Amy

by Peggy Savage

  ‘We won’t talk shop,’ he said. ‘How is your father?’

  ‘He’s well. Finding it a bit difficult to cope with the food shortages. Like everyone else, I suppose.’

  He looked away from her across the room and took a sip of his wine. ‘And how is your friend?’

  ‘Johnny? He’s well. He writes quite often. They’re hoping to get new aircraft this year, faster and more manoeuvrable. They all want to have a chance at the Red Baron. He’s shooting down too many British planes.’

  He looked back at her. ‘Baron von Richthofen. Flies a red triplane, I believe. Your friend must have an exciting life.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  He put down his wine, the glass still half full. ‘There’s someone I need to see on the ward. I’ll see you tomorrow, I expect.’

  She left shortly after he did. The party, such as it was, was quiet and subdued. No one knew what the New Year would bring. Or perhaps, she thought, they knew only too well. She walked back to the sparse hut she called home. I want to see Johnny; she almost said the words aloud. It was six months now. She wanted his arms around her and his kiss. She wanted all of him.

  The year wore on, January and February and into March and bitter cold.

  Amy and Helen came out of the mess hut after lunch and walked down the pathway between the huts. For once it was a dry day and apart from a few cotton-wool clouds the sky was clear and blue.

  ‘I had a letter from my father,’ Amy said. ‘He says things are really tight at home – shortages of everything. He thinks there might be rationing soon.’

  ‘I know,’ Helen said. ‘But it isn’t any good worrying about it. There isn’t anything we can do.’

  ‘He also says there’s something odd going on in Russia. It sounds as if there’s some kind of revolution brewing. Against the Tsar.’

  ‘Against the war more like,’ Helen said. ‘I wish everybody would revolt against that. Peter says it’s weird. Our soldiers and theirs are just sitting opposite one another shooting at anything that moves but no one is doing any real attacking. It could go on for ever.’

  ‘It’s still spreading,’ Amy sighed. ‘My father says the German U-boats are sinking American ships now. Goodness knows what that will lead to.’

  ‘Perhaps they’ll come and help us.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  They walked on in silence.

  The noise started very faintly. ‘What’s that?’ Helen said. Odd noises were always a worry. Amy was fine tuned now to the noises of the camp, but anything new always brought a new anxiety. The droning was very different from the usual sound of the endless traffic on the road.

  They looked around them, and then Amy looked up. ‘It’s aircraft,’ she said, and pointed. ‘Look.’ The planes were flying towards them from the east, the dots growing bigger until they could clearly see the wings. ‘There are six of them.’

  They stared into the sky. ‘What are they? Helen said nervously. ‘Are they theirs or ours?’

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ Amy said.

  A few seconds ticked by. Everyone in the camp knew how vulnerable they were to enemy attack from the air. So far they had been safe. So far the Germans seemed to respect the fact that there were hospitals on the site. The planes came closer, the droning louder.

  Amy gasped. ‘Oh my God, Helen, look! Black crosses! They’re German.’

  For a moment they seemed to be rooted to the spot. They could hear shouts now from the men here and there in the camp and sounds of running feet. A group of men rushed past them towards the antiaircraft guns. ‘Get under cover, ladies,’ the sergeant shouted. ‘They’re German aircraft.’

  ‘Come on, Helen.’ Amy grabbed her arm and they began to run. ‘We must get to the ward. We’ll have to move the men.’

  They burst into the ward. ‘Enemy aircraft, Sister,’ Amy said, breathless. The drone got louder. ‘Quick, we must move the beds away from the windows.’ They began to push and pull the beds into the middle of the hut, away from the windows and possible flying glass. They heard the crump of a falling bomb, but it sounded a good way away, on the edge of the camp. The windows rattled, but didn’t break. They stood beside the beds in the middle of the ward.

  ‘Anyone who can, get under the beds,’ Amy ordered. They pulled the blankets over the heads of the men who couldn’t get out of bed. Surely they will try to avoid the hospitals, Amy thought. Surely no one would bomb a hospital.

  ‘Where next?’ Sister whispered.

  They waited fearfully for the next whistle of a falling bomb or the crump of another explosion, but nothing happened. Strained seconds went by. Then, amazingly, they heard the sound of cheering from outside.

  ‘What on earth?’ Amy ran to the door and looked out. One of the soldiers was waving his cap in the air. ‘Here come the Flying Corps,’ he shouted. ‘Give ’em hell, boys.’

  Amy stared up. British aircraft swooped down from above and the sky was suddenly filled with the chatter of machine-guns and the scream of the engines as they turned and climbed and dived. ‘A dog fight!’ the soldier shouted. ‘A bloody dog fight!’

  Helen and Sister came out and stood beside her. Overhead the planes looped and rolled and turned in a kind of dance. They appeared to move with a kind of lazy grace. They seemed to float, to glide, to appear and disappear as if by magic. It was mesmerizing. Amy had the strange thought that the dance would have been beautiful, if it hadn’t been so deadly. It hardly seemed possible that up there, in the blue sky and among the shining clouds and glittering wings, men were fighting bitterly for their lives. Fighting for our lives too, she thought, everyone in this camp. The guns stuttered and sparked.

  There was a sudden flash and one of the German planes burst into flames.

  ‘Got his fuel tank,’ the soldier said with relish.

  They watched, horrified, as the German pilot climbed out of the cockpit and then threw himself out of the plane. They watched his body fall, slowly turning, to certain death. Helen clutched her mouth.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she said.

  The soldier beside them drew in his breath. ‘What a way to go,’ he said. ‘But I suppose it’s better than burning.’

  Amy closed her eyes, struggling not to think, trying with all her strength not to think of Johnny. She turned away and closed her eyes, sickened.

  ‘Look,’ the soldier said. ‘They’re going. Running away.’

  The fight was quickly over. The German planes, harassed and separated, turned away for home. Two of them dropped their bombs on the open fields as they went. The British planes hovered above until the sky was clear and then they also turned for home.

  ‘I suppose that man is dead,’ Helen said. No one answered.

  Amy fought down her horror. ‘They won’t give us those Guardian Angel parachutes,’ Johnny had said, laughing. ‘They think we might abandon the planes too soon.’ Too soon? A young man was dead when he could have been saved.

  They went back into the ward and began to put the beds back. All the men who could stand had been watching from the windows. A burly sergeant turned away. ‘Only a matter of time, wasn’t it?’ he said. ‘Bloody daft place to put hospitals, if you ask me, right next to a railway line and a training camp.’

  ‘It’s for the supplies,’ Sister said sharply. ‘It’s the only way for us to get them. Otherwise they’d have to come by road or mule and take forever, and you wouldn’t have your little comforts. Come on now, get back into bed.’

  ‘I still think it’s stupid,’ he said. ‘Like the rest of this bloody war.’

  ‘Language,’ Sister said.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  1917

  AMY stood outside the theatre, waiting for Dan. The sun was shining for once, the sky clear and blue. The atmosphere in the camp was different today. There was a feeling of hope. A group of smiling men passed her and called a cheery good morning. ‘Dan,’ she said, when he arrived, ‘there’s a rumour going about that the Americans have declared war on Germany.’


  He smiled. ‘It’s true. It’s official.’

  She laughed with almost unbelieving relief. ‘How wonderful! Surely that means the end of it? The Americans have so much – so much of everything and so many men. It will be like – like a whole new army.’

  ‘I wouldn’t get too excited just yet,’ he said. ‘Their standing army isn’t even as big as ours. They’ll have to train their men from scratch. It’ll take months.’

  Her face fell a little. ‘But the Germans will know they’re coming. It must dishearten them.’

  ‘One hopes so,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think we can expect any great change now, or for a long time yet I’m afraid.’

  She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. ‘I was just beginning to hope….’

  He touched her hand lightly. ‘It will end, Amy, one day.’

  She stared at him, her excitement and hope dying away, replaced with frustration and futile rage. ‘It will have to end, won’t it, when there are no more men left? No British, no French, no Germans. Nobody.’ Her eyes filled with tears, tears of anger and disappointment.

  He touched her hand again. ‘We have to keep going, Amy. It’s the only thing we can do.’

  An orderly came out of the theatre. ‘The patient is here,’ she said.

  They went in together. ‘I want your help with this one,’ Dan said. ‘It might be a bit tricky. He has abdominal pain and shoulder-tip pain. There isn’t an open abdominal wound, but I think he has a ruptured spleen. He must have had a nasty blow to the abdomen but he was knocked out and doesn’t remember it. We’ll probably have to remove it.’

  ‘I haven’t done that before,’ she said.

  ‘I’ve only done it twice.’

  She met Helen later at lunch. ‘What about the Americans,’ Helen said, full of excitement. ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’

  Amy smiled. ‘Yes it is.’ She didn’t tell her about Dan’s reservations.

  ‘It’ll be over soon.’ Helen was beaming. ‘Then we can all go home.’

  That afternoon they had a few hours off to take a bath and have a walk for rest and exercise. They took their walk at the edge of the camp where the open countryside began.

  ‘It looks so peaceful, doesn’t it?’ Helen said. ‘Sometimes it looks so much like home that it nearly breaks my heart.’

  Amy tried to lighten the moment. ‘Where would you like to live after the war, Helen – you and Peter? Have you thought?’

  ‘We talk about it all the time,’ Helen said happily. ‘Somewhere in the country where you can’t hear anything but the birds and you can’t smell anything but the flowers. I’m so utterly tired of these awful smells. When I get back to England I’m going to bathe in perfume and grow roses all over the house.’

  ‘The birds are still singing,’ Amy said. ‘I can hear a blackbird.’

  They walked on. Over the country sounds the drone of an aircraft came to them from the distance.

  ‘Oh God,’ Helen said. ‘Not the Germans. Not again.’

  Amy stared into the sky. ‘We don’t know what it is yet.’

  ‘Come on!’ Helen pulled at her arm. ‘We can’t take any chances. We’d best get under cover and we ought to get back to the ward.’

  Amy gazed at the approaching plane. ‘Just a minute, Helen.’ She stared up, shading her eyes. ‘Look,’ she said. The aircraft did a slight turn and they could see the red white and blue roundel on the side. ‘It’s all right. It’s one of ours. I think it’s one of those new SE5s. Johnny’s been telling me about them in his letters.’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ Helen breathed. ‘I thought we were for it again.’ They watched the plane approach. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘I think it’s coming down. I wonder if it’s in trouble.’

  ‘Oh no. Not that. I hope not. ‘Amy could hardly look. She still had the horrified memory of the young German pilot falling to his death. She saw it in her dreams.

  The aircraft disappeared behind a group of trees. They both waited, holding their breath, waiting for an explosion or a plume of smoke. The aircraft appeared again, bumping along a long field beside the camp. It turned and taxied back. The engine stopped, and then the pilot climbed out. He put chocks under the wheels and then began to walk towards them over the field. They watched him. As he got closer he took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair, fair hair that shone in the sunshine.

  Amy clutched Helen’s arm. ‘Helen, look.’ She gave a jump of excitement. ‘I think – it is! It’s Johnny!’ She climbed over the fence and ran towards him and met him as he walked towards the camp. ‘Johnny!’

  He put his arms around her and swung her round, laughing, and then he kissed her lightly on the mouth.

  ‘Johnny,’ she said again. ‘How wonderful. What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘Come to see you, of course,’ he said.

  She clung to his arm. ‘Are you allowed to just visit people? Won’t you get into trouble?’

  He laughed. ‘Well, they won’t know, will they? And if they find out I’ll say I got lost and landed to ask the way.’

  She laughed with him. ‘They’d never believe that.’

  ‘Oh they would,’ he said. ‘You’d be surprised. People do it all the time.’

  They walked to the camp and he helped her over the fence. ‘You remember Helen?’ Amy asked. ‘From Paris?’

  ‘Of course.’ He shook her hand.

  ‘I’ll finish my walk,’ Helen said, carefully leaving them alone.

  Amy led him into the camp. ‘I’d better take you to the mess hut,’ she said. ‘Strictly no men in our own. Come and have a cup of tea.’

  They walked into the camp. A corporal marched up to them and saluted smartly. ‘I have been sent to ask if you need any assistance, sir,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, Corporal,’ Johnny said. ‘Merely dropped in to ask the way. I shall need a couple of men to help me turn the aircraft shortly. Meanwhile I am being taken for a cup of tea.’

  ‘Very good, sir. You are at Étaples, sir.’

  ‘Thank you, Corporal.’

  Amy led him to the mess. ‘See?’ he said. ‘Nothing to it.’

  She got him a cup of tea. ‘I assume,’ she said, laughing, ‘that you’ll be able to find your way back.’

  ‘Of course.’ He drank his tea. ‘I’ve been here before. I thought you might have seen me.’

  She shook her head, puzzled. ‘No. When was that?’

  ‘We had a little quarrel over here with some German planes a few weeks ago.’

  She paled. ‘That was you? One of those aircraft was you?’

  He nodded. ‘Good show, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, Johnny.’

  She couldn’t hide her distress. He put his hand over hers. ‘It’s all right, my dear. I’m still here, hale and hearty.’

  ‘It’s so lovely to see you.’

  ‘And you.’ He paused, looking at her seriously. ‘I assume there were no problems after – after London.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘It was all right. Nothing happened.’

  He looked relieved. ‘That was lucky then.’

  ‘Yes. Lucky.’

  ‘It was wonderful, Amy. You don’t regret it, do you?’

  ‘No. I don’t. Not ever. I miss you such a lot.’

  ‘One day,’ he said.

  She saw Dan come into the mess. He had obviously seen them and seen Johnny’s hand on hers. She slipped her hand away. Dan hesitated for a moment and then came over to them. Johnny got up as he approached.

  ‘Dan,’ she said. ‘This is Johnny Maddox, my friend from the Flying Corps.’ They shook hands. ‘Dan is one of the surgeons here,’ she said. ‘A very good one.’ She looked Dan in the eye, willing him to say nothing about her work.

  ‘Have you any news?’ Dan asked blandly. ‘You fellows seem to know what’s going on. We only know afterwards, when the results come pouring in here.’

  Johnny shrugged. ‘Something might be happening at Vimy, I think. Same old mess, I expect.’

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nbsp; Dan nodded. ‘We’ll have to be prepared then. I’d best get back to the ward. I’ll get some tea there. Best of luck.’

  ‘I’ll see you later,’ Amy said. ‘I’m back on duty in an hour.’ He left the hut. Johnny watched him go.

  ‘Johnny,’ she said, ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

  He turned back to her and leant back in his chair. ‘Has it by any chance got anything to do with your doctor friend?’

  ‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘Not like that, anyway. He’s just a friend and a colleague.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘It’s about me. I’ve been keeping something from you. I tried to tell you in England, but the moment never seemed to be right.’

  ‘You look very serious, Amy.’ He smiled. ‘What have you done? Robbed a bank?’

  She smiled briefly. ‘No, it’s not as bad as that.’

  He listened to her without interruption, but he looked rather grim and puzzled.

  ‘So,’ he said, when she’d finished, ‘you are telling me that you are a doctor, a surgeon.’ She nodded. ‘And you were removed from the medical register.’ She nodded again. ‘But nevertheless you are doing surgery here.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said emphatically. ‘I’ve been asked to do it. The men are dying. You’ve seen it yourself. You know what it’s like.’

  ‘I do indeed. But you say you’ve put yourself in danger of never getting your licence back?’

  She sat upright, stiffening her back and her resolve. ‘I’ll get it back. I will.’

  Two of the sisters came in and sat at a far table with cups of tea, looking at them with interest.

  Johnny smiled and leant towards her, lowering his voice. ‘Does it really matter, Amy? If you marry me there won’t be any necessity for you to do any kind of work.’

  She gave a little gasp. ‘Are you asking me to marry you, Johnny?’

  He put his hand over hers again. ‘Of course. I thought that was understood.’

  Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I do love you.’

  He grinned. ‘I sincerely hope so.’ He glanced across at the sisters. ‘I wish we could be alone. I can’t even kiss you.’