After their makeshift meal, Townley and Jenkins bade them goodnight and moved on up the trench to try and rejoin their regiment. Ada felt some concern as she heard them splashing away. It seemed a bit too quiet without them.

  It was still raining and too late for them to head back to camp, so they would need to sit tight in the trench overnight. Ada was glad of this – she didn’t want to leave this place of comparative safety.

  ‘We should try to get some rest,’ Lampeter said. Ada looked over at the bed and wondered how that was going to be done. Sensing her concern he said, ‘We can take turns on the bed, so we each get some sleep.’

  Ada readily agreed, relieved he wasn’t suggesting that they snuggle up together. ‘You lie down first,’ she said, not wanting to fully submit to his plan until she was sure that it was acceptable.

  Lampeter tried to argue that she should rest first, but soon gave in and gratefully lay down on the bed, turning away from her. There were two blankets so he took one to cover over himself and she took the other to put around her shoulders while she sat. Ada was amazed at how quickly he fell asleep and how still and quiet he was. She would have thought, given his restless demeanour, he would have tossed and turned in bed. But there he was, out like a light.

  She sat with the blanket around her, keeping herself warm beside the charcoal burner. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to be sitting there with him sleeping in the bed. She yawned a few times but didn’t feel all that sleepy.

  When the burner began to die down and the air became cooler, she pulled the blanket more tightly around her and felt a small shiver run through her body. She sat for some time with images from the field hospital going through her head, things she didn’t want to remember. But she decided it was best to let them run through her mind – maybe that way they would eventually leave and not come back to haunt her.

  In the end tiredness did start to wash over her and she began to feel her eyes closing. Forcing them open and sitting up straight before they started to shut again, she was just thinking she would need to wake Lampeter up when: Boom!

  The world erupted; the ground shook; the shelling had started again.

  Ada leapt up from her box and Lampeter jumped up from the bed. Instinctively she grabbed him and they clung together as the sky outside the bunker lit up with bursting shells.

  ‘So this is what it feels like up close,’ he said, raising his voice so that she could hear him above the roar of shells. Ada pressed her body closer to him as another shell landed very close. She couldn’t speak. She felt his arms around her, squeezing her tighter. Then another shell burst with a flash that lit up the trench, and grit showered down from the roof of the bunker.

  Ada could feel both her and Lampeter’s hearts pounding as one. They continued to stand, covered in dust, waiting for the next shell, but then things went quiet.

  Pulling away from him, and dusting herself down, Ada walked gingerly to the door of the bunker to look out, breathless, her heart still racing. Lampeter came and stood by her at the door. She glanced up at his face; his eyes were full of life.

  As he tried to put an arm around her shoulders she pulled away. ‘I’d best try and see if I can get some sleep.’

  He nodded at her with a smile and she moved over to the bed.

  But the shells started falling again, not as close now but still loud and shaking the ground. She felt the bed quake with every detonation and could feel the vibration through her whole body. She pulled the blanket up over her head to shield herself from bits of grit and earth that fell from the roof. This was Hell! How could the men endure this day after day?

  It was loud, so loud.

  The rain had stopped, but each time a big shell fell close by, small clumps of earth would fall from the trench wall with a splash into the water that now filled the bottom. Ada shuddered as she glimpsed a huge rat, slicked with water, skim past the door of the bunker. Lampeter had moved over to the charcoal burner, where he was taking the lid off the teapot. ‘It’s still warm,’ he said, ‘but we’ll have to share a cup.’

  She watched him pour the tea and then bring the cup over to her.

  ‘You go first,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking the cup from him gratefully and sipping the warm liquid. It was very stewed but seemed like the best cup of tea she’d had in a long time. As she sat she felt a shiver run through her body. She gripped the cup with both hands, trying to stop herself from shaking, but it didn’t help. Then her whole body started to tremble uncontrollably.

  Lampeter grabbed the other blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her. She pulled it close but knew that these shakes were only partly due to the cold. She felt that her whole body was reacting to all the emotions that were colliding and sending out shock waves within her. All the fear and the pain and the loss and, yes, in an odd way, the excitement as well.

  She could not stop shaking and her teeth were chattering. She felt Lampeter sit down close beside her, pulling her to him, rubbing her arm, talking to her, telling her it would be all right. She couldn’t speak because her teeth were chattering too much, but she wasn’t too convinced that he believed what he was saying – she could feel his body flinch every time a shell exploded. Then he put his arm behind her and gently pulled her down so her head was nestling against his chest. She felt so safe as she rested there, she had no inclination to move, and at that moment, when the world was exploding around them, it felt like it was the only place to be.

  He continued to hold her close but she was still shaking, so he started to talk again, raising his voice above the noise, telling her about the different types of shell. The crackling, fitful bursts of fire that lit up the sky were a ‘bouquet’, a shower of small shells enclosed in a bomb. The shot that buzzed along like a covey of birds was grapeshot. Round shot made a shrill shriek as it rushed through the air. And large mortar shells rose proudly and grandly up into the air, leaving a fiery trail of burning fuse then swooping down with a birdlike noise.

  It was nice to hear the sound of his voic
e and she understood that he was trying to distract her – although his strategy seemed a bit flawed, drawing even more attention to what could kill them. As he continued, she began to feel her body relax and her teeth gradually stop chattering, and she started to smile to herself inside. Fancy being stuck here, in this dark, dangerous cave, with a crazy man ranting about ammunition.

  Just as she was starting to feel calm there was an almighty commotion outside the bunker and the splashing sound of soldiers’ feet running down the trench. A man was shouting: ‘They’re coming over the top! They’re coming over the top, get your guns!’ and others were running around in what seemed like chaos.

  Ada started to shake again.

  ‘Stay there,’ said Lampeter, striding to the door.

  But Ada followed him and they both peered carefully out, she looking one way down the trench and he the other. A soldier was coming towards them, walking fast, splashing through the water with his gun at the ready. They both drew their heads in fast.

  ‘It’s all right, all right,’ he shouted at them, ‘we think it’s a false alarm.’

  He disappeared around a corner; then they could hear him coming back, much more slowly. They both peered out again.

  ‘No need to worry,’ said the soldier. ‘Looks like it was just one of our lads. When you’ve been down ’ere long enough you start to see and hear things that aren’t there. He must have thought the Russians were coming over. We all go a bit mad down ’ere,’ he went on with a grim laugh. ‘You two get back to bed. You’ll soon know if summat’s up.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Lampeter as the soldier continued on his way; then another big gun sounded, the earth shook and more soil fell into the trench. They heard the soldier shout, ‘This’ll go on all night,’ just before another big one fell even closer.

  They both pulled right back inside the bunker and Ada asked nervously, ‘What kind of shell was that then?’

  ‘A damned big one,’ he answered quickly, and before they knew it they were both laughing so hard they had to hold on to one another. Then his arms found their way around her, pulling her body close against his, almost crushing her. She felt her breasts squashed against him and could hardly get her breath, but her heart was pounding and her body felt alive. In the next moment he leant down and pressed his lips to hers, so gently that she almost wanted to cry. She never imagined that this man, who had always seemed so brusque, could have such tenderness inside him. Then he drew back from her a little and stroked her face with his fingers. Ada felt her lips tingle and shivers went through her whole body.