While My Heart Beats

by Erin McKenzie

  “What about their lungs?” Johanna said.

  “We do whatever we can to get them to cough up the poisoned phlegm—menthol, camphor, eucalyptus. When they do get it up, they are much more comfortable. It’s been just awful, Sister. I thought chlorine gas was the worst, until now. This mustard gas burns them even through their clothes, and it doesn’t dissipate. You’ll need to keep your gas mask handy and mind what you touch.”

  “Thank you, Sister. Where can I leave my bag?”

  “Just there for now. Ready?”

  “Ready.” Johanna began on one end of the tent, irrigating the burning eyes of one soldier after another. Those that had been farthest away from the exploding gas canisters were able to stand or sit elsewhere after treatment, vacating the beds for the more seriously affected. Johanna was shocked at the size of the blisters, sometimes covering the length of a man’s body. They were yellow, pus-filled, and extremely painful. Some of the men’s faces had been protected by their respirators, but their bodies bore the brunt of the exposure.

  “Thank you, Sister,” the men said, one after the other, as she relieved their pain as gently as she could. An overwhelming anger welled up inside her, making her hands shake. She couldn’t rid her mind of all the horrific wounds she’d seen. What had the world gained from all this?

  Twenty-eight hours later, Johanna fell exhausted onto a cot in the nurses’ tent. The guns boomed in the distance, rattling her nerves and making her head ache. The only thing in the world that could calm her was the voice and touch of a woman whom she’d never see again. Futile tears soaked the pillow beneath her head, until there were no more left to cry.

  * * *

  France seemed like a million miles away to Ellie now, because Johanna was there and wasn’t answering her letters. Unable to reach her, Ellie was frustrated and fearful. What was going through Johanna’s mind? Why would she throw away what they had? What if something had happened to her? Two months had gone by with no word, and not knowing was taking its toll.

  “I expected you to have bounced back a bit more by now, Eleanor,” Dr. Phipps said. He had been their family physician all of Ellie’s life, and he now sat with her in the parlor after the latest checkup. Thankfully, her mother had gone into London with Papa for the day and wasn’t eavesdropping.

  “I’m fine, Doctor, just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well,” Ellie said.

  “Have your nightmares continued?” She, like so many others, relived the horrors of the war in her dreams.

  “Yes, but not as frequently.” Lately, her worry for Johanna disrupted her sleep far more often.

  “I can give you a sleeping draught if you’d like. Your lungs sound clear, but it may take several more months for you to regain your full strength. Are you going for walks as we discussed?”

  “Yes, I walk around the gardens or to the orchard and back, but I still get winded fairly quickly,” Ellie responded.

  “Unfortunately, that’s to be expected.”

  Ellie sighed. “I guess there’s no chance of me rejoining my Voluntary Aid Detachment, then.”

  “Heavens, no,” the doctor said, his bushy white eyebrows shooting straight into his hairline. “Why would you want to go back?”

  Ellie thought about the long hours, the mangled bodies, the extreme cold and heat, the lice, the stench, but none of that mattered. “I was useful there, Doctor, and everything I did made a difference,” she said. “Every time I have to sit through one of Mother’s frivolous little tea parties, I want to scream. You must know what I mean.”

  The doctor chuckled. “Yes, young lady, I do, though I’m happy to have a good reason to keep you here where it’s safe. Your mother is a creature of habit, as are most of her friends, my wife included. But in this difficult time, routine is likely what keeps them from going mad with worry.”

  Ellie hadn’t thought of it that way, and she softened a little. “I also have a dear friend there whom I can’t reach, and I’m concerned for her. Should I write to the matron and inquire?”

  “Don’t see why not,” Dr. Phipps said. “Now, I must be going. Mind my instructions, Eleanor. You cannot rush your recovery.”

  “All right, I’ll behave. Thank you, Doctor.”

  As soon as he left, Ellie began drafting a letter to Matron Campbell. With any luck, she’d hear something back about Johanna. She clung to this slim hope, because she couldn’t bear to think of the alternative.

  * * *

  Several days later, as she sat with her parents eating breakfast, the butler brought the mail.

  “Here’s one for you, Ellie,” Papa said.

  Ellie’s heart skipped a beat as she took the envelope. The handwriting was unfamiliar. Too impatient to wait, she opened the letter with trembling hands.

  Dear Miss Winthrop,

  I received your letter and am so pleased to hear you are doing well. I cannot help but tell you, though, that your excellent work is sorely missed here. We, of course, will carry on until the end.

  Please do not be alarmed, but I am aware that Sister Lennox stopped communication with you, and why. She has convinced herself that she was right to do so, but it pains me to think of how you both must feel. You should know that nurses were again called up to the front, and she went. I imagine she will be unhappy that I’ve told you, but if I were in your shoes, I should want to know. She is at CCS Brandhoek, near Ypres, for the foreseeable future, as they were in dire need of more nurses. I don’t know if hearing from you now would be a help or a hindrance to her, hell-bent as she was to leave this place behind. I’ve no idea when I’ll see her again, but if I can, I will be sure to let you know of her welfare.

  Forgive my boldness, but I advise you to be patient. Sister Lennox is stubborn, but a truer heart never beat. When this war is over, perhaps you will find each other again.

  With warmest regards,

  Matron Fiona Campbell

  “Eleanor, what is it?” Mother said.

  Ellie wiped her eyes. “It’s nothing. Please excuse me.” She rose from the table, feeling the weight of her parents’ eyes on her, and walked out, her sparks of worry for Johanna now a raging inferno. What had made her confide in Matron Campbell, and what was she running away from now?

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Johanna?” A mud-covered soldier stepped toward her, nearly unrecognizable but for one thing—the bright blue eyes that smiled down at her.

  “Oh my God, Theo!” She moved to embrace him, but he held up a hand.

  “Don’t. I’m beyond filthy, if you haven’t noticed. Just spent the last hour scraping layers of muck off our horses’ legs. The poor beasts can barely walk. What are you doing here?”

  “They needed help, if you haven’t noticed,” she said, smiling for the first time in what felt like forever. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. How’s the hand?”

  Theo grimaced. “The rest of it’s still there, but it’s stiff and hurts like the devil sometimes. Nothing like what these fellows have to bear, though.” He gestured toward the rows of stretchers on the ground, holding burned and broken men. “We were sent here with two other transport units. Seems modern conveyances can’t hold a candle to good old-fashioned horse power in this mud. Even so, we lost three this week alone.” He ran his hand through his hair, and Johanna could see it trembling. “Damn shame. These animals give their all to us and will work until they drop.”

  “Sister, water,” someone gasped nearby.

  “Theo, I have to go. Will you be here awhile?”

  “I’ve ordered a rest for the horses, at least twenty-four hours if we can get away with it. They’ll be no use to us otherwise. Will you have a break at all?”

  “Who knows?” Johanna flinched when a whizbang landed on the other side of the rail line, not five hundred meters away. “Depends on how busy the Germans will be tonight. If I can, I’ll come find you. You’ve lifted my spirits, I can tell you.”

  “Likewise, dear Sister,” he replied, bowing formally.

/>   A laugh bubbled up from Johanna’s throat, the sound strange to her ears. “You look ridiculous.”

  He grinned, his teeth a stark white in his dirt-blackened face. “And you look like an angel.”

  An image of Ellie popped into Johanna’s head, causing an ache so powerful she gasped. “You’re wrong,” she said. “There are no angels here.”

  After several more hours of tending to the wounded, Johanna was finally relieved for a rest. Despite being bone-tired, she went in search of Theo. He was with the unscathed members of his unit on the western edge of the camp, watching the farrier clean a horse’s hooves.

  “Theo,” she said, and he smiled, looking so much like Ellie she nearly hugged him. He had cleaned up a bit, and his too long red hair stuck up at odd angles, making him look like a schoolboy.

  “You should be resting, Sister Lennox, but I won’t pretend to be sorry you’re here. Come, let’s get you off your feet.” He threw a gray horse blanket over a bale of hay and motioned for Johanna to sit.

  She sank down onto the makeshift seat with a groan. “Thank you. How are the horses?”

  “Most are perking up a bit, but two are lame. I’m hoping more rest and some poultices on the knees will cure them. I’ll be leaving one of my drivers here to tend them when we head out tomorrow.”

  “Och, you’ll not have much of a rest, then.”

  “We’ll manage,” he said. “Can’t sit about idle when there are wounded to be brought in.”

  Johanna noticed once again the slight trembling of Theo’s hands and the strain on his face. “How are you holding up out there? The horses aren’t the only ones suffering, I reckon.”

  Theo’s shoulders sagged for the briefest of moments. “It’s bloody awful out there, if you want the truth. When it gets particularly bad, I console myself with the knowledge that our work is saving lives. I imagine you must do the same, eh?”

  Johanna nodded. The scope of pain and death was great and could easily overwhelm the mind. “I’ve learned to focus on the details in front of me—assess the damage, bandage this, clean that, give an injection, then go to the next one. It’s the only way I can keep on.”

  “Just so, but enough of all that, now. Let’s talk about more pleasant topics. Lately I’ve been thinking about what I’d most like to eat. For me, it’s one of Cook’s raspberry tarts with clotted cream. How about you?”

  The last decent meal Johanna had eaten was the bouillabaisse she and Ellie shared in Paris. Good God, did everything have to come back to memories of her? She shrugged. “I don’t know. Anything fresh that hasn’t come in a tin, I suppose.”

  “Right.”

  Theo was quiet for a bit, and they sat watching the men tend to the horses. Johanna was so tired she nearly drifted off right on that bale of hay.

  “Say, have you heard from Ellie lately?” Theo said.

  The question startled her, piercing through the fog of fatigue, and she felt the familiar ache. He couldn’t know that the merest thought of Ellie brought her pain. She schooled her features as best she could. “I haven’t. You?”

  “Had a letter from her a month ago. Old Doc Phipps is making her rest, but she’s chomping at the bit to be out and about. If I know my sister, she’s probably going stir-crazy.”

  Johanna knew she shouldn’t ask more, but her traitorous mouth forged ahead. “What will she be up to, now she’s back home?”

  “Oh, probably giving Mother fits. You know, keeping company with suffragettes and balking against the tidy box she is expected to fit in. Ellie is stubborn, smart, and knows her mind. Growing up with her has ruined me for all the sweet little girls back home who can’t step over a puddle on their own. She really is quite amazing, but if you tell her I said so, I shall never speak to you again.”

  Johanna marveled at Theo’s humor in the midst of these darkest of days. She had grown quite fond of him in their short acquaintance and thought of him as a rare friend. It made letting go of Ellie even harder.

  “Tell me about you,” Theo said. “Have you got a lucky bloke somewhere?”

  “Me? Heavens, no,” Johanna said, feeling herself blush. “Nursing has taken all my time these last few years.” Not to mention that loving Ellie had cured her of ever wanting a bloke.

  “That’s a shame,” Theo said. He gazed at her, head cocked to the side, as if seeing her for the first time. “You’re a fine woman, Sister Lennox.”

  Johanna blinked at him for a moment. She hadn’t seen this coming. “Are you flirting with me, Lieutenant?”

  Theo at least had the grace to look embarrassed. “Um, I wouldn’t say flirting, exactly.” He stared at his boots, and Johanna felt a surge of affection for him. She knew how badly the men needed the comfort and companionship of women. The shocking rate of syphilis among the soldiers meant many of them found it wherever they could.

  “Good. I wouldn’t want to spoil our friendship.” She smiled to soften her words. “I would love to talk some more, but I really need some rest. Find me before you leave?”

  Theo nodded. “I will. And,” he said, grinning, “thanks for letting me down easy.”

  Johanna chuckled. “As my granny used to say, Yer aff yer heid.”

  Theo laughed. “My grandfather always said, Don’t be daft. Those old folks were harsh.”

  A shell exploded in the near distance and Johanna flinched. “I’m just glad they’re not here to see this.”

  * * *

  As the battle at Passchendaele raged on, the casualty clearing station staff worked nonstop to keep up with the wounded. Johanna continued to provide whatever care she could to the men, but inside she was numb. Even in sleep, she never relaxed, and she wondered if she ever would again.

  The Germans had been bolder in their attacks near the rail line, where troop transport and ambulance trains came and went frequently. The booming and banging of artillery, the moans and screams of men, the rattle and rumble of wagons and motors became the musical score to this macabre tragedy.

  Johanna was on triage, sorting the mostly alive from the mostly dead. Stretching her back for a moment, she looked up at the night sky. It was clear, a million stars shining and a full moon chasing away the shadows. Such a night helped her work, but she felt a sudden sense of foreboding, because such a night was also ideal for aerial bombing. She worked as fast as she could, tagging some for immediate surgery, some for chemical burn treatment, and others to be cleaned up and loaded onto the waiting ambulance train for transport to a base hospital.

  “Sister Lennox, I’ll take over here,” the head nurse called from her left. “I need you on dressings inside.”

  Johanna nodded and went into the tent, where two other sisters were cutting off mud-brown uniforms to expose mud-brown and blood-red field dressings. They fell into a rhythm—strip off clothing, give the man a quick wash, remove the soiled dressings, clean and disinfect the wound, apply clean dressings, give a saline injection or perhaps morphia, and call for an orderly to move the man to surgery or to the train. Then go to the next, and the next—they just never stopped coming. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to stop, but she couldn’t. Nearly every wound was infected, full of pus and maggots—the longer the soldiers waited for treatment, the greater the chance that they would die.

  A nearby explosion shook the ground, rattling the tent and extinguishing the lanterns. In the next moment, Johanna’s world began moving in slow motion. She felt her eardrums burst and she was lifted off the ground, as if a giant hand had picked her up and thrown her aside like a rag doll. Pain exploded in her shoulder and cheek, and then she was floating. A deep calm settled over her, and everything faded to nothingness.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  One month later

  “I can’t understand why you insist on being rude to those gentlemen,” Mother said over breakfast. “It’s embarrassing to keep sending them away with no good explanation.”

  “Why should you be embarrassed, Mother? They’re not looking to marry you,” Ellie s
aid.

  “Well, I’m the only woman in my circle with a twenty-four-year-old unmarried daughter, that’s why. People talk, you know.”

  Ellie felt her face flush as her temper flared. “So you would have me marry some old codger whom I can barely stand, let alone love, just so your lady friends won’t look down on you? My happiness apparently isn’t a factor here.”

  “If you’re waiting around for love and happiness to find you, you most assuredly will be an old maid. A woman of your station is expected to marry well and have children—that’s all there is to it.”

  Ellie had heard enough. “I’m sure Papa would love to hear your views on a happy marriage. At any rate, Mother, you can bloody well take your expectations and feed them to the pigs.”

  “Eleanor Winthrop!”

  “The war has taught me, among other things, that life is too short to settle, and I’d rather be alone than stuck in an unhappy marriage just because someone expects it of me.” Despite the shock and disapproval on her mother’s face, Ellie plowed on. “I hope I’ve made myself clear, Mother, for I shan’t receive even one more gentleman caller. I shall decide with whom I spend my time.”

  Ellie’s heart pounded—she’d stood her ground, and it felt incredible. She watched her mother sputter and fuss, but this time, she wouldn’t give in.

  “I don’t know when you became so contrary and disrespectful. I thought I had raised a daughter who knew her place and her duty.”