Evie's War

by Mackenzie, Anna

  On account of it all, and of drinking too much champagne, I have slept rather late, but must get up soon and find Edmund. Last night he seemed quite taken with Jane, and appeared rather sorry when Lady Braybrooke whisked her and Olive away. No doubt they will be overawed by their accommodation; they seemed quite enough impressed by Deans Park.

  Later

  Edmund has sworn me to secrecy, and indeed I do not wish to spoil Mother’s mood: he has received orders and will return to the Front within the month. He is measured in his reaction, being both eager and filled with justifiable trepidation. He agreed that we might tell Charles, who clapped him on the shoulder and wished him well. They seem to approve of one another, to my great relief.

  Sunday 28 January

  Church with Edmund on my left and Charles on my right, and not even a dire sermon of re-hashed platitudes could shake my good mood. Before leaving, Charles asked whether we might discuss setting a date. Having no immediate desire to do so I deferred until next we meet. The glint in his eye suggested he will not be put off for long!

  29 January, 1st Eastern

  On intakes; we are in the midst of another rush.

  31 January

  The latest lot are mostly pneumonia and trench foot, the latter often so bad amputation is required, which is scandalous, given early treatment could so easily prevent it. One soldier told me they have to stand for days in water up to their knees. They are given whale oil to rub on the feet and legs but he said there is not always time to attend to it. There are also cases of frostbite to both hands and feet. One young Private cried as he told me of his Lieutenant, who, on seeing the state of his hands, gave him his own gloves. The man was killed shortly after, and the poor Private somehow feels himself to blame.

  1 February

  I have fears for two of my pneumonia cases. One, currently running a temperature of 102, told me on Monday that he had gone off sick three times but had each time been returned to the Front line after only a day or two. Such a policy is counter-productive, as his current state testifies. He has slipped in and out of delirium all day. I shall go back after dinner to see if he is improved.

  2 February

  My young man passed away at midday. A second looks likely to follow; Sister has promised she will have someone sit with him through the weekend so he need not die alone.

  Later, Deans Park

  Charles was waiting when my shift finished; he claimed he had thrown himself on my uncle’s mercy and begged for the afternoon off that he might oblige me to keep my word. On the train down I did my best to explain that I should feel myself shirking were I to give up my Hospital work before the War’s end, which caused him to become quietly thoughtful and the matter remains unresolved.

  3 February

  Mother says she cannot comprehend why I would place nursing above my fiancé. I could describe the desperate straits of those men who pass through our wards, but even then I doubt she would understand the obligation I feel.

  5 February, 1st Eastern

  As expected regarding my pneumonia case; Sister says he went easily at the end.

  6 February

  Progress with several cases: temperatures down and able to take fluids unaided.

  A letter from Charles, in which he threatens to write daily until he is ‘put out of his misery’.

  7 February

  Five survivors from a Merchant freighter came in last night. U-boat attacks being indiscriminate, no vessel is safe. The men are suffering from cold and prolonged exposure in the water. One may lose his fingers. They say the hardest was watching their comrades drown.

  8 February

  Another of my pneumonias has passed away; we had thought the corner turned, but a sudden setback proved too much. There does not always seem to be any cause other than their generally weakened condition. Of the trench foot cases, all will survive, though they may lose toes or feet.

  9 February

  Charles says he is not surprised at the numbers of medical cases coming through, it being the coldest winter on record. In response to my enquiry as to when we might expect an end to this appalling War, he writes that the severing of diplomatic ties between the United States and Germany is a positive sign.

  10 February, Deans Park

  Eugenie has asked whether I might scour Cambridge for vegetable seed (turnip and cabbage by preference), local supplies being depleted. Her plan, expounded in detail, involves committing most of the lawn to growing vegetables to feed the hungry children of London.

  Sunday 11 February

  Winifred called in after Church. She is driving again, though cannot yet manage the starter. She looks a good deal less tired but still lacks her characteristic exuberance.

  12 February, 1st Eastern

  I am to remain in Medical. Our Merchant Seamen have been transferred to Hospitals further north. The remaining pneumonias are too ill to be moved.

  14 February

  Charles is proving true to his promise regarding letters; I confess I look forward to them. Today he sets out ‘a potential solution to a moral dilemma, being: his fervent desire to marry forthwith, set against his unwillingness to do so at the cost of his intended’s peace of mind’. His proposal is that I continue my War work after our marriage, albeit with some consideration regarding my hours and location, and with the proviso that I reside ‘in the Marital home’. I had not given any thought to where we might live!

  15 February

  Rushed into town at lunchtime with some success: having located a seed merchant I made a purchase on Eugenie’s behalf (allowance provided by Father), that the Kaiser’s policy to starve us into submission may yet be foiled!

  17 February, Deans Park

  Edmund is home for the weekend, though all is not peaceful: he has told our parents that he is shortly to return to the Front. Finding him alone in the library after lunch I asked whether he saw merit in marriage at the current time. His look was very grave. ‘For myself, no, as I should not wish to leave my new bride a widow. But for you and Charles, I should think it equally foolish were you not to proceed.’

  Duly chastened, I have resolved to set my doubts aside.

  Sunday 18 February

  Mother in a fragile state; even Father subdued. My brother departed mid-morning. When I expressed my fears regarding the current threat to shipping in the Channel, Edmund replied: ‘We can but trust to God,’ which would have been more of a comfort had he not added, with a disparaging smile, ‘In Whom I no longer believe.’ Regardless, I shall pray for him.

  21 February, 1st Eastern

  Most distressing note from Charles: he has offered to release me from my promise. I do not in the least understand why; he says only that he makes the offer having spoken to Edmund! Sister found me weeping and sent me to Matron. She listened for only a few minutes before saying: ‘It is quite simple. Do you or do you not wish to marry the man?’

  I said I thought perhaps I did. She flapped a hand. ‘Then write and tell him so!’

  Telegram sent: ‘Prefer to stand by Promise.’

  22 February

  Summoned to Matron’s office at the end of my shift; Charles was waiting outside with permission to take me to tea. He was quite stricken. Apparently Edmund had repeated our discussion regarding marriage, causing Charles to convince himself that I had come to regret our engagement. I assured him this was not the case, though acknowledged that the responsibility I felt to my patients had been weighing heavily. Then, of course, it was my turn to express remorse for my failure to respond to his proposed solution, which in point of fact I think more than fair; and that my sole reason for not writing in that vein is that I have been rather cast down by the loss of several men, and rather busy besides. At this he stroked my hand and admonished me against wearing myself out. With far lighter spirit I asked whether that had been a concern when it was he I was tending. He replied that he had then felt I should spend rather more time at my patients’ bedsides, as long as it was his own and no one else’s! Af
ter further discussion we are resolved: we shall set a date in April, subject to Father’s approval.

  24 February, Deans Park

  Mother ‘vetoed absolutely’ any plan of marrying in April, which she says would give ‘quite the wrong impression’. What impression, and to whom, she did not elect to explain. She does, however, support Charles in his desire to ‘have matters settled’ and proposed June. Calendars were consulted and the 23rd settled upon. And thus it is decided. Aunt Marjorie says the garden will be perfect; Mother intends speaking with the Vicar tomorrow. Father quietly approving, Millie ecstatic. I have written to Edmund, care of his Regiment, to give him the news. Of the plan that I continue working after our marriage, I am currently saying nothing!

  26 February, 1st Eastern

  U-boat attacks more ferocious than ever; many thousands drowned while mere handfuls are saved. Sent up a prayer for Edmund’s crossing.

  27 February

  One of my trench foot cases remarked on how radiant I appeared. Another said, with a wink, ‘Romance.’ I blushed!

  28 February

  More snow overnight. The ambulances became bogged trying to get back from the Station, and two of the tent wards had to be removed to the cloisters. Very trying.

  1 March

  Telegram from Father to say that Edmund is arrived in France. Relief! Also a letter from Mr Lindsay. It seems Winifred has ended their understanding. He says he does not bear any grudge, and does not believe it in any way to do with his disfigurement (which is certainly true, Winifred not being so callous). His final word on the subject is that he wishes her every happiness. He has applied to return to his studies at Oxford.

  3 March, Deans Park

  Aunt Marjorie, doubtless through some nefarious means, has acquired a length of pale blue silk and proposes engaging her dressmaker in Saffron Walden so that I might look the ‘Perfect Bride’. I believe Millie is more taken than I with all the palaver.

  Sunday 4 March

  Uncle Aubrey and Charles are up for the day. The latter took me aside and kissed me soundly, and I am reminded of why I have said ‘yes’!

  6 March, 1st Eastern

  The Horrors of this War grow no less, as evidenced by the sorry cargo of each line of ambulances. Newspaper articles and what we see with each intake simply Do Not Tally.

  7 March

  I saw a patch of crocuses today, tiny cups nudging through the soil and petals of pale purple spreading like little stars.

  10 March, Deans Park

  Protests in Petrograd around the shortage of food, in particular bread; mounted Cossacks called in to control the crowd though the demonstrations are reported as generally peaceful, being comprised largely of women. Father is worried the situation may benefit the Enemy.

  14 March, 1st Eastern

  Note from Edmund: he says he is ‘enough alive to feel frozen in his marrow’. And adds that he came upon a sentry whose boots had frozen in place during the night and who was too exhausted to break himself free. I can well imagine the state of the feet inside those boots.

  16 March

  Czar Nicholas II has abdicated amidst reports of soldiers leaving their posts; the term ‘mutiny’ is being used. The Romanov family has ruled Russia for 300 years! I wonder whether our own King feels vulnerable?

  17 March, Deans Park

  Charles came up this morning; he is looking tired. He agrees the situation in Russia is grave, with food shortages likely to cause further trouble. It can only work in Germany’s favour.

  19 March, 1st Eastern

  Edmund’s birthday, he is twenty-three. More medical cases, all of whom should have been evacuated sooner.

  20 March

  Newspapers full of reports of a German withdrawal; it is the talk of the wards — though seems not to apply to their attacks in the Channel, the tally of ships being sunk now standing at close to ten a day. It simply cannot be sustained.

  22 March

  Note from Winifred; she proposes meeting me at the Station on Friday. I have replied in the affirmative!

  24 March, Deans Park

  Winifred is much improved; while not quite her old self, she is once again looking forward. She has applied to the Red Cross with a view to returning to France. Aunt Marjorie’s response was severe: she says Winifred may not depart until after the wedding. It is rather unreal to think that in three months I shall be married.

  27 March, 1st Eastern

  Sometimes I feel little more than a drudge — then one of the men will ask for me by name or thank me for my help, and it feels worthwhile once again.

  29 March

  Sister told me to report to Matron’s Office after my shift, which set me a-flutter in case Charles had made another unexpected visit. It proved otherwise, though he was implicated. It transpires that, further to Charles having raised the matter with her, she has made enquiries on my behalf to the New Zealand Convalescent Hospital at Grey Towers, Hornchurch, which, having opened last year, is currently in the process of expanding. This I heard with kindling hope, alas, soon dashed: the Matron in Charge, while being favourably disposed towards securing the services of New Zealand women, does not believe the situation will suit one newly married, all nursing staff being required to live on the premises. As an alternative she suggests I might offer my services at Beethoven House, being a Canteen and Soldiers’ Club established in the grounds at Grey Towers, to which end I should contact a Miss Hilda Williams. Matron believes the work would not be dissimilar to that I carried out in my early months at 1st Eastern. I thanked her and left — and cannot now decide whether I should feel angry with Charles for approaching Matron without my knowledge, or relieved that they both find it quite natural that I should wish to continue nursing after we are married.

  31 March, Deans Park

  I have written to Charles giving a summary of my interview with Matron.

  Weather positively atrocious — it begins to feel as if this winter will never end. Eugenie is despondent over the failure of her brassica crop, the ground being too waterlogged.

  Sunday 1 April

  Church, though I would rather have slept in, and thereafter subjected to fittings and debates, Aunt M being fixated upon my Trousseau, the gathering of which is No Easy Matter in These Difficult Times.

  3 April, 1st Eastern

  Winifred is back at 1st Eastern! She says she felt it best to test her wrist under circumstances less trying before returning to the Front, which she is determined to do. She is looking very tired; I hope it does not prove too much.

  4 April

  Charles confirms in his latest letter that shipping losses are even greater than the newspapers report: approximately 500 Merchant and Naval vessels have been sunk since early February. How smug those U-boat Captains must be, hiding safe beneath the waves and firing on passing ships without risk of reprisal.

  5 April

  Winifred does not complain, but it is clear her wrist causes considerable discomfort.

  Good Friday, 6 April

  Good Friday, and so it seems: America has entered the War, President Wilson declaring ‘the world must be safe for democracy’. I wonder that it took him so long to notice it was under threat. And now I must dash or miss my train.

  7 April, Deans Park

  Charles writes that the feeling in the War Office is much improved and we should all justifiably enjoy a lift in spirits. For himself, he says he has only to think of me to achieve it.

  Easter Sunday, 8 April

  Rather lovely Easter Service. Monty delighted to be home.

  10 April, 1st Eastern

  Favourable reports from Arras: despite poor weather the men, mainly ANZACs and Canadians, have taken the ridge at Vimy, gaining command over the surrounding countryside. The newspapers proclaim that the Tide of War has Turned.