Billy Barcroft, R.N.A.S.: A Story of the Great War
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CHAPTER XXXIX
AND LAST
A WEEK later found Flight-sub-lieutenant Barcroft a patient in alarge Naval Hospital somewhere on the East Coast. His case was aninteresting one as far as the medical officers were concerned, butfar from it from a strictly personal point of view. The medicos,expressing their belief in their ability to restore the youngofficer's powers of speech and hearing, were unremitting in theirattentions, so far without success.
Billy, after the first fit of despondency had passed, was still farfrom sanguine as to the result of the numerous operations andexperiments performed by the hospital staff. Unable to communicatewith any one except by means of paper and pencil, he had alreadycome to the conclusion that his flying days were over. He might hopefor a partial restoration of his lost senses, but nothing more.There was one thought to console him. He had not been rendered blindby the terrific glare as his gigantic victim was blown sky high. Theblessing of sight was still his.
It irritated him beyond measure to see other patients conversing, towatch their lips move, their expressive gestures of understanding,and yet to live in an atmosphere of profound silence. It washumiliating to have to approach a fellow-creature and laboriouslycommit to paper a request for a most trivial thing; exasperating tofollow the comparatively tedious pencil as the person addressed inthis manner wrote his reply.
Still living in hopes Barcroft had studiously concealed the news ofhis affliction from his parents and from Betty. His letters to themwere as light and cheerful as of yore, yet he felt that they were asham. Sooner or later, unless medical science was able to conquerthe baffling case, he would be compelled to have to admit that hewas--a useless encumbrance: those were his thoughts.
Almost every one of his brother airmen had visited him since hisarrival at the hospital, for the "Hippodrome," having returned toher base, was lying in harbour almost within sight of the hugebuilding. Some tried, rather dismally, to be funny, hoping to cheertheir luckless comrade; others were so sympathetic that theydepressed Billy almost to a state of desperation. It was difficultto appear at ease in the presence of a deaf and dumb man--andBarcroft knew it.
One afternoon John Fuller came to see him. It was the second visitthat day. The lieutenant was practical even when in the presence ofhis afflicted shipmate, for instead of sitting down and laboriouslywriting out the preliminaries to a long-drawn-out conversation hedrew a paper from his pocket and handed it to his chum. And this iswhat Barcroft read:--
"Congrats, old man. Just heard from 'topsides,' absolutely official:the battleship you strafed was the 'Schlesien,' complement 660. Ourskipper has put in a claim on your behalf at 5 pounds a head. Unlessthe judge decides that the prize money is to be divided between the'Hippo's' ships-company, which is unlikely, Kirkwood and you split3,300 pounds between you. You are also promoted to Flight-lieutenantand have been awarded the V.C. and Kirkwood the D.S.O. You'll seethat in to-morrow's _Gazette_."
For a full half-minute Barcroft looked with strained inquiry at hischum. His head seemed whirling round and round, then like a roarfrom a cannon something seemed to beat upon his ear-drums.
"It's too good to be true," he said.
"Absolute fact," replied Fuller. "Bless my soul, Billy, you canspeak!"
"And hear, too," almost shouted the delighted newly-fledgedlieutenant. "Come along, John; I'm off to the telegraph office. Keepon speaking, old bird. It's a delight. I hardly expected to hear youagain."
The hospital post-office was at the far end of the building.Entering the somewhat crowded room, Billy, with a trembling hand,filled in a form and gave it to a girl clerk.
The girl took the form, counted the words and scribbled something ona piece of paper and offered it to the flight-lieutenant.
"Thank you," said Billy smiling. "But it isn't necessary now, thankHeaven. I can both speak and hear."
"I am glad, Mr. Barcroft," replied the girl, who knew all about thecircumstances under which he had received his injuries. "Reply paid?That will be eighteen-pence. You may get a reply in an hour."
The telegram that Billy had dispatched was to Miss Betty Deringhame.It was:
"Am applying for leave. Will you fulfil your promise?"
After a seemingly interminable wait Billy's reply was received.
His message consisted of nine words; hers of one only: "Yes."
It was all that Flight-lieutenant Barcroft, V.C., desired. His cupof happiness was filled to overflowing.
THE END
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