by Emma Fraser
‘You could come with me to America when this is over. There’s nothing to stop you now. I’ve made money, Jess. I have a motor-car, my own house with two bedrooms and an inside bathroom, and some land. You should see America. You can be whoever you want to be.’
Jessie smiled. ‘Perhaps one day, but I’m not ready to give up looking for Tommy. You must have heard stories of people who thought their husband or son or brother was dead, but he turned up eventually.’
‘Oh, Jess,’ the sympathy in his eyes made her blood freeze, ‘I’m not saying don’t give up hope but don’t count on finding him alive. So many men have been killed and they can’t even find…’ He looked at his feet. ‘Forget I said that.’
‘You were going to say that they don’t always find the bodies, weren’t you? You were going to say that sometimes there isn’t a body left to be found. I know that, Archie. I didn’t before I came here, but I do now. Until the war is over, though, and all the men have returned home, I’m going to believe he’s in a prisoner-of-war camp or doesn’t know who he is. They say many men have lost their memories and Tommy may be one of them. His captain wrote to me and told me that no one saw what happened to him. That’s what I’m holding on to.’
She looked at her fob watch. She’d been away for some time, but Matron could go hang. There were enough staff on the ward to look after the patients and Jessie could be spared for a little longer.
Then another thought struck her. ‘Lady Dorothea’s here, Archie, Lord Maxwell’s sister. She’s working as an ambulance driver, same as you. What if she finds out who you really are and tells someone? They can still arrest you – even if there’s a war on. You need to leave.’
His mouth settled into the stubborn line she knew so well. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Jessie. Not until the war’s over.’
‘Oh, Archie, don’t you see you have to? Not just from here but from France. It’s too dangerous. Go back to America where you’ll be safe.’
Archie placed his finger under her chin and tipped it so that she was looking into his eyes. ‘I’m not leaving,’ he repeated. ‘I’ve only just found you again and I’m needed here.’
‘But—’
‘No buts. I’m staying and that’s all there is to it, but I won’t come back to the abbey, if that will make you feel better.’ He pulled a notebook from his pocket, ripped out a page and wrote on it. ‘That’s my address. Ask anyone where to find Scotty and they’ll tell you.’ He folded her hand over the scrap of paper. ‘For God’s sake, Jess, look after yourself.’
Chapter 32
Serbia, January 1915
Isabel held up her dress as she stepped over the mud. After almost three days of being on a train, boat and another train she was finally at Kragujevatz and so close to the front line that every now and then a flash lit up the rain-filled sky.
The town, with its light stone buildings built around narrow muddy streets, was not the most attractive Isabel had ever seen but its location, surrounded by high mountains, was breathtaking.
‘It reminds me a bit of Skye,’ Isabel said to her companion. She had met Dr Alice Sinclair in Salonika and the two women had travelled together, the rest of the unit having arrived the week before. Dr Sinclair was older than her and had been qualified for several years. That much she had found out when they’d shared supper on the train before going to sleep. She prayed that she wouldn’t let herself down in front of these more experienced women.
‘Is that where you’re from?’ Alice asked.
‘Not exactly. My father had a practice there before he died.’
They picked their way through the cobbled streets until they came to a small building. Alice glanced at the address on a letter she took from her pocket and frowned. ‘This is it,’ she said. ‘Home for the next few months.’
They stepped into the hall to find a woman wearing the uniform of the Scottish Women’s Hospital walking towards them. She was younger than Dr Sinclair, perhaps in her mid-thirties, and had a long face that some might have found unattractive and overly severe, if it hadn’t been for the mischievous light in her dark green eyes.
She held out her hand. ‘Good. Two new recruits. I’m so sorry, I meant to send someone to meet you, but it’s been dreadfully busy here.’ She peered behind them hopefully. ‘Do tell me you’ve brought some nurses with you?’
‘Sorry. It’s just us,’ Isabel replied.
‘I’m to tell you that HQ is working on getting more staff to you,’ Alice said. ‘In the meantime, we’ve to do the best we can.’
The woman frowned, then smiled. ‘Forgive me, I’m forgetting my manners. Cecilia Bradshaw, chief medical officer for my sins. Now, first things first. I’ll show you to your room. I imagine you’ll be wanting a bath.’
They followed Dr Bradshaw along a corridor. ‘We’ve been given this place as our billet,’ she said. ‘It’s basic, but clean.’ She opened a door onto a large room. ‘This used to be one of the wards. We’re using it as a staff dormitory. The kitchen is outside. Find a bed and make yourselves at home. We use the hall downstairs as a sort of living room for when we have time off – not that there’s much of that. Everything is still in a bit of a muddle here, I’m afraid. We’ve taken over a school as our surgical hospital and have agreed to take responsibility for another two hospitals as soon as we can. That will bring our bed numbers up to more than two hundred. The Serbian nurses, bless them, are untrained so pretty much useless. Happily we do have Austrian prisoners whom we’re using as orderlies, so we’re just about managing.’ Dr Bradshaw was looking at her watch. ‘The other hospitals the Serbians run are in a bit of a state so as soon as we can we’re going to have to sort them out too.’
Isabel’s head was reeling with the effort of taking it all in. She didn’t know what she’d expected – injured men, of course, but organised hospitals, not this … disarray. She and Alice exchanged a look.
If Dr Bradshaw noticed their dismay, she gave no indication of it. ‘Now, what surgical experience do you have?’
Alice looked at her feet. ‘None, Doctor.’
‘I have a little,’ Isabel said, ‘mainly gynaecological but some abdominal procedures too.’ Thanks to Maximilian. To her surprise, thinking of him no longer pained her.
Dr Bradshaw seemed pleased. ‘Then you have more surgical experience than most. Have you ever amputated?’
‘No, Doctor, but I’ve read as much as I could about anatomy and surgery.’
A brief smile crossed Dr Bradshaw’s face. ‘You’ll find you become adept at operating while consulting a medical textbook. I’ll start you, Dr MacKenzie, in dressings until I see what you’re made of. Dr Sinclair, I could use you in the fever hospital.’
Isabel tried not to show her disappointment. She would have preferred to be allocated to theatre immediately, although dressings would be better than medical. Alice still looked stunned and disbelieving.
Dr Bradshaw glanced at her watch again. ‘Forgive me, Doctors, but I’m due in theatre. Do have the rest of the day off. Unpack, have a bath, explore the town.’
Isabel was about to protest that she’d rather start work, but the doctor held up a hand. ‘Take the time off. It may be the last chance you get for a while, and I prefer my staff rested with their wits about them when they come on duty. Supper’s at eight. The kitchen isn’t ready yet so we take our meals at the hotel across the road.’ Then, with a final piercing look from her green eyes, she turned on her heel and swept out of the room.
‘Goodness,’ Alice said. ‘She reminds me of a whirlwind.’
Isabel found what appeared to be an empty bed and sat down. The springs groaned and the straw from the mattress stuck into her legs even through the protective cover of the mattress. She took off her hat and laid it beside her.
There were six beds, four of which, judging by the female paraphernalia, were already occupied.
Alice was setting her belongings on the small table next to the remaining vacant bed.
‘More than two hundred beds,’ she mut
tered. ‘And they said there’d be a hundred.’ She picked up her toilet bag. ‘I’m going to find the bathroom and then I’m going to sleep.’ She paused in the doorway. ‘Can you remind me where it is? I have no sense of direction, I’m afraid.’
‘In the courtyard, I believe,’ Isabel replied.
After Alice left, Isabel replaced her hat. She would wait until later to have her bath. Now she wanted to explore the place where she’d be living for the next few months.
She stepped back onto the crowded street, negotiating the uneven cobbles as best she could while trying to keep the hem of her skirt out of the mud. The high-pitched cry of a pig rang through the air as a soldier in Serbian uniform walked past, carrying the poor animal by its hind legs. He smiled cheerfully and touched his cap in a brief salute.
She passed a hotel with several Serbian officers standing outside drinking and was halfway up the road when she heard a familiar voice.
‘No. A turkey,’ the woman said, in a Scottish accent. ‘Not one of those scrawny chickens. I simply must have a turkey.’
Delighted, Isabel hurried over to the woman and tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Maud?’
The woman whirled around. ‘Dr MacKenzie! Well, I’ll be blowed.’ She ignored Isabel’s outstretched fingers and hugged her instead.
‘I knew you’d been sent to join one of the units,’ Isabel said, ‘but I never dreamed it would be here.’ Maud hugged her again and Isabel’s throat tightened. Until now she hadn’t realised how much she had wanted to meet someone she knew, and that it was Maud Tully made it all the more pleasurable. ‘I was given permission to come via Paris so I could spend a few hours with my brother. Otherwise I would have been here last week. Have I missed much?’
Maud tucked Isabel’s arm through hers. ‘Lots! Let’s find a cup of tea – not that it tastes remotely like it – and I’ll tell you everything.’ Maud led her back towards the hotel, threading her way through the Serbian officers at the door, then ushered her into a small sitting room. ‘They keep this little nook for us,’ she said. ‘The Serb officers are lovely, but they do tend to become rather over-zealous when they see us. They know that Dr Bradshaw would have their guts for garters if they followed us in here. She’s perfectly sweet, but rather strict about us not mixing with the men.’
The women exchanged small-talk about Edinburgh and people they knew until their tea arrived.
‘What’s it really like here?’ Isabel asked.
‘It’s ghastly, yet sort of thrilling at the same time. We work so hard we can hardly stand by the end of our shift. Mostly we just fall into bed – sometimes without even undressing.’
‘Do you get many wounded?’
‘More than we can cope with. Are you quite sure you want to hear all of this when you’ve only just arrived? It might make you take the next train home.’ Maud cocked her head to the side and grinned.
‘Go home? Not a chance,’ Isabel replied. ‘I can’t wait to get started. Tell me everything.’
A shadow crossed Maud’s face. ‘We arrived a week ago, expecting to be working in hospitals that were neat and clean. The reality couldn’t have been more different. It was grim.’
Isabel leaned forward, intent on not missing a word.
‘We couldn’t understand at first why stretchers with patients were lying in the streets in the freezing cold,’ Maud continued, ‘but we simply couldn’t walk past them, even though we’d been travelling all night and still hadn’t reached our accommodation. Dr Bradshaw marched straight into the Serbian hospital, for that was what it was, and demanded an explanation while the rest of us went among the stretchers, giving hot drinks and checking on the wounded.’ She shuddered. ‘Some of the men were dead, others were near enough dead and those who weren’t looked as if they might die at any moment. When Dr Bradshaw came out of the hospital, her face was white. Apparently this was the way things had been for the last few months. The Serbian doctors just couldn’t keep up with the demand for beds. I’ll admit it was an eye-opener for us. We’d all been so excited to be here and what we found was a shock.’
Maud looked into the distance. ‘Dr Bradshaw was as grim as I’d seen her. She gathered us up and marched us to our billet. She told us to unpack and rest, then said she was going to the hospital that was to be ours and would report back when we met for supper. But we couldn’t rest. Not after we’d seen what we had. To a woman, we insisted that we’d go with her. We made her wait until we’d changed into our uniforms and then we marched out of our accommodation, like so many ducklings following their mother.’ Maud paused again, smiled wanly and took a sip of tea.
‘The surgical hospital was crowded. It was supposed to be for a hundred but there must have been nearly twice that number crammed in. The men were filthy, lying two to a bed. The nurses hadn’t the vaguest idea how to look after them and didn’t seem to have heard of fresh air. The stench was so awful we had to cover our faces with our handkerchiefs. We took off our cloaks, rolled up our sleeves and got stuck in. The first thing we did was break the windows that were jammed fast with paint and age to get fresh air in – you should have heard the grumbling. But the Serbian doctor was pleased to see us. The poor man had been working almost single-handed on the wards while two others tried to keep up with the operations.
‘We worked until we were fit to drop, but the ward was so filthy and the patients so neglected it was difficult to see how we could get everything into shape. We left that night a much more subdued bunch than when we’d arrived. At supper we made a plan. We would move the patients into one half of the hospital while we organised the other. We knew it would be a squash but it was the only way. We would use the Serbian nurses to clean and the orderlies to bathe the men. Although they’re Austrians they’re so sweet. Some were only captured because they refused to fight the Serbs, you know, so they aren’t any trouble. They don’t try to escape or anything.
‘Anyway, for a week we scrubbed and cleaned until we thought our backs would break. But you should see the hospital now. It’s really quite respectable.’
‘I can’t wait.’
‘It’s not just the wounded that are the problem here. There’s typhoid, typhus and cholera. Did you see that building opposite our lodgings?’
When Isabel nodded, she continued, ‘It’s a hospital for recurring fever, although most of the patients also have wounds. It’s run by a Serbian doctor – except he’s not even a doctor, just a fifth-year medical student.’ Maud smiled wistfully. ‘He’s really rather lovely. He comes to have tea with us sometimes so you’ll meet him.’
‘Why don’t we help?’
‘I believe that’s Dr Bradshaw’s plan, now that we have the surgical hospital in order. If you like, I’ll show you the Serbian fever hospital when you’ve finished your tea.’ Maud frowned. ‘Unless you’d like to rest first. You must be exhausted.’
‘I’m far too excited to sleep.’ Isabel set her cup on its saucer and stood up. ‘Let’s go at once.’
The first thing that struck Isabel as they stepped inside the fever hospital was the stench: a cloying mixture of carbolic, unwashed bodies and decaying flesh. It was far worse than anything she’d experienced in the worst slum tenements in Edinburgh.
She followed Maud into the first ward on the right. The smell there was even worse. There were no beds, only straw mattresses jammed too tightly together to walk between them. Some patients were sitting up, smoking and chatting, while others lay quietly except for the occasional moan.
‘There are four wards like this,’ Maud whispered, ‘and the doctor sees to them all. Look, there he is.’ She pointed to the far end of the room where a man with a shock of dark hair was leaning over a patient and listening to his chest. He said something Isabel couldn’t hear and the patient laughed. When another patient called, the doctor turned. Catching sight of Maud, he smiled widely. He stepped over the mattresses, taking care to avoid standing on anyone, and came towards them.
‘It is Sister Tully,’ he said.
> ‘Dr Popović, may I introduce Dr MacKenzie?’
‘Please excuse … I would shake your hand but first I need to wash them.’
‘Dr Popović does almost everything,’ Maud said, who was clearly taken with him. ‘He attends to all the men, gives them medicine, works the X-ray machine, dresses their wounds – he even sees outpatients. Don’t you think he’s clever?’
Isabel was appalled. Only one doctor to do it all! And as for the conditions … The ward needed a good scrub, the men needed baths and the windows should have been opened. ‘What is wrong with these men?’ she asked.
‘Typhoid, mainly, but also cholera and dysentery.’
‘And the treatment?’
Dr Popović shrugged. ‘Not so much. Mostly the patient runs a temperature for a week. If he has no wounds or other conditions, he usually survives that. Then there is a week of normal temperature, followed by a second week of fever. Sometimes there is a third. I have orderlies to help me. They feed the patients, sometimes even wash them, but they are not trained to do anything.’ He smiled apologetically. ‘Forgive, but you ladies must excuse me, I have more patients to attend to.’
‘Will you come to tea with us tomorrow?’ Maud asked.
He dipped his head. ‘If I am able. Yes, I will be pleased to come.’
‘You have to take time off, Doctor,’ Maud said firmly. ‘We shall expect you. At two? I am off between two and four.’
She took Isabel’s arm again. ‘Let’s leave Dr Popović to his patients. We’ll see you tomorrow, Doctor.’
Outside, Isabel took deep lungfuls of air. ‘It’s appalling. How can he hope to treat patients in those conditions?’
‘You think that’s bad?’ Maud said. ‘It’s a lot worse in some of the other hospitals. Now, let me show you ours. I think you’ll be impressed.’
After what she’d seen, the surgical hospital where Isabel would be working was a relief. It was a two-building block with several wards of around thirty patients in each. They were set out in the Nightingale style Isabel was used to, with plenty of space between each bed. The patients were tucked in, the crimson covers stretched so tightly it was impossible to see how anyone could move so much as a toe. The wards were spotlessly clean, with not even a dirty cup to mar them. Cold, fresh air drifted through the open windows. It was difficult to imagine that only a week ago conditions had been similar to those in the fever hospital they’d just left.