by June Tate
‘Have a good leave?’ he asked abruptly.
‘Yes thanks, it was lovely to see the family again and lead a normal life for a few days.’
‘Did Havers get home all right?’
‘Yes, he was very weary after the journey, of course, but I made sure he rested and took his medication. I was able to meet his doctor the next morning so I filled him in with all the medical details. He seemed a very able man.’
‘So there didn’t seem to be any undue problems after such a long journey?’
‘No, Richard, he was fine, and his doctor made it very clear he was to rest.’
‘Good. Did you stay with him for very long?’
‘Only twenty-four hours after we arrived to get him settled, then I went to see my people.’
‘Good, good. I’m very pleased to see you back. I’m so used to working with you I hate it when you’re replaced. It’s not the same. Nothing is quite as smooth.’
‘How’s it been, as busy as ever?’
‘I’m afraid so, maybe a little less frantic, but far too many casualties. We have a full list this morning.’ Looking at his watch he said, ‘We have half an hour, at least it gives us time to enjoy our coffee for a change.’
Before long, Helen was back in the theatre where she belonged, beside Richard who nodded his welcome to normality and smiled across at her as they started to work.
It had been a good shift, there were no fatalities today. Every patient had survived the surgery and been taken off to a ward to recover. The theatre staff felt tired but uplifted at the result as they left the theatre and headed for a well-earned meal and rest. They all sat at the same table, discussing the cases put before them that morning.
One of the nurses sat beside Helen and, leaning towards her so no one could overhear them, spoke: ‘Thank goodness you’re back, Sister. Captain Carson has been like a bear with a sore head whilst you were on leave.’
‘Oh, why?’
‘No one could please him because he’s so used to having you by his side. I’m not sure you realise but you’ve worked with him so long, you anticipate his moves and are always ready with the instruments he needs next. We are not so in tune as you are and so were much slower. It drove him crazy.’
Helen started laughing. ‘Oh my! I do know those moods. When I started out with him, I was the new girl and, believe me, for a long time I certainly didn’t meet his standards. He put me through it for a while.’
When the meal was over, they all departed to rest before the next shift later that evening. Some of them took a quick nap, others filled their time in different ways. Reading, writing home, or walking round the grounds, which was what Richard invited Helen to do.
‘Fancy getting a bit of fresh air?’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘Yes, if you like.’
The hospital grounds were large and in the past must have been a picture, but were now somewhat battle-scarred and neglected. The gardeners had probably been conscripted into the army. The grass had been cut, but what had once been flower beds were very overgrown and full of weeds.
They walked for a while, then sat on a low wall for a rest.
Richard looked at her for a moment. ‘It’s so good to have you back,’ he said softly. ‘I missed you more than I expected to.’
‘Ah, that’s because you didn’t have me in the theatre anticipating your every move. I hear you were not happy.’
He chuckled softly. ‘Yes, I’m afraid I was difficult to work with, but you know me, Helen. It makes a great deal of difference.’
‘Although I loved being home with my parents,’ she confessed, ‘after a while, and when I was rested, I was anxious to return. That surprised me.’
Looking at her hand and the signet ring James had given her, he asked, ‘Even if it meant leaving your soldier behind?’
‘Yes. James has a long journey of recovery ahead of him and the war isn’t over. The future is yet to be decided for everyone.’ She rose to her feet. ‘I need to freshen up and rest before the next shift. I’ll see you in the theatre.’
As she walked back to her quarters, she wondered just how James was getting on and hoped that he was getting the rest he needed, but she was even more concerned about his nightmares. Had they ceased? She hoped that being at home in peaceful surroundings might help to settle his mental state.
Sadly, this was not the case, as the parents of James soon discovered a few days after Helen had returned to France.
James had been suffering with a headache and gone to bed early. His mother had looked in on him to make sure he was settled and later she and Edward had retired for the night.
It was in the early hours of the morning that Edward was disturbed. He sat up in bed and listened. He could hear someone shouting and immediately got out of bed and walked onto the landing. The noise was coming from his son’s room. He rushed down the stairs and flung open the door.
James was tossing around in his bed shouting orders. ‘Take cover! Keep your heads down!’ He covered his head with his hands and ducked as if trying to avoid something, then, ‘Christ! Medic, over here! He’s lost his leg.’
Edward was shocked but quickly remembering what Helen had told him, he rushed over to his son and holding him firmly by his shoulders started talking to him.
‘James, it’s me, your father. You are safe now.’
James struggled but Edward held him firmly. ‘James. That’s enough!’
The note of authority seemed to get through the terrifying scenes in his son’s head and he stopped shouting. Edward climbed on the bed, and taking James in his arms he continued to talk to him:
‘There, son, you’re home in Cheltenham with your mother and me. You’re away from the war. Tomorrow we’ll go and see Cleo.’
‘Cleo. My lovely Cleo. Glad she didn’t have to go to war. All those bloated bodies of horseflesh Cruel! Cruel!’
‘Cleo is fine, we’ll go to the stables and see her in the morning. We’ll steal some of Cook’s carrots. Cleo loves carrots.’
James became still and the wild expression had gone from his eyes. Somewhat stunned he looked up at his father.
‘Dad?’
‘Yes, James, it’s me. You had a bad dream – look, your pyjamas are soaked, let me get you some dry ones.’ He walked over to a chest of drawers and searched until he found some. Then, finding a towel, he stripped the soaked pyjamas off his son, wiped him down, and helped him put on his clean clothes. After, he found a clean sheet in the linen cupboard and changed the bedding. Once he’d seen James settled back into bed, he sat beside him.
‘Are you alright now?’ he asked anxiously, seeing the ashen face of his son.
‘I feel a bit shaky, if I’m truthful, Dad. I’m sorry about this.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! You can’t help it. Look, James, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through but if you ever need to talk about it, I’m willing to listen. Sometimes it helps.’
James looked fondly at his father, a man he loved and admired. ‘One day, maybe, but not right now.’
‘Can I get you anything, James?’
‘No thanks, to be honest I feel drained. All I need is sleep.’
Edward rose to his feet. ‘I’ll look in on the morning on my way to breakfast.’
‘Thanks, Dad. Sleep well.’
Once alone, James sat up and took a long drink of water from the glass beside his bed. He felt dreadful. These nightmares drained him completely. He remembered them clearly. It had been at Passchendaele on one particular attempt to gain ground. The guns had mown his men down. One man lost his leg in front of him. Flesh and blood rained down on him and he yelled for a medic. Another man, caught up on the barbed wire, was bleeding profusely. It had been a carnage and James was certain he was going to die too as he and his men retreated. Running – waiting to be hit by a bullet. Then he would wake in a bath of perspiration, with a feeling of loss and despair. Would they ever stop, he wondered, or was he to be plagued with them for the rest of his
life? If that was the case, could he retain his sanity? That was his main concern. How could he expect to ask Helen to share his life if this continued? She’d had enough of caring for the sick, and he felt he couldn’t ask her to take on an invalid for life. He sighed and turned over.
The following morning, Edward rang Dr Coombs and told him what had happened.
‘I’ll come over after my morning surgery,’ the doctor said.
James had a bath when he woke, ate some breakfast, then walked to the stables and straight over to Cleo’s stall. He’d taken some sugar lumps with him. It was here every morning that he unburdened himself to his beloved steed. It was like therapy and he swore to himself that the horse understood every word. He stroked Cleo’s nose, then buried his head into her neck.
‘I had another nightmare last night, Cleo. Dad came down to my room so he must have heard something. What am I going to do if they don’t stop, girl?’
The horse whinnied and shook her head from side to side.
‘I don’t know either. Oh, if only we could go for a ride over the hills like we used to do, but I’m not allowed as yet.’ He picked up a curry comb and brushed her, talking all the time. ‘How can I ask Helen to marry me when I’m like this? It wouldn’t be fair, would it?’ The horse pawed the ground as footsteps sounded, and turning round James saw Doctor Coombs approaching.
‘Morning, Doc! I suppose Dad called you after last night?’
The doctor leant on the half-open door. ‘Yes, James, he did. How are you feeling?’
With a wry smile James said, ‘A bath and breakfast is a great healer, you know.’ He put down the comb and walked outside the box. ‘Will these nightmares ever stop?’
‘I wish I had the answer, my boy, but alas no one knows. We know this condition has been brought on by war, of course, but other than that, we have yet to find a way to treat it. I could send you to see a psychiatrist in the hope that he could help in some way.’
‘You know what I’d like to do more than anything right now?’
The doctor looked wary. ‘No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’
‘I would like to saddle up my trusty steed here and go for a gentle hack.’
Doctor Coombs pondered on this for a moment. ‘Do you think you could manage to do so safely?’
‘Oh yes. My leg is all but healed. I’d be very careful, just a gentle trot, nothing more than that, I promise.’
Seeing the longing in the young man’s eyes and thinking it may help him mentally, the doctor agreed. ‘Only a gentle trot, no more – and not for too long. An hour at the most.’
James’s face lit up with joy. ‘Oh, thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me, honestly.’ He went back inside the stall, put a halter on the horse and led her outside. He tethered her to the wall and went in search of a saddle in the tack room, returning with one shortly.
The doctor watched as James saddled his horse, then giving him a leg up, he again gave his instructions:
‘A gentle hack, no more than a trot and no longer than an hour!’
James grinned broadly, saluted and said, ‘Yes, sir!’ He dug his heels into the animal and trotted out of the yard.
The doctor smiled to himself. It was the least he could do for the boy; he’d been to hell and back, he was sure. The dreams were a testimony to that, but he’d no way of knowing how long they would continue and how they would affect his recuperation. It was a concern.
James was in heaven. He sat on Cleo’s back, walking along the country lane, looking around at the scenery and talking to his friend.
‘Oh, Cleo, it’s been far too long since we did this, eh girl?’ He leant forward and patted her. ‘I’m so glad you didn’t have to go to war because I might well have lost you and that would be unbearable.’ He came to a private path, which led to an open field belonging to his father. ‘Come on, girl, let’s trot.’ His heels gave the orders into the animal’s flank and off they went. The field was large and they did several circuits before stopping. James just sat looking around, remembering how he used to ride with the local hunt, jumping fences, chasing their prey. He looked longingly at the hedge between the fields, so wanting to jump it, but knowing he couldn’t. Well, not today, anyway. He patted Cleo’s neck.
‘In time, my girl, in time. We’ll take it easy for now.’
He rode up and down the field, and changing direction, did so again several times, then reluctantly rode back to the stables, taking the long way home. Climbing down carefully, he took the saddle off the horse, and returning her to her stall, he gave her a drink of water and wiped her down.
‘You have no idea, Cleo, just how long I yearned to do that. But we’ll go again tomorrow.’ He took some sugar lumps from his pocket and held them out to her. Then after stroking her head, he left.
James made his way to the living room and was surprised to see the doctor sitting having a cup of tea with his mother. He glanced at his wristwatch and was relieved to see he had only taken the allotted hour for his ride.
Doctor Coombs hid a smile as he saw this action but ignored it.
‘Enjoy the ride?’ he asked.
With a broad grin James answered, ‘You have no idea just how therapeutic that was, Doc! I feel a new man.’
‘That’s good to hear. You have my permission to take a daily ride until you feel well and able enough to at least canter. But small steps, James, and certainly no jumping as yet!’ He rose from the chair.
‘Must be on my way, just waited to see you were in one piece, my boy.’
Laughing, James assured him that he was fine. He walked with the doctor to the door.
‘You have no idea what you did for me today. Thank you.’
‘I can see by your expression how much it meant to you. Now, just take care. You still have a way to go, but you know that.’
‘I do, believe me.’ He shook hands with the man and closed the door. Making his way into the study, he sat down and started a letter to Helen, wanting to tell her about the morning.
His mother peered around the door. ‘I’m off to do some shopping, do you need anything?’
‘No, Mum, I’m fine thanks, just writing to Helen.’
‘Then I’ll see you later,’ she said and left him alone.
Chapter Ten
Helen was delighted to hear from James, especially when she read he’d been riding, knowing how much it meant to him. He made no mention of his nightmares, but knowing the man as she did, she knew he’d keep such difficulties to himself. Not for a moment did she believe they had stopped. She knew better, after seeing so many young soldiers with the same problem.
Richard and she had settled into a more comfortable relationship. He realised finally that Helen no longer wanted to share his bed and eventually resigned himself to the fact. He occasionally asked after James, but purely from a medical point of view, hoping his surgery had been successful, however there was no longer any bitterness between them.
The months passed by. As one of the interns was heard to say, ‘Same shit, different day.’ That just about summed up the life in the hospital until the end of July when there was a flu epidemic, which crippled the troops and some of the hospital staff. It was as if there was a lull in the war for about a month, until the epidemic seemed to have passed. But the hospital had been rushed off its feet, tending to those who’d been struck down, caring for them until they either recovered or died.
But by August, the Germans seemed to be losing and folk began to hope that there was at last an end to the war in sight as the German army retreated on the Western Front. Then in October they appealed for an armistice.
As the news filtered through, the medical staff in the hospital and the patients were euphoric. There were tears amidst the laughter. Men who had been through hell now knew for certain they wouldn’t be returning to the trenches – but home to their families.
On hearing the news, Nurse Jenny Palmer flung her arms around Harry Gibbs, the male orderly, with tears stream
ing down her cheeks.
‘Harry, it’ll soon be over! Isn’t that wonderful news?’
He looked at her fondly and taking out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped her tears. ‘Indeed it is, love. Didn’t I tell you we had a duty until the end and then we’d have something to celebrate?’
‘Oh yes, you did. I remember that night – I was very down.’
‘Now you don’t need to be. Look, girl, we’re off duty in an hour. I’ve got a couple of bottles of beer in my room. How about we meet in the garden and have our own celebration?’
Jenny hugged him. ‘Can’t think of anything I’d like better.’ She leant forward and kissed him, then she ran off.
‘Bloody ’ell!’ he muttered. ‘Wasn’t expecting that, Harry boy, this might be your lucky night!’ He went in search of his beer wearing a broad grin.
Richard called a meeting of all the surgeons and theatre staff that evening.
‘The news is great,’ he said, ‘but the war isn’t over yet and, when it is, we’ll still have patients to care for until they are at least well enough to be shipped home. Until then, we’ll still be working, but at least, ladies and gentlemen, finally the end is in sight.’
‘Well, I feel sorry for any poor devil who meets his maker now. That would be just so sad,’ one of the other surgeons remarked.
‘Or any poor sod who gets seriously injured,’ added another.
‘Then we’ll do our best for them,’ Richard said, ‘as we’ve done all along. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all of you for your work and dedication. At least we know we’ve done the best that we could for those we’ve treated. Now I suggest you get some rest, we still have work to do.’
Helen walked over to him. ‘I can’t quite believe the news,’ she said.
