The Forgotten Daughter

by Mary Wood

  Tired beyond words, they all accepted the offer of retiring after supper. The bedroom belonged to Helga and contained a huge bed that was big enough for the three of them. Helga, who had made no mention of a father, said she would sleep with her mother.

  The girls lay awake for hours, chatting occasionally about what they should do, but mostly disturbed by the never-ending sounds of war.

  A scream from Ella, as the house shook from a nearby shell explosion, doubled the shock Flora felt. Instinctively they huddled together, their fear tangible.

  None of them spoke, as the world they used to know tumbled further into a place that held fear of their own deaths. The room lit up with a glow from houses that had taken a hit, while the space around them filled with screams of terror and despair.

  Mags sat up. ‘I can’t stand this. Let’s dress and see if we are needed.’

  They all agreed, and were dressed in their uniforms in no time. Outside their room, they met Helga and her mother, who was wrapped in a shawl and was begging Helga not to go out.

  In French, Helga implored her mother to try to understand. ‘Look, the girls are ready, too – we may be needed. We are nurses, it is our job.’

  Outside, the world had turned to a searing hell. The girls hardly knew which way to turn, but a desperate plea had them running over to a building opposite. ‘Help me!’

  Lit up by the fires, the night seemed as if it was day. Scrambling over rubble, they came across a woman crushed under a pile of bricks, from what Flora assumed must have been her house.

  ‘Mon bébé. Mon bébé.’

  Understanding this, Ella’s desperate voice shouted, ‘Where? Oh, Flors, ask her where her baby is.’

  Helga had already done so, and Flora translated to Ella and Mags that the woman had said her child, a boy, was under the bricks. Taking charge, Helga asked the girls to do all they could to find him, while she tended to the woman.

  ‘Flora, ask if there was anyone else in the house.’

  Flora did as Ella requested and spoke directly to the woman, who was able to tell them that it was just her and her baby, as her husband was away in the army. Flora looked over at the rubble that was once the woman’s house and her heart sank.

  They’d been working for about ten minutes, frantically clawing at the bricks, some so hot that they burned, others jagged so that they cut their hands, but nothing hindered them in their desperate bid to find the baby.

  ‘Oh God, no!’

  Flora stiffened, not wanting to ask Mags what she’d found. Turning, she saw her lift a bundle. Please, God, don’t let it be the child.

  ‘I’ve found him, poor soul.’

  Clambering over the rubble, Flora and Ella got to Mags at the same time, but before they could see what Mags could, a flash from an explosion threw them all to the ground. Trembling as she spat dust from her mouth and wiped it from her eyes, Flora looked up, trying to see the others. Mags lay next to her. The bundle, now exposed, showed a dead infant, bruised and torn. A cry escaped her. Where her strength came from she didn’t know, but she flailed her arms in the air, hitting out at nothing but the horror of all that was happening.

  ‘Are you girls all right?’

  Helga stood over them, her cheek bleeding. The sight of her brought Flora out of her shock, straight back into professional mode. She stood and checked the other two, who were getting to their feet, too, and found that apart from a few scrapes of their skin, they were all fine.

  ‘How is the woman, Helga?’

  Helga shook her head.

  Mags still held the baby’s body. She wrapped the blanket back around him. As she climbed over the rubble, they all followed her. Bending down, Mags lifted the woman’s arm and placed her baby son under it.

  They stood for a moment. Four nurses, who were meant to be strong, undone by the sight. An arm came round Flora and she looked up into Helga’s face. Tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘Did you know her, Helga?’

  ‘Yes. She hadn’t lived here long. I spoke to her for the first time this morning as I left for work. Her name was Raquel and her son was called Josen. I – I . . .’

  Flora waited, as she could see that Helga was struggling with her emotions.

  A group of older men came over to them. ‘We have ambulances and firefighters on the way, Nurses, we’ll take over here. There’s a family over there who need your help.’

  Somehow they got through, giving first-aid where they could and seeing patients off to hospital. Sheets were used as bandages, and various ointments and cleansing fluids, as well as painkillers, were brought out to them by the local pharmacist.

  Flora wondered if she would ever feel anything ever again, other than shock, horror, fear and extreme tiredness.

  The next day, as the three of them sat in the car of a friend of Helga’s, having said their goodbyes to her, Flora pondered over how many young women she’d come across since leaving home. All of them were so brave in adapting to the new world they found themselves in. Where have the lives that we planned gone? This isn’t how it was meant to be.

  The car came to a halt at the request of a German soldier. The driver spoke German and took a moment to explain his business and show his papers. The soldier looked through the car window at them, then nodded. ‘He says he appreciates the difficult work you are doing, far from home. He, too, is far from home and having a difficult time.’

  Flora thought about the Germans she’d met at the hotel. She wound down the window and smiled at the young man. Not much older than her, he looked uncomfortable, but then he smiled back when she used her little German to thank him: ‘Vielen Dank.’

  When they finally arrived at the hospital they found the British Red Cross matron and the nurses all desperately worn out. They were told there was little equipment, and that up to fifty wounded had been brought in only that morning.

  ‘Are there four more nurses here from England? They should have arrived yesterday?’ Flora whispered to the harassed matron.

  ‘Did you know them?’ She looked up and bit hard on her lip.

  Flora felt sick. ‘Yes, why – what happened?’

  ‘They were in an accident on the way. I’m very sorry, but they were all killed.’

  ‘No . . . no . . . Oh God!’

  Both Mags and Ella clung to Flora. She looked into their haggard faces and wanted to scream out the pain inside her. How was it possible? Those lovely girls. Why, why?

  ‘Come along now, there is work to be done. I’m sorry for your loss. I didn’t know them, but we badly needed them here. It is a tragedy – may their souls rest in peace. Now, I’m sorry if I sound callous, but we must focus. I need you to prepare any Germans, as they are to be evacuated. They are all in the ward across the corridor. We have been told that trucks are picking them up in about an hour. Make sure any open wounds are cleaned and dressed. Splint any obvious broken bones, and administer pain-relief to those needing it the most. There is a tray of medication over there.’

  Looking at them properly for the first time, Matron added, ‘Run and change your uniforms first. I am going to assume there is a good reason for making your appearance in such a dirty condition? You can report later.’ In French she shouted to an orderly, a young girl who looked no more that fifteen, ‘Take these girls to the bathroom, then deliver them some uniforms from the stores, but hurry.’

  Once the Germans had been shipped off, the workload eased, and Matron invited them to sit with her and, over a welcome cup of tea, tell her what had happened to them. She commended them on their foresight and bravery, before telling them to look on the German evacuation as an indication that the Allies were making headway. ‘They wouldn’t move the Germans out, if not. So overall the news is probably good. Now, I want you all to rest well tonight, because tomorrow I will need you to bear the brunt of the work, while I rest my nurses. I have a feeling that we, too, will be shipping out soon. As the war moves, so do we. Your first job in the morning is to heat as much water as you can. There is no running ho
t water here. Wash down all the mattresses that the Germans were lying on; many of the Allied soldiers are lying just on bedsprings, as there were not enough mattresses to go round and, while the Germans held the upper hand, they took precedence.’

  This shocked Flora and, without asking the others, she felt that she had to speak up on their behalf. It was funny, but in the few short weeks they’d known each other, she knew they would be thinking the same as she was. ‘Matron, may we do that now? I can’t bear to think of those soldiers putting up with one more hour in such discomfort, let alone a whole night.’

  As Matron started to protest, both Ella and Mags joined in agreement with Flora.

  ‘Very well. And, girls, you are doing your uniforms proud. Thank you.’

  The stiffness had now gone out of Matron. Her stance softened and a lovely smile lit her face, turning her from a plain care-worn woman into a lovely, approachable one.

  Once they had all the soldiers settled, they made cocoa and sat together, talking about Phyllis, Teddy, Jane and Martha. It seemed they were devoid of tears and emotion, as they didn’t cry, but remembered the goodbye-night and vowed they would always remember the other girls.

  There were more shocks at noon the next day, as Matron announced that her prediction had come true and that she and her two nurses were to be shipped out. She wasn’t sure where to, but she’d been assured it was unlikely there would be any further casualties brought to the hospital, as the fighting had moved too far away.

  ‘I am leaving you in charge, Flora, as you speak the soldiers’ language and can cope with any communications that come in, which will most likely be in French. I don’t anticipate that it will be long before you are all moved on. There are plans to close our operations here, due to the lack of equipment, et cetera.’

  Within an hour the nurses had left, with Matron kindly agreeing to see that the letter Flora had written to the grandmother of Elvan, the soldier whose hand she had held as he passed away, got to the Red Cross headquarters. Flora hoped that from there it would eventually reach its destination in France. This gave her closure of her time in the Royal Palace, though she knew she wouldn’t ever forget Elvan, and felt sad that he would never step on French soil again.

  Turning from the open door, through which they had waved Matron and her party off, Flora sighed. ‘Well, that’s us carrying the cart then, girls!’

  ‘It is, Matron Flors. Where do you want us, and what do you want us to do?’

  They all burst out laughing at this. ‘Ha, I’ve been promoted already. Nurse Mags, I want you to scrub every floor in the hospital with a nail-brush and, Nurse Ella, you are to wash the bottom of every patient!’

  Their laughter rang out. Calls of ‘What’s so funny?’ and the sound of men laughing, even though they didn’t know what at, filled the two occupied wards.

  ‘Seriously, I think I should go from bed to bed with a notebook and pen and talk to each patient. Just to make my own assessment of each one’s needs. Matron indicated that it was only basic nursing care, for those left in our charge. Well, we can manage that, can’t we?’

  There was nothing immediate that posed more than they could manage, and Flora’s confidence grew. She numbered the beds, then made a list with corresponding numbers for Ella and Mags to follow – dressings would need changing, medication would need to be given out, and general keeping clean and comfortable seemed the order of the day for most of the men.

  One young man posed them more of a problem. His temperature was high, yet his body was cold.

  ‘I’ll ask the orderlies and the kitchen staff to see if there is a doctor we can call on. I’m worried about him,’ Flora said.

  Mags and Ella agreed. Mags, being the most experienced, ordered that they set an orderly to douse the soldier’s body in cold water, as a first-line measure.

  With night orderlies in attendance, the girls sat in the kitchen, eating the delicious casserole that had been left in a pan for them.

  ‘I don’t feel a bit tired. I feel as though I’m buzzing, which is the best I’ve felt since we arrived in Belgium.’

  ‘That’s good to hear, Ella. I feel the same, and I’d love to stroll out and find a bar. I could just down a nice glass of wine.’

  ‘Not sure I want to go that far, Mags.’ Flora laughed. ‘But, yes, I feel the same. Uplifted somehow. It was good to hear that doctor praise us, saying we had probably saved that soldier’s life.’

  ‘Yes, and good to know that there are resources out there to help us. I was relieved when the doctor decided he should be taken to a better hospital. I think it’s bad form that we are left on our own.’

  ‘We’ll manage, and Matron said it wouldn’t be for long. I know, how about I play that piano that stands in the hall? The soldiers will be able to hear it, if we open the doors.’

  ‘Spiffing, as my old teacher would say. What do you think, Ella?’

  Ella laughed. ‘That would be wonderful. And couldn’t we send the orderly for a few jugs of ale for the men?’

  ‘Done! Come on.’

  Flora was surprised when, within a few minutes of the orderly leaving the building, ten jugs of ale were delivered by the owner of the bar down the road, and by a few of his customers. ‘Glad to help the men who fought so bravely, and you girls of course. We’ll collect the empty jugs tomorrow.’

  As Flora played tunes ranging from ‘It’s a long way to Tipperary’ to ‘Alexander’s Ragtime Band’, laughter, applause and even a little dancing, by the more able-bodied, turned the hospital into a place of fun.

  Most of the tunes she played from memory, some she had to improvise. But however she got there, every note seared through her, bringing her joy.

  Chapter Ten

  Flora looked at the meagre stores left in the hospital kitchen cupboard. One bag of flour and another of dried beans – beans, which they’d eaten every day of the last week. Cook had made stews with them, bringing in an onion from her home. She had fried them, after rehydrating them, and had made a kind of pease pudding with them, but nothing really made them taste of anything other than beans . . .

  Flora sighed. The order she’d put into their supplier had been refused. She was told that no bills had been paid, and the credit was already too high to continue supplying them.

  Their own pay had long since ceased to arrive, and no news had filtered through either from, or about, any other Red Cross nurses in Belgium – or anywhere, for that matter – as all communication had been cut off.

  They were now down to two patients, as most had been shipped to prisoner-of-war camps and some, who were not well enough to go, had gone to hospitals in Charleroi. Saying goodbye to each patient had been heart-wrenching. The remaining two were being picked up by the Germans later today, which was a relief in some ways, as the responsibility for them would lift from her shoulders, but it also tore her apart. These two, and all the soldiers, had become their friends over the last three months.

  Ella came up behind her. ‘Are you Mrs Hubbard again, Flors?’

  ‘Afraid so. Our cupboard is bare. I just don’t know what to do.’

  ‘I’ll go round all the neighbours again – they helped us last week.’

  ‘Thank you, Ella.’

  Ella, always the weakest of the three girls, was stick-thin and very pale. Flora feared for her.

  ‘Before you go, I need to speak to you and Mags. I’ve had bad news. You go along to Matron’s Office’ – they still called the office where Flora sorted out the day-to-day running of the hospital ‘Matron’s Office’. ‘I’ll go and find Mags, and we’ll have a meeting about what to do next.’

  ‘What is it, Flors?’ They sat drinking the very weak tea with no milk, without complaining, chatting about this and that, until Mags brought up the subject of the bad news, with this question.

  A sigh came from deep within Flora. ‘I’m afraid that Hendrix has come back with a negative answer.’

  Ella’s head dropped. Mags just looked straight ahead. Neither girl spo
ke.

  Hendrix was an elderly man who lived locally and had taken to coming in a few hours a day to lend them a hand. A week ago he had agreed to make the journey to Brussels to seek out the American minister, who they knew had been asked to look after British interests.

  ‘The US Legation has said that on no account are we to go to Brussels, and that they cannot give us any money. They suggest that we ask the German commandant in Charleroi to give us a pass to England, or Maastricht, via Germany.’

  ‘They are feeding us to the wolves.’

  Flora had to admit that Mags could be right. No one had bothered about them at all and, even when the communication lines were still open, very few instructions had come through, other than to complete the job in hand and await further instructions.

  ‘I’m afraid. What about the rumours that some nurses, who were supposed to have been sent to England by the Germans, have been found in Russia?’

  ‘That was in the beginning, Ella. There have been many talks about our standing since then, and all nations have agreed to give us immunity from capture, and freedom of movement to do our work.’

  ‘None of that will stop the Germans; they say one thing, but do another as it suits them.’

  ‘You’re right, Ella. We need a plan, I think—’

  Mags’s words were cut short by a loud bang. The muscles of Flora’s stomach clenched. Rising, all three went into the hall. A German officer stood there, with four soldiers flanking him. The shattered panels of the door suggested their hurried and forced entry.

  With all the courage she could muster, Flora turned to Mags and Ella and told them in French to go about their duties. They had rehearsed this, after Hendrix had reported that German soldiers in the local bar had been overheard saying that the hospital was hoarding deserters. Flora had taught Mags and Ella how to answer in French, if questioned. Their intention was to pass themselves off as Belgian.

  ‘Stay where you are!’

  The officer spoke in French, but his command was unmistakable. Mags and Ella stopped in their tracks. A whimper escaped from Mags. Flora wanted to tell her that it would be all right, and to keep calm, but dared not speak to her in English. She knew the emotions that the officers’ arrival would trigger in Mags, and prayed that they could keep to their plan.