chain around her friend’s neck.
“I’ve been thinking of asking for a transfer to England, so I can be near Dick.”
Amy’s blood froze in her veins. “Millie, he’s dead.”
“No, we’re going to meet in England. He promised.” Millie drifted a little way ahead.
Since Dick had been killed at the Nek, Millie lived in a twilight world of anguish, caring for the wounded with an intense, frightening dedication. Only with her patients did she show any emotion; off duty, she erected a barrier around herself that even Amy could not storm.
Now and again she had lapses when she spoke as if Dick were still alive. Goosebumps pebbled Amy’s skin as she hurried to catch up with her friend.
“Millie, wait. No need to run.” A wagon lumbered past, and the elderly farmer raised his hand to them.
“ Bonjour, monsieur ,” she called out in greeting, and his weather-worn face creaked into a smile.
Their hospital was situated in a chateau surrounded by an orchard full of blossoming trees. Tall poplars guarded the winding drive, and window boxes along the chateau’s façade were full of golden daffodils and blue hyacinths. The nurses slept in the attics under the roofline, while the lower floors were set up into wards.
“Where have you two been?” Ella minced up to them.
“Taking a stroll through the fields,” Amy said.
“A stroll! I should put you both on report. We’ve just been warned to expect heavy casualties, and the two of you are wandering around the countryside.” Ella’s green eyes flashed.
She was a beautiful woman, Amy had to admit it, but such perfection was somehow repelling.
“We’re sorry, but Major Vincent told Millie and me to take a short break.”
“All right. Get the operating theatres ready. You know how lazy some of the orderlies are.”
Within two hours the wounded started streaming in, English Tommies, mostly, evacuated from Casualty Clearing Stations just behind the lines. The stretcher-bearers unloaded them from the ambulances and carried them inside, while the nursing staff decided the order of priority.
Amy decided one blond-haired young soldier couldn’t wait when she lifted the pad covering his gaping thigh wound.
“Will I lose my leg, Sister?”
She stared into his ashen face and lied. “Of course not. We’ll have you good as new in no time. This isn’t an ordinary hospital, you know. It’s an Australian one.”
He clutched at her hand. “I’d rather die than be limbless.”
“Get Major Vincent, please, orderly,” she instructed. “This patient can’t wait.”
A large number of wounds needed to be opened and drained. Some patients had to have lumps of metal dug out of their bodies. Others screamed and sobbed uncontrollably because their minds had snapped under the horror of battle.
By midnight, all their patients were settled in. As Amy wearily made her way between the beds, she almost swayed with fatigue.
“Lucy, Lucy.” She stopped and glanced down at a young soldier whose eyes were swathed in bandages. “I can’t see you, Lucy.” He rolled his head restlessly from side to side.
She sat on the bed and clasped his hand. “Is Lucy your sister?” she asked him softly.
“My…my wife,” he whispered. “We got married five weeks before I left for the front.”
So this was a member of Lord Kitchener’s new army, a replacement for those who had been slaughtered in Flanders.
“Shh, you must rest. We’ll be sending you home soon.”
“I won’t have to fight anymore?” His whole body shook. “Nurse, I was so frightened. So much noise—bombardment, yelling, screaming…”
“I know. Try to sleep.” She patted his hand. “Dream of Lucy and be happy.”
She sat by the bed stroking his hand, and as soon as he fell asleep she tiptoed away.
Upstairs in the room she shared with Millie and Jane, she prepared for bed. Then, instead of slipping under the sheets, she picked up her Bible.
Where would Mark be now? He had written only once, a
“I’ve been thinking of asking for a transfer to England, so I can be near Dick.”
Amy’s blood froze in her veins. “Millie, he’s dead.”
“No, we’re going to meet in England. He promised.” Millie drifted a little way ahead.
Since Dick had been killed at the Nek, Millie lived in a twilight world of anguish, caring for the wounded with an intense, frightening dedication. Only with her patients did she show any emotion; off duty, she erected a barrier around herself that even Amy could not storm.
Now and again she had lapses when she spoke as if Dick were still alive. Goosebumps pebbled Amy’s skin as she hurried to catch up with her friend.
“Millie, wait. No need to run.” A wagon lumbered past, and the elderly farmer raised his hand to them.
“ Bonjour, monsieur ,” she called out in greeting, and his weather-worn face creaked into a smile.
Their hospital was situated in a chateau surrounded by an orchard full of blossoming trees. Tall poplars guarded the winding drive, and window boxes along the chateau’s façade were full of golden daffodils and blue hyacinths. The nurses slept in the attics under the roofline, while the lower floors were set up into wards.
“Where have you two been?” Ella minced up to them.
“Taking a stroll through the fields,” Amy said.
“A stroll! I should put you both on report. We’ve just been warned to expect heavy casualties, and the two of you are wandering around the countryside.” Ella’s green eyes flashed.
She was a beautiful woman, Amy had to admit it, but such perfection was somehow repelling.
“We’re sorry, but Major Vincent told Millie and me to take a short break.”
“All right. Get the operating theatres ready. You know how lazy some of the orderlies are.”
Within two hours the wounded started streaming in, English Tommies, mostly, evacuated from Casualty Clearing Stations just behind the lines. The stretcher-bearers unloaded them from the ambulances and carried them inside, while the nursing staff decided the order of priority.
Amy decided one blond-haired young soldier couldn’t wait when she lifted the pad covering his gaping thigh wound.
“Will I lose my leg, Sister?”
She stared into his ashen face and lied. “Of course not. We’ll have you good as new in no time. This isn’t an ordinary hospital, you know. It’s an Australian one.”
He clutched at her hand. “I’d rather die than be limbless.”
“Get Major Vincent, please, orderly,” she instructed. “This patient can’t wait.”
A large number of wounds needed to be opened and drained. Some patients had to have lumps of metal dug out of their bodies. Others screamed and sobbed uncontrollably because their minds had snapped under the horror of battle.
By midnight, all their patients were settled in. As Amy wearily made her way between the beds, she almost swayed with fatigue.
“Lucy, Lucy.” She stopped and glanced down at a young soldier whose eyes were swathed in bandages. “I can’t see you, Lucy.” He rolled his head restlessly from side to side.
She sat on the bed and clasped his hand. “Is Lucy your sister?” she asked him softly.
“My…my wife,” he whispered. “We got married five weeks before I left for the front.”
So this was a member of Lord Kitchener’s new army, a replacement for those who had been slaughtered in Flanders.
“Shh, you must rest. We’ll be sending you home soon.”
“I won’t have to fight anymore?” His whole body shook. “Nurse, I was so frightened. So much noise—bombardment, yelling, screaming…”
“I know. Try to sleep.” She patted his hand. “Dream of Lucy and be happy.”
She sat by the bed stroking his hand, and as soon as he fell asleep she tiptoed away.
Upstairs in the room she shared with Millie and Jane, she prepared for bed. Then, instead of slipping under the sheets, she picked up her Bible.
Where would Mark be now? He had written only once, a
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