Wives of War

by Soraya M. Lane

  ‘I have another amputation to do. Finish here and then find me to assist.’

  Ellie shuddered. She couldn’t. Could she? She finished stemming the blood flow as best she could and then turned to find the bandage she’d need for his head. It had been his leg that was the mess, a disgusting merger of skin and blood and what she guessed were fragments from bullets. Those would be dealt with at the field hospital, if the convoy arrived for them and didn’t get blown up on the way.

  ‘Nurse.’

  The word was soft, kind, and a hand closed over hers when she turned back to the bed she was standing beside. She looked into bright blue eyes, eyes that reminded her of her youngest brother; they almost twinkled at her despite the pain. She let him take her hand, squeezed her fingers over his and smiled down at him.

  ‘How bad is it?’ he asked, voice hoarse.

  She set the bandage down and reached instead for water, helping him to sit up a little so she could let him sip.

  ‘It’s better than a lot I’ve seen,’ she said, referring to his leg. ‘Your head wound is bloody but superficial, and I’m sure once it’s stitched and tended to, it’ll just be a matter of waiting for your hair to grow back.’

  A boom echoed out, made the ground shudder beneath them. Ellie froze, hand shaking as she set the water back down. The gunfire had been close the entire time, but nothing that loud, nothing that terrifying.

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ the soldier said, taking her hand again. She wondered if this time it was for her sake instead of his.

  ‘I need to bandage you up, get you ready for transportation.’

  ‘Can you talk to me? Tell me a story? I . . .’ His voice trailed off as she picked up the bandage, letting go of his hand. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve had a woman to talk to. Please, just tell me what you’re thinking about, anything just so I can listen to you speak.’

  Ellie wasn’t about to tell him what she was thinking, that with the sound of war so close she was certain they were all about to die, but she liked him. He was kind and friendly in an entirely comfortable way, and he must have been in a great deal of pain.

  She looked up, across the tent, and somehow, amidst the chaos, she met Spencer’s gaze. She hadn’t known he was back with them yet, and it took her by surprise. He was holding up his hands, working, but for one brief moment they locked eyes and he smiled at her. It was what she needed, one smile to make her realise she had to keep going.

  ‘Would you like me to tell you a story from home?’ she asked, looking back down and knowing that she would be reprimanded for taking too long with one patient. But it was her way, and she couldn’t change who she was.

  ‘Anything. Please,’ he said, pushing himself up a little on to his elbows as she carefully checked his head wound to ensure she’d bandaged it correctly.

  She sighed, patting the soldier’s arm before turning her full attention to his head and hoping he was starting to feel somewhat better simply from talking to her. ‘Home,’ Ellie admitted. ‘My home back in Ireland, before we moved to England. That’s what I’m thinking about.’ It hadn’t been, but the moment she’d thought of something to share with him, home had flooded her mind and it was the one thing she didn’t mind talking about to anyone, even if it did make her sad.

  ‘You know, I hear that Ireland is like a little safe haven,’ he said. ‘It’s as if the war hasn’t touched it; they don’t even have food rations there. Or that’s what they’ve been saying.’

  Ellie smiled as she thought of home. Her real home would always be where her family was, but the house she grew up in in Ireland was always going to feel like home no matter how many years passed.

  ‘I dream of visiting my aunt sometimes. She lived near us, and hers is a cottage much the same as ours was,’ Ellie told him, keeping her voice low. ‘If I arrived today to see her, she’d be dashing out to dig new potatoes straight from the soil before plunging them into a pot of salted boiling water. Then she’d serve them with freshly churned butter and meat. For breakfast it would be fresh eggs and bacon. I can almost taste it.’

  The soldier chuckled. ‘I think we all caught the wrong boat if that’s what would await us in Ireland.’

  Ellie smiled, but the truth was it wasn’t just the food she craved. It was the chatter of the people, the fact that most of them were dirt poor, but rich in food because of where they lived. ‘The bottom half-door of our cottage was always closed to keep the chickens out. The donkey in the paddock was always braying, and we used to run around outside barefoot on the grass with my dog chasing at our heels, or pick berries on hot summer days.’ What she wouldn’t give to be back there right now.

  ‘Nurse!’

  She sighed again, letting the soldier take her hand and press a kiss to it, even though she knew it was strictly forbidden. But what did she care? And more importantly, who was going to reprimand her? They needed all hands on deck, all the nurses they could, and if she couldn’t comfort a soldier who’d been injured in the line of duty, then . . . She gritted her teeth. There was no point getting angry, she knew that.

  ‘I’ll remember you,’ he said. ‘I’ll be picturing Ireland all the way just to get me through.’

  She smiled and patted the soldier’s hand back before dashing off. Dreams of Ireland might be the only thing to get her through the long days and nights, too.

  Ellie almost bumped straight into Scarlet as she hurried. Her friend was carrying a tiny metal tray, her mouth set in a hard line. But when she looked up, that expressionless face broke out into a smile.

  ‘Are you doing all right?’ Scarlet leaned into her, as Ellie did to her, taking a tiny bit of weight off her feet.

  ‘No,’ Ellie whispered honestly. The truth was she was so close to slipping to the floor like a puddle.

  ‘Me neither. Keep going, though. We can get through this.’

  The moment was over as quickly as it had begun, but something about Scarlet gave Ellie strength – the determination in her eyes and the tone of her voice. Or maybe it was simply the letter sewn into her undergarments that she didn’t ever want to have to give to Scarlet’s family, or maybe it was knowing that she had a true friend out here who genuinely had her back. She might have been falling in love with Spencer, but the love she had for Scarlet was founded in a friendship that she knew would last until their last breaths.

  ‘Nurse!’

  ‘Old women,’ she murmured. She hoped those last breaths would be as old women, and they’d look back on this as something that was never, ever to be spoken of or relived again.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Scarlet

  The sun carefully peeked through the clouds above, and Scarlet turned her face up, smiling at the sliver of brightness bathing her cheeks. It felt like for ever since she’d seen the sun. If she blocked out the noise of war in the distance, imagined herself at home, walking the gardens instead of across a street that had been damaged by tanks and gunfire, she could almost be happy.

  Scarlet straightened, looked around and sighed. She was thankful to spend a day away, to not have to work at the casualty clearance station, although she felt sad to have left Ellie behind. She knew Ellie wasn’t coping, could tell from how much she shook at night, not from cold, but from shock, and it worried her terribly. To her surprise, she was managing to cope, although she was finding it hard to block out the memories of what she was seeing each day. Thankfully, she was so exhausted that when she finally had the chance to sleep she fell into a deep slumber, not thinking about James or Thomas, or anything other than her bone-deep tiredness. She was finding the lack of food the hardest, serving the patients water and something to eat whilst having to go without herself. It was certainly not easy, although she doubted anything about war was supposed to be easy.

  She crossed the street and recited the directions she’d been given, making her way to a convent that was housing some of the injured. From what she’d heard they’d taken in a great deal of soldiers at different times, and Scarlet had be
en sent to assist in any way she could.

  She approached the big stone building, so far untouched by the war, and took a deep breath before entering. There was something peaceful about the old building, something nice about entering a peaceful place of God after what she’d been through lately, what she’d seen. Although she was certain the nuns would be dealing with their own fair share of atrocities here, too.

  ‘Bonjour?’ she called out as she entered.

  Scarlet kept walking, hearing sounds but not sure where they were coming from. Then a nun appeared, a big smile greeting her the moment their eyes met.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ the other woman said, extending her hand. She was young, far younger than Scarlet had expected, but then she hadn’t really known what to expect. ‘Come this way, we’ve been waiting for you.’ Her English was thickly accented, her lilting French accent meaning that Scarlet had to listen that bit harder to each word to understand what she was saying.

  Scarlet nodded, falling into step beside her. ‘I’m Scarlet,’ she said.

  ‘Sister Florence,’ the nun replied.

  ‘I have to say it’s nice to be here, away from the hospital,’ Scarlet admitted. ‘The long shifts there are tough going, and the injuries are horrific.’

  Sister Florence took her arm as they walked. ‘The men are fortunate to have so many caring for them. We pray every day for the nurses as much as the soldiers.’

  It was comforting to be spoken to so kindly, and Scarlet was finding the convent beautifully peaceful – a reminder of times before the war perhaps.

  ‘Through here.’

  When she entered the room, closed off by a large, heavy timber door, Scarlet’s breathing became shallow, the smell of injuries so familiar to her yet still so repugnant. There were men in makeshift beds, a good set-up of basic medical equipment, from what she could see, and nuns tending to the motionless patients.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting this,’ she declared.

  ‘This many men or the facilities we have?’ Sister Florence asked.

  Scarlet took it all in, looking around the room and back again. ‘All of it.’

  ‘We’ve done our best, but some of the men need more help than we can give. We’re told there have been some delays with getting the soldiers back home for treatment.’

  ‘Yes, there have been, but we should be able to move those critical ones from here almost immediately.’

  Scarlet surveyed the room again, trying to see if there was any order in which the men had been placed, whether the nuns had been keeping notes about any treatments or injuries received.

  ‘Should we look at those most critical first?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘This way.’

  The other women in the room all smiled and spoke briefly to her, some merely saying ‘bonjour’, and Scarlet replied in her usual friendly manner. But she only had limited time and wanted to make sure she made the correct assessments and assisted in the most effective way she could while she was there.

  ‘I will identify those that need immediate transportation, and report back to my superiors about the others.’ As she systematically looked at each man, she decided that tomorrow she would insist on Ellie taking her place. Ellie would be more at home here, might be able to recover a little if she was removed from the front, whereas Scarlet knew she herself could continue there without being as affected. She was finding that blood and gruesome injuries didn’t trouble her nearly as much as she’d feared they would, that she’d found strength in the work she was doing. It was the ones she lost that haunted her.

  ‘Do you need help here?’

  Scarlet nodded. ‘If you could assist me that would be greatly appreciated. You could take notes as I make verbal assessments, and after that I’ll be able to go through bandaging and stitching with the sisters, as well as any other training that you need further instruction with.’

  She always feared having to show anyone how to bandage, not thinking she was very good at it, but anything she could do here, she would.

  ‘May I ask if you’ve had any hot water? Been able to bathe at all?’ Florence asked as they walked away from the first patient.

  ‘Oh dear, can you tell?’ Scarlet’s eyebrows shot up, her cheeks warming from embarrassment.

  ‘No! I was being polite. We can make provision for you to wash here, to say thank you for your help.’

  Scarlet smiled, thankful for the offer. ‘Yes, please. It would be heavenly.’

  She hoped she hadn’t offended Sister Florence with talk of heaven, but the idea of a bath of any kind, even merely a splash of gorgeous hot water for her face and neck, was the most glorious thing she’d been offered in weeks.

  ‘Are there many other convents assisting the wounded?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘Yes. Every convent still standing will open its doors to injured soldiers. We all do what we can.’

  Scarlet tried not to let hope creep into her voice, to fill her mind when she should be focused only on the men in the room. ‘So they could have soldiers still in their care from some time ago? Since well before this battle?’

  Sister Florence had wide blue eyes, and as Scarlet looked up into them she nodded. ‘Yes, of course. We would keep any person safe within our walls for as long as need be in times such as these.’

  Thomas. Her thoughts were always turning back to Thomas, even if James was in her head, too. ‘I lost contact with my fiancé,’ she shared, wanting to be direct rather than keeping it to herself, at the very least so Sister Florence understood why she was asking. ‘He was last heard from in France, and I keep hoping, praying, that he’s still alive somewhere.’

  Sister Florence placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘We see horrible things every day, but there is always hope. There are miracles that God gives us every day, even in wartime.’

  Scarlet hoped she was right, that Thomas could be one of those miracles. ‘I hope he has found his way to a sister like you,’ she said honestly.

  ‘So do I.’

  She felt lighter simply from admitting her hopes and fears, and continued quickly around the room. The men were in various states of injury, and when she lifted one blanket back to find a bandaged leg on a soldier that needed to be amputated, she quietly put the covers back and moved him to the top of her list for immediate evacuation.

  ‘Do you know how long you’ll be in Rys?’ Sister Florence asked.

  ‘Not much longer, I believe. We’re soon to set up our field hospital, once the site has been taken.’

  ‘God bless you, Scarlet,’ the sister said, touching her shoulder.

  It was one thing for an ordinary person to say those words, but another entirely to hear them from a nun. For some reason, it made them feel more meaningful to her.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Don’t let the horrors we are facing right now affect your belief in God. He is with us every day, and I believe women like you are evidence of that.’

  It was as if Sister Florence could read her mind: the way she was feeling, the doubts she’d had. All she could do was make it through one day at a time. The hope she held for finding Thomas was helping her to put one foot in front of the other, day after day. Not to mention the prayers she was saying for James every morning and night. She had no idea where he was, but she was certain it would be far too close to the front line for her liking.

  It had been a long day, and returning to their temporary lodgings was her least favourite part of it. She’d bathed at the convent, feeling terribly guilty over having access to hot water when her friends didn’t, and the lovely clean feeling was with her still. Now she was back, bone-tired and dragging her feet, she doubted she’d be allowed to sneak off to bed without having to do more time in the clearance station, but at least she could enjoy the memory of her bath.

  ‘Scarlet, do you have a minute?’

  She hadn’t been expecting a man to call her name, but when she looked up she saw an anxious Spencer standing near the entrance to their tent hospital. Sh
e walked over to him. He was back with them now, and it was nice for Ellie to have him near.

  ‘Is there something I can do for you?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not in there.’ Spencer cleared his throat, indicating that they should walk. ‘It’s hell in there; there’s no other word for it.’

  She sighed. ‘It is.’

  ‘I’m worried about Ellie. She comes across as if she’s coping, that she can do it, but I worry for her. She looks like she’s going to faint at any moment. That . . .’ His voice trailed off. ‘I feel like something isn’t right with her. I might not have known her for all that long, but the spark she always had – I feel that it’s fading.’

  Scarlet agreed, but she didn’t want to side with Spencer and get Ellie into trouble. ‘We’re all struggling, it’s true. I don’t think any of us were built for this type of work, to have to see so many injured men.’ A number of women were finding it hard to keep going, and some had fallen so ill recently they were unable to work. This had left them even worse off than before, with fewer nurses to cover shifts.

  ‘Scarlet, I’m not trying to get Ellie into trouble, far from it. I would just like your help to try to find more, well, suitable jobs for her. If I can.’

  She thought about her response, chose her words carefully. ‘Doctor Black, I was under the impression that she was still to assist you with your surgeries and cases, as your personal nurse.’

  He smiled. ‘That was my intention, but now I think you might be more suited for that role. At least for now. I’ll have more authority when we take over our field hospital, but I don’t want to push her.’

  ‘This won’t affect her position here? I mean, she won’t be in trouble at all?’

  He spoke quietly now, his eyes downcast. ‘I care a great deal for Ellie, and I only want what’s best for her.’

  Scarlet was certain he was being truthful, and wasn’t so worried about speaking freely now that he’d admitted his feelings for her friend. ‘I was working at the convent today, and it crossed my mind to see if Ellie could take my place tomorrow, if there was some way of getting her on to that service. It was the nicest day I’ve had in a long while.’