felt like the ovens of Hades had opened wide to spew out all their heat.
****
For days the hospital ships ran a continuous shuttle service from Gallipoli to hospitals in Imbros, Mudros, Malta, and Alexandria, then back again.
One of the orderlies told Amy that Guy’s arm had been amputated below the elbow, as she’d feared it would be, but he was making steady progress in hospital on Lemnos. This relieved her mind, although she would not be completely satisfied until she saw him for herself.
Even worse news soon followed. Elements of the Eighth Victorian and the Tenth Western Australian Light Horse regiments were virtually wiped out in futile charges over the parapets at the Nek on the seventh of August 1915. This attack had been instigated as a diversionary action to cover the landing of British troops at Suvla.
In the battle Dick had been killed. As soon as she heard the news, Amy raced up on deck to find Millie. She would be distraught. Oh, God. Where was Mark? Lying dead somewhere? Maybe he was with Dick?
She found Millie marching up and down the deck, beating her forehead with her open hands, tears coursing down her cheeks.
“Oh, Millie, I’m so sorry.” Amy tried to put her arms around her friend in comfort, but Millie pushed her away and continued her angry marching.
“Our boys are being slaughtered,” she ranted. “While English soldiers sip tea on the beaches, waiting for orders to advance.”
On and on a distraught, bitter Millie went on. “Those bloody generals. Their incompetence killed Dick. They should be held accountable. He was butchered, and for what?”
Amy had no words of comfort to offer her. Many of the nurses had lost someone dear to them over the last few terrible days. Jules, another young friend from Kilmore, had been one of those killed in the mad, brave charge at the Nek. No word on Mark. She didn’t know whether he was alive or dead. He might be lying out in no-man’s land, calling for her, his lifeblood pouring into the ground. It was sheer torture not knowing, but she tried to push aside her own worry and fear to comfort Millie.
“You can’t go on like this, Millie.” For thirty-six hours Millie had worked non-stop, and Amy didn’t know what to do.
“Dick wouldn’t want you making yourself ill. Please, Millie.”
She tried to get through to her friend, but Millie’s mind had frozen over with grief and she would not listen. Chalk white, her face was rigid with a frightening determination.
****
After three hot and exhausting weeks, they returned to Lemnos. As soon as she could, Amy raced in to see Guy, who sat propped up in bed with his arm swathed in bandages.
“Hello, Smithy,” he greeted her with a half grin.
“How do you feel?” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“Not bad. I’ve had a letter from Sophie. Guess what?”
She sat down on his bed. “Tell me.”
“I’m a father.”
“Congratulations.” She hugged him, making sure not to hurt his bandaged arm. “A boy?”
“Nah, a girl, but Smithy, look at this.” From beneath his pillow he pulled out a letter crumpled from much reading. He shook it until some baby hair fell out onto the bedclothes.
“She’s blonde like us, seven pounds in weight, and nineteen inches long,” he boasted. “Here, read it all.” He thrust the letter into her hands, and Amy skimmed through the neatly penned lines.
“I’m glad everything turned out so well, and I like Elizabeth for a name.”
She sat on the bed and picked up his hand. “Are you managing all right?” She glanced at his bandaged stump.
“Yes. Lucky it’s my left arm. I felt terribly bitter for the first few days, but after seeing some of these other poor devils, I count myself as being fortunate. I’m being transferred to Alexandria, and then it’s home.” He sighed. “I only wish you were coming with me.”
“There’s too much work to be done here. Besides, I couldn’t leave Mark.”
He squeezed her hand. “There’s no
****
For days the hospital ships ran a continuous shuttle service from Gallipoli to hospitals in Imbros, Mudros, Malta, and Alexandria, then back again.
One of the orderlies told Amy that Guy’s arm had been amputated below the elbow, as she’d feared it would be, but he was making steady progress in hospital on Lemnos. This relieved her mind, although she would not be completely satisfied until she saw him for herself.
Even worse news soon followed. Elements of the Eighth Victorian and the Tenth Western Australian Light Horse regiments were virtually wiped out in futile charges over the parapets at the Nek on the seventh of August 1915. This attack had been instigated as a diversionary action to cover the landing of British troops at Suvla.
In the battle Dick had been killed. As soon as she heard the news, Amy raced up on deck to find Millie. She would be distraught. Oh, God. Where was Mark? Lying dead somewhere? Maybe he was with Dick?
She found Millie marching up and down the deck, beating her forehead with her open hands, tears coursing down her cheeks.
“Oh, Millie, I’m so sorry.” Amy tried to put her arms around her friend in comfort, but Millie pushed her away and continued her angry marching.
“Our boys are being slaughtered,” she ranted. “While English soldiers sip tea on the beaches, waiting for orders to advance.”
On and on a distraught, bitter Millie went on. “Those bloody generals. Their incompetence killed Dick. They should be held accountable. He was butchered, and for what?”
Amy had no words of comfort to offer her. Many of the nurses had lost someone dear to them over the last few terrible days. Jules, another young friend from Kilmore, had been one of those killed in the mad, brave charge at the Nek. No word on Mark. She didn’t know whether he was alive or dead. He might be lying out in no-man’s land, calling for her, his lifeblood pouring into the ground. It was sheer torture not knowing, but she tried to push aside her own worry and fear to comfort Millie.
“You can’t go on like this, Millie.” For thirty-six hours Millie had worked non-stop, and Amy didn’t know what to do.
“Dick wouldn’t want you making yourself ill. Please, Millie.”
She tried to get through to her friend, but Millie’s mind had frozen over with grief and she would not listen. Chalk white, her face was rigid with a frightening determination.
****
After three hot and exhausting weeks, they returned to Lemnos. As soon as she could, Amy raced in to see Guy, who sat propped up in bed with his arm swathed in bandages.
“Hello, Smithy,” he greeted her with a half grin.
“How do you feel?” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“Not bad. I’ve had a letter from Sophie. Guess what?”
She sat down on his bed. “Tell me.”
“I’m a father.”
“Congratulations.” She hugged him, making sure not to hurt his bandaged arm. “A boy?”
“Nah, a girl, but Smithy, look at this.” From beneath his pillow he pulled out a letter crumpled from much reading. He shook it until some baby hair fell out onto the bedclothes.
“She’s blonde like us, seven pounds in weight, and nineteen inches long,” he boasted. “Here, read it all.” He thrust the letter into her hands, and Amy skimmed through the neatly penned lines.
“I’m glad everything turned out so well, and I like Elizabeth for a name.”
She sat on the bed and picked up his hand. “Are you managing all right?” She glanced at his bandaged stump.
“Yes. Lucky it’s my left arm. I felt terribly bitter for the first few days, but after seeing some of these other poor devils, I count myself as being fortunate. I’m being transferred to Alexandria, and then it’s home.” He sighed. “I only wish you were coming with me.”
“There’s too much work to be done here. Besides, I couldn’t leave Mark.”
He squeezed her hand. “There’s no
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