The Forgotten Daughter

by Mary Wood

  She had an air about her that commanded attention. Tall, like Mags, but not of Teddy’s height, Phyllis was quite a striking girl, with her red hair and flashing green-brown eyes. Her features were clear-cut, and her manner was precise.

  No one protested at Phyllis’s air of authority. At least she wasn’t being as dictatorial as she had been when they’d first met yesterday, and was showing her caring side.

  Flora looked at Mags, whose pale face and pensive expression prompted her to ask, ‘Are you sure you’re up to going with us, Mags?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. I don’t feel well, but I’m not staying there on my own, Flors. Don’t let them send me back.’ She was broken; the spirited girl ready to take on the world had gone. Flora prayed she would come back in time.

  ‘If it wasn’t for being needed to translate, I would stay there with you. But I promise I won’t let them send you back on your own. Try to buck up a little. I know it isn’t easy, as I feel some of what you are going through. I was just lucky that the officer came in time to stop— Oh, Mags, I’m desperately sorry.’

  A tear had seeped out of Mags’s swollen eyes. Its trickle sent sorrow coursing through Flora. She hadn’t known Mags long, but she had known a very different girl from the one standing beside her now. Even Mags’s stance told of defeat. There was nothing Flora could say to make things right, so she tucked her arm into Mags’s and huddled close to her.

  A Red Cross truck pulled up and a woman alighted from the driver’s seat. ‘Vite, vite, Mesdames.’ A torrent of instructions followed, which Flora had a problem keeping up with. But the woman gave no leeway and hurried them on. Her glance at Flora held astonishment, as her eyes fell on her bruised cheek; but then, when she looked at Mags, her mouth dropped open. The shock registered in her voice. Flora translated: ‘What is this – how did you get hurt? Are you fit to work?’

  ‘We are, Madame.’ The lie they had been told to tell, concerning the stray shell, rolled easily off Flora’s tongue. To the woman’s objections about them going to the hospital, Flora explained that she was needed to interpret, and then begged her to reconsider taking Mags, saying that it would be uncomfortable for Mags to be left in the hotel with the German soldiers.

  The woman didn’t seem to be taken in by the story. She stared at them for a long moment and then, as if making up her mind not to press them further, she nodded, before introducing herself as Madame Brecket. Then she told them that they had to prepare themselves, as there were many injured. Mostly French soldiers who, once they were well, would be sent to prison camps. ‘So they are mentally and emotionally upset, too.’ Looking at Mags as she spoke again, Flora translated to her that Mags would only be allowed to go with them if she agreed to work in the sluice. Madame Brecket felt that Mags’s and Flora’s appearance would further upset the soldiers, and so they would be required to wear a mask at all times to cover their bruising. It was as an afterthought that Madame Brecket softened and told them how sorry she was that they had come to her country to help, only to be injured.

  This last comment made her human, as did her smile when she spoke. Flora could feel the tension easing amongst the others at these kind words, and an eagerness to get on with the job seized her.

  The sight of the Royal Palace gave Flora a pang of homesickness, as the front of the building was so similar in appearance to Buckingham Palace, with its three sets of columns. Inside, its sumptuousness belied the purpose it was now being put to. Flora felt in awe of the gleaming gold-and-crème interior, the huge chandeliers and the polished wooden floor that shone like a mirror.

  As they followed the matron they’d been assigned to, Phyllis went into her usual organizational mode. ‘Look, Flora, I think we’ll be best served by you not having a particular duty, but helping us all with communication. You could float and be ready to come to our aid, if needed. Ask Matron if she is in agreement with that.’

  Matron agreed to Phyllis’s suggestion, though Flora insisted that she first settle Mags to her tasks.

  A change came over Mags once they entered the two rooms that had been adapted for their purpose. The long kitchen with a bathroom leading off it was overpoweringly hot, and full of steam. Pans boiled away on the stove, next to which stood a pile of bloodied bandages and buckets full of dirty instruments. When they walked through to the bathroom, the smell knocked them back for a moment, as bottles of urine were stacked in the bath, with bedpans of excrement piled high in a corner.

  ‘Right, I’ve work to do. You can leave me now, Flors. I’ll be fine. With this lot to sort out, I’ll have no time to dwell on things.’

  Relief overcame Flora at this. ‘You sound like your old self. But are you sure, Mags?’

  ‘I am. There’s nothing like seeing the need of others to lessen your own pain.’

  A voice behind them got them turning round. ‘I am here to help.’

  ‘Aliz! Oh, Aliz, they took you on!’

  ‘Oui.’ Aliz held a handkerchief over her mouth against the stench.

  ‘It takes a bit of getting used to, but that’s the first rule of nursing – empty a bedpan without retching, and you know you will make it. It took me a week of doing it to cope.’

  Before Aliz could answer Flora, she was swept into Mags’s arms. The two girls held each other for a moment.

  Flora swallowed the lump in her throat and asked, ‘How did you explain the state you are in? Oh, poor Aliz, your neck is all bruised.’

  ‘As is all of my body, and my soul. I told them that I was hurt when I fell off my bicycle, and that I no longer wanted to work at the hotel, now that the Germans were there. They understood. I told them that you English nurses had helped me, and as my clothing was ruined, you had dressed me in one of your uniforms. And that I had decided to keep it on, as it would help me to get an interview with the director. And it did! They said they had no time to train me, but that I could help with cleaning jobs and serving the meals, which is what I am used to doing. I have been given two grey dresses to wear, and Red Cross armbands. The director told me they will keep me safe. I – I think he saw through my story . . .’

  ‘But he didn’t ask you any more?’

  ‘Non.’

  ‘Well then, we have no need to worry. He must be a very wise man. The main thing is that you are all right, Aliz. Right, Mags, I have to get back. Tell me what you want Aliz to do and I’ll give her instructions, before I go.’

  Once more Mags showed that she was in control as she organized the sterilization of the instruments as their first job. ‘We can’t touch anything in the bathroom until we have done that, as we will become contaminated. Flors, can you ask for extra help for us – there’s a massive task here for just the two of us.’

  ‘I’ll try, Mags, but from what I’ve heard, they are very short-handed.’ After translating to Aliz what Mags had said, Flora left, telling them that she would be back as soon as she could.

  The sights and sounds that met Flora in the makeshift ward appalled her. Men called out in agony, and it seemed to her that there was a sea of blood – beds were covered in it, as were the bandages on the men, and splashes of blood covered the walls. But there was organization, too, as nurses bustled about, cleaning up and administering to the patients.

  Flora’s heart went out to the broken men, and to the young nurses trying to cope with it all. Not sure what to do first, she felt inadequate, and knew at that moment that her training hadn’t been sufficient. How can I make a difference to all this?

  ‘Flora, over here.’

  Teddy called out, and Flora ran over. Finally she was needed, and no matter how small her contribution, it would make a difference.

  ‘Please ask this young man to try and keep still. I am attempting to set his leg.’

  How was it that these young ladies were expected to carry out such a massive task? But then, as she looked around, Flora realized there was no one else who could do so. From Matron down, the dozen or so nurses were all engaged in carrying out what would usually be done
in an operating theatre: stitching wounds that gaped, digging out bullets and doing what they could for shattered limbs. In one corner a doctor sawed away at a soldier’s arm, his cries of agony almost drowning the pain of the other patients.

  Soothing the soldier whose leg Teddy was trying to set wasn’t easy. ‘Here, bite on this. Nurse Bear is strong – she can pull your leg back into place. It will hurt, but once done, it will give you a chance to walk normally again, when you have healed.’

  ‘To fight again, you mean. Nurse, I need to escape or they will send us to the camps. Our lives will be a misery. Please, you must help those of us who are not so badly wounded to escape.’

  Flora had been warned during her training that this would happen. They were told that they must always remain neutral. Their job was to tend the wounded, no matter what side they were on, but not to get involved or do anything other than a nurse’s duties.

  ‘I’m sorry – I can’t. No doubt, when you are stronger, you will come up with a plan. But to get to that point: you have to let Nurse Bear do her job. Be brave.’ She gave him a rolled-up bandage to bite on.

  His hand gripped hers so tightly that the pain became almost unbearable for her, but Flora didn’t complain. Sweat dripped from Teddy as she struggled to pull the broken bones into place. Eventually she managed it, just as the soldier passed out, and as Ella called for Flora’s assistance.

  ‘You go to Ella, Flora. I can manage now. As long as he is unconscious, I can get the splint into place easily.’

  Flora crossed the room and found she was needed to help a young man of similar age to herself, whose eyes held fear. ‘Mon nom est Flora. Je suis Anglaise. Quel est votre nom?’

  ‘El – Elvan.’

  Speaking in French, she told him, ‘Elvan, everything is going to be all right. You’re in safe hands.’

  ‘Non! I – I die.’

  ‘You speak some English?’

  ‘A little. I am from Normandy.’

  His accent was endearing. That he should try to speak her language in the last moment of his life touched her. ‘We can speak French. Would you like me to contact someone for you?’

  His eyes filled with tears. Speaking in his own language, his voice unsteady, he told her, ‘I have my grand-mère only. Sh – she brought me up. She lives in Morlaix. Rue de Chantelle, quatorze. Her name is Louisa Garrot. Please tell her that I died a brave man. And – and that I love her.’

  ‘Whatever it takes, I will get that message to her, Elvan.’

  ‘Merci. Please . . . tell the nurse who holds my hand that she is very beautiful and has brought me comfort.’

  Flora swallowed her tears.

  ‘And – and you. You have done me a great . . . ser—’

  Elvan’s breath became laboured and then his eyes gently closed. Flora instinctively stroked his blond hair. His lips quivered into a small smile, giving a boyish look to his handsome face, but it quickly fell away as his last breath shuddered from his body.

  Flora let go of her tears. Ella’s hand came into hers, sharing her grief and shock.

  No one so young should die like this, far away from home, Flora thought. But at least she had a message for his loved one. She would write to his grandmother as soon as she could. And she knew in that moment that she could make a difference.

  Chapter Nine

  A fortnight passed before their orders came in. They were all exhausted, but gradually the work at the palace had diminished as the soldiers were shipped out to prison camps or, in the case of the Germans, back to their homes, to re-join their regiment once they were fully recovered.

  Two envelopes had been waiting for them when they returned to the hotel that evening: one was addressed to Flora, and the other to Phyllis. Opening hers, Flora told them: ‘I, Mags and Ella are to go to a hospital in Charleroi, to join a British Red Cross matron and two nurses. There’s no mention of you four, so I assume your orders are in your letter, Phyllis.’

  ‘Oh, blow. I hope we are all to stay together.’ Phyllis ripped open the envelope as she said this. ‘Not to be. Martha, Teddy, Jane and I are to go to Marcinelle.’ There was a collective muttering of regret from them all that they were to separate. It was Jane, a small girl, very shy, but with a sweet nature, who surprised them all by expressing a hope that they would meet up in the future. They all agreed, and then were further surprised when Martha, who, like Jane, hadn’t expressed much of an opinion on anything up to now, suggested they all exchange addresses in any case so they would be able to make contact with each other.

  Flora smiled at both Jane and Martha, and although she hadn’t interacted much with them – mainly due to Phyllis being their spokesman, and Teddy’s gregarious personality overshadowing them – she knew her bond with them was just as deep as it was with the more outgoing Phyllis and Teddy.

  ‘Hold on, I’ll go to the bar and see if I can get a bottle of wine. We need something to help us relax with this news, and to celebrate meeting each other.’ Teddy grabbed her handbag and made for the door.

  Nothing daunted Teddy, but it was Mags’s reaction to Teddy’s suggestion that warmed Flora’s heart, as a bit of her old spark showed when she called after Teddy, ‘Jolly good idea, Teddy, girl. Make it two. We’re not being picked up till tomorrow at ten – we can recover by then.’

  After they were all in their pyjamas, they opened the wine. As they sipped from the cups that they used for their tea, they relaxed in the convivial atmosphere.

  ‘These bread rolls are delicious. I was starving. Flora, if you get a chance, will you thank the manager for his kindness?’

  ‘I will, Phyllis. Now, how about a sing-song? No goodbye-night is complete without one. If I had a piano, I would play for you. I so miss my music.’

  In the next hour they belted out popular numbers and giggled at silly jokes.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about you all, but I’m completely bushed.’

  ‘Me, too, Teddy. And look at Mags – she’s curled up like a baby, bless her.’

  As Flora said this, Ella pulled a blanket off her own bed and covered Mags with it.

  ‘Let us hope she has a better night, as none of us know what we have to face tomorrow, and it will be easier for her if she is rested.’

  Flora agreed with Ella. ‘The poor lamb has cleaned a mound of bedpans today, and she joined in the singing and enjoyed her wine, so there’s every hope that she will rest well. I know I will. I can hardly keep my eyes open.’

  The journey took just over an hour. Parts of it were along rough farm tracks, and caused the girls to be shaken about like rag dolls. Acrid smoke rasped the back of Flora’s eyes as they finally alighted from the van.

  They stood in front of the Grand Hôpital de Charleroi and looked around them. Crumpled, windowless buildings, some bleeding water as if they were tears, others belching smoke from smouldering fires, gave a picture of what had happened here as the battle to take Brussels had raged. Gunfire rumbled in the distance, putting new fear into Flora as she realized that the fighting wasn’t as far away as it had been.

  No sooner had they arrived than they were informed that there were no English Red Cross workers at the Grand, and were given the addresses of three more hospitals that they could try. After receiving the same reception at two more hospitals, Flora was almost ready to give up. ‘I’m beat, girls, what about you? The order we received must have been out of date – our matron must have moved on.’

  ‘We’ll try the last hospital. There may be news,’ Ella suggested.

  They all agreed they should, and set off once more.

  With her feet burning from the miles they had walked, Flora approached the last hospital on their list.

  ‘Oh, they left here for Marcinelle a couple of days ago. It seemed their need was greater than ours, as we are getting on top of things now. The fighting has moved and we’ve had no new cases.’

  Flora felt defeated. ‘How far is Marcinelle?’

  One of the nurses answered, a round-faced girl, whose
smile told of her kind nature. She spoke in English, which was a relief to Flora. ‘It’s about eight kilometres away, but you look all in and it’s getting dark. Look, I’m about to leave for home. Come with me – my mother will put you all up for the night. My name’s Helga. I live in an apartment near the Sambre River, six kilometres from here. I get a lift with Monsieur Monres, who is a cleaner in the hospital and lives near me. There is plenty of room in his trap for you all.’

  This kind offer almost helped to soothe Flora’s feeling of utter desolation.

  As the horse trundled along, the terrible aftermath of the battle was laid bare across the town. There were soulless folk with nowhere to go; others crying and trying to salvage something from their homes; and all to the background noise of shells being fired in the near distance. It made Flora think of the wounded soldiers in the Royal Palace of Brussels, who had left their mark on her.

  Helga’s mother made them very welcome. The apartment was on the ground floor, with a view over the river through its front window. There was one room that served as the kitchen and sitting room. Sparsely furnished, it held a scrubbed table with four chairs pushed under it, and two sofas in a beige colour. On one wall was a blackleaded stove, a sink and a dresser. A door led off the room next to the stove and this, Flora saw, when Helga’s mother went into it, was a pantry, but although there wasn’t much furniture, the room didn’t look bare. The walls were hung with pictures and brasses, and shelving held all manner of ornaments, from a set of traditionally dressed Dutch dolls to a colourful vase.

  Helga’s mother was introduced as Madame Eline. She’d prepared a delicious stew, made from lamb cutlets, potatoes and vegetables. Flora felt a pang of guilt that this might have been meant to last them a few days, but she was so hungry, she ate the generous portion Madame Eline dished up to her.