by Sheila Riley
‘Here, who was that pretty little blonde I saw you talking to last night?’ Alfie asked and Sam could feel the heat rise in the trench. He turned to his oppo.
‘Don’t you go getting any ideas in that direction, Alfie old son,’ Sam gave a friendly warning. ‘You’re a married man, and she is an ambulance driver. One of the finest and scariest drivers I have ever had the misfortune to travel with.’
‘They’re a good lot those ambulance drivers. Who’d have thought women could drive like that through shell and shot?’ Alfie, too, looked to be enjoying the rare hiatus in the shelling. Burrowing into the ground they had become accustomed to the gaping, interconnecting holes there that saved their lives if they kept their head down. Generally dug six to eight feet down, they were then built up with sandbags stacked at the top by another two or three feet.
‘She’s called Daisy Flynn,’ said Sam, staring into an azure sky watching the birds flying freely overhead. ‘She came over to Canada with me when I was just a kid.’
‘Wadda-ya-mean, just a kid, you’re still a kid,’ Alfie laughed and Sam raised an eyebrow, knowing Alfie was a good five years older and had joined the Medical Corps as soon as he could. ‘You’d better not let your gal back home know you have been fraternising with old flames.’
‘Daisy is not an old flame,’ Sam scoffed, ‘she’s a good friend, and I’m glad we got the chance to catch up on the old days. Here, did you know she’s a singer? A good one too by the sound of it. If you behave yourself, we can go and see her in the mess hall on Saturday night. She had the voice of an angel when she was a young’n’ and used to sing to the other kids who were homesick, to cheer them up on our way to Canada.’
‘I’ll look forward to a good old sing-song, Sammy boy,’ said Alfie. Then, lowering his voice he leaned a little closer to Sam. ‘You wanna know where there’s a good stash of rum?’
‘You’ll get us into trouble, you will,’ Sam said. But the thought of a slug of rum would go down a treat after the week they’d had, the snifter they received this morning didn’t touch the sides, and he would have welcomed another one. The dark, sweet, gooey overproof alcohol would be just the ticket after the battering their platoon had taken. ‘Lead on McDuff, I don’t mind if I do…’
Alfie led the way down the warren of dugouts, past Scottie Road, and down Marsh Lane. Becoming one with the earth was the only way to survive, and their nostalgia for home was evident in the names they gave to their trenches. Hunkering down in the mud, the soldiers carved the familiar on the irregular, turning to the names of local addresses from their pre-war civilian lives. Naming a space made it their place.
‘Our boys have given good old Liverpool names to their trenches,’ said Alfie when they’d first met.
‘All the trenches look alike,’ Sam had complained when, once again he had got lost in the confusing labyrinth cluttered with ammunition boxes, cables, detritus, and all manner of supplies required to shore up the trench walls and fight a war.
‘We give the German trenches in front of us Canadian names before we capture them, so that when we take them, they are already ours.’ Alfie had told Sam.
He had taught him a lot, Sam realised, especially when it came to sniffing out the rum store. There was no getting out of a trench to study a place in the landscape, knowing that to do so would invite a bullet through your helmet or through your vest. Handmade signs guided them to their destination, and Sam was now familiar with the strange names given to their quarters by the wags within. The Lettuce Inn, The Ritz Cracker, The Adelphinium.
‘Be careful when we come up to Whizbang Corner,’ said Alfie when they reached Lovers’ Lane and then continued onto a trench sign that read Hell’s Bells This Way, giving Sam a cautionary instruction to crawl on his stomach, crocodile-style. ‘Down here,’ Alfie said, still leading the way to a cave by way of clay steps going down to an entrance, covered by a heavy blanket impregnated with chemicals to keep out most of the poison gas fumes that were now common on the battlefield.
The dugouts with their rudimentary ventilation system, were always fusty and overcrowded, the walls blackened by tobacco smoke. With humorous, somewhat off-colour, ditties scratched into the walls, a testament to their authors having passed through the area to leave a lasting memorial of sorts. The soldiers’ names, units, and hometowns appeared alongside cartoons and jaunty phrases or risqué images of alluring mademoiselles in flimsy nightwear. Candles flickered a weak light so that men could read and write. Soldiers, sprawled on the packed dirt floor on sandbags and duckboards, scrounged to create chairs or beds.
The backline dugout spaces were social places where the men came to play cards, sing, or tell stories especially after a few shots of illicit rum. Someone was playing a harmonica and a fiddle, and Sam joined in with singing their own earthy version of the latest popular melodies.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ said Alfie as he headed to the latrine, and Sam nodded when another medic brought him a tin cup half filled with dark rum.
‘I’ll say you could do with this after last night,’ said the soldier. ‘Bloody shame about your pal, Alfie.’
Sam’s brows pleated in confusion. ‘Alfie has just gone to the lavatory,’ he commented.
‘I doubt it,’ said the medic. ‘Didn’t you hear? He caught the brunt of a toffee apple when he went over the top last night.’ A toffee-apple was the trench mortar bomb, the Hun’s favourite weapon, Sam knew. ‘They buried him this morning.’
Sam downed the rum in one go and felt the hot trickle slide right down his gullet. He had no time to think straight when another medic came hurtling in. And when he caught sight of Sam he stopped in his tracks.
‘Sam, my friend, did you hear? Scottie Road has just been hit. You are one lucky son-of-a-gun. You’re the only one who got out alive.’ He looked up to the sky and he said, ‘Someone is surely looking over you, pal.’
12
August 1916
‘How are you feeling this morning, my dear?’ Ruby asked, knowing Doctor Bea had given Archie the all-clear to do light duties.
‘That woman has done an excellent job of restoring my sight,’ said Archie, ‘even though the spectacles are taking some getting used to.’
‘You look very distinguished, I think.’ Ruby greeted both nurses who were joining them for breakfast and her bosom swelled with motherly pride, ‘Where do you girls get your abundance of energy from, you were at the hospital so late and yet here you are ready to go and do it all over again.’
‘No rest for the wicked,’ Ellie’s larking was interrupted when Mrs Hughes came into the morning room.
‘My, my,’ said Mrs Hughes who had brought a bundle of letters to the lodge from Ashland Hall, ‘someone is popular.’ She put the letters on the table and Anna’s eyes widened when she saw every one of them was addressed to her and her hand flew to her lips to stem the gasp of excitement.
‘They’re from Ned,’ she cried. ‘And by the look of this lot, he must have written every day.’ She and Ellie had been prevented from going overseas by the number of casualties coming in, the hospitals were bulging at the seams with injured servicemen and she promised Doctor Bea she would wait until the new doctor came to take over.
‘Well, aren’t you going to open them?’ Ruby asked expectantly and Anna felt a small jab of disappointment. These were the letters she had been waiting for. Her impatience had bordered on desperation when she’d heard nothing from Ned for weeks.
‘You want me to open them now?’ Anna said while Ruby, in a state of eager anticipation, was obviously impatient to know how Ned was faring. ‘But I have to go over to the Hall,’ Anna said, feeling torn. ‘Matron Meredith will not allow lateness for any reason short of a sudden death in the family.’ Obviously, she was desperate to know what Ned had to say, but if she was being truly honest, she wanted to read his words alone. ‘We have a large admission of wounded servicemen coming in today and are bound to be busy.’ Her duty was to the men in her care.
‘
Open one at least,’ Ellie said, ‘I will go and get our cloaks,. Taking in Ruby’s look of undisguised disappointment, Ellie was also eager for news.
Since taking part in the Battle of Jutland back in June, Ned had been involved in the largest full-scale clash of naval battleships so far, and everybody was on high alert for news. Serving in the Royal Navy’s Grand Fleet under Admiral Sir John Jellicoe, Ned had not been home for two years and his cheerful good humour was missed by all of them.
‘Perhaps just one and we will save the rest for this evening,’ Anna said, ripping open the envelope with her thumbnail, aware Ruby had not scolded her for omitting to use the bone-handled letter opener… And as she began to read the words, her face grew hotter.
Hello beautiful girl,
Just to let you know I am lying in my hammock dreaming of the day we will be together again. The only thing that keeps me going is the thought we will be back together soon. I really miss you, Anna, do you miss me?
I cannot tell you where we are for obvious reasons, all I can say is that the locals speak very much like your new doctor, I imagine. Anyway, just a short one today as I am about to go on duty.
All my love and counting the days until I see you again.
Your ever-loving, Ned xxx
‘Oh, Aunt Ruby…’ Anna felt a sudden warm rush to her cheeks. ‘He is fine or at least he was when he wrote this.’ She watched Ellie leave the room to fetch their capes and could swear she had a tear in her eye. ‘Do you think he is in Scotland?’ Dressed in her pristine uniform, Anna’s own eyes filled with happy tears that were always so near the surface these days.
‘It sounds very much so,’ Ruby said. She looked thoughtful and Anna wondered if she was thinking of a way to get him home.
‘Scotland is not so far away, is it?’ Anna was so happy she felt she would burst.
‘I wouldn’t like to walk it,’ Ruby said, bringing a bit of sobriety to the waltzing nurse who was holding the letter close to her heart. ‘Have you seen the time?’
‘Oh no, I’ll have to hurry… Ellie!’ she turned and bumped into Ellie who was bringing in their cloaks. ‘Oh, there you are. Did you hear Ned’s news? I’ll tell you on the way over, Matron will have our life if we’re late.’
‘Slow down,’ Ellie smiled, she had heard every word, ‘we’ve got plenty of time, you know Aunt Ruby always has the clocks ten minutes fast.’
‘I put them to the right time when the authorities introduced the extra hour in March, to lengthen British Summer Time,’ Ruby told them, secretly holding in a smile when she saw them scamper to the front door and scurry down the path.
Anna knew she really ought to pull herself together, but these were such emotive times, and she could not imagine what life was like before the war. ‘Even if we had time, I dare not read any more before going on duty.’
‘Knowing Ned’s letters are waiting for you, will spur you on,’ Ellie said, understanding that her best friend would love nothing more than to find a cosy corner and spend the rest of the day reading Ned’s news.
‘I know,’ Anna answered, and for as much as she longed to linger on Ned’s words, she must save that pleasure until later. For now, incoming servicemen depended upon her. ‘Have you heard from Rupert?’ Anna asked, not even a little breathless given the speed they were walking. Ellie had met Rupert at one of Ruby’s fundraising dinners earlier in the year. ‘He’s quite keen by the sound of it.’
‘He loves me deeply. Didn’t I tell you?’ Ellie answered. ‘Although, we haven’t got to the undying love bit yet.’
Anna laughed, knowing Ellie was a popular member of the Corby set. She threw herself wholeheartedly into everything that was going, and Rupert was just one of the many young officers who appreciated her company.
‘Come on Florence Nightingale, let’s hurry,’ Anna beckoned Ellie to shift herself.
Matron Meredith called an emergency meeting in the dining hall, where every member of staff, auxiliaries included, was given instructions as to what they must do in case of an enemy attack and warned there would be severe reprimands for any nurse who was late for duty.
‘From now on, we will have to be even more vigilant,’ Matron told the gathered staff after news of attacks on the eastern side of the country were becoming more frequent. Anna and Ellie also digested the news that some of the VAD nurses who belonged to the Territorials would be leaving Ashland Hall for overseas work. They all knew what that meant, and there was a low buzz of excitement as the nurses who had been attached to Seaforth Barracks were sent for, only to return a while later, proudly waving their marching orders.
‘Oh, you lucky thing,’ Ellie declared as one of the nurses showed her brand-new military uniform. ‘Do you think I could join you, too?’
‘Be careful what you wish for, Harrington,’ Ellie had not heard Matron Meredith’s quiet approach. ‘The fields of war are not like a Saturday night dance, you know.’
‘No, Matron,’ Ellie said, solemnly, aware that the majority of cases being brought to Ashland Hall were here for rest and recuperation before being sent back to the Front. As she watched the straight-backed figure of medical authority continuing along the corridor towards her office, Ellie said: ‘Can’t you just imagine all those poor injured servicemen dependent upon us alone.’ She clasped her hands to her bosom. ‘They would be ever so grateful…’
Anna reminded Ellie that she had promised Rupert she would write and maybe accompany him to a dance when he got leave. If he got leave, she meant.
‘So, I did,’ Ellie looked almost innocent but it was the devilish twinkle in her eye that told Anna she was not a girl who would be tethered by social mores.
Immediately, Anna could see the similarity between Ellie and Ruby, and she had more than a sneaking suspicion both women were carved from the same wood. Not that she would ever repeat her suspicions that Ruby and Ellie were more closely related than was common knowledge. But their resemblance and plain-speaking attitude were too similar to be merely that of aunt and niece, she was sure.
‘Let me get you a glass of water,’ Anna told young Private Daniels who was in the throes of a coughing fit. His face as dark as a plum.
‘I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea, Nurse,’ he said when the coughing subsided and Anna had to smile when his neighbour in the opposite bed said in a jocular tone: ‘Blimey, Nurse, young Sproglet here, was hardly making a sound all night. I think he’s looking for a bit of sympathy.’
‘Well, I would say he deserves a bit of sympathy. Private Daniels has been through a bit of a rough time,’ Anna answered, knowing the young soldier had been rescued from a place called No-Man’s-Land on the Western Front and sent back with what was known as a Blighty wound. He had had all the toes on his right foot taken off yesterday when gangrene set in.
‘You’re right, Nurse, getting caught in that rumpus must have been a bit of a shock to his system.’
‘It was more than a rumpus,’ said the young soldier irritably, ‘I’m here for a bit more than an ingrowing toenail, you know.’
‘Me too, Mucker,’ said the older soldier, ‘I ’ad me bleedin’ leg shot off, excuse me French, Nurse.’
‘Now, now, boys,’ Anna said as she bustled back and forth with cups of tea, ‘play nicely.’
‘You tell ’em, nurse,’ said Taffy through the bandages that covered his whole head and face. A Welsh miner, he had helped dig the underground tunnels and lay explosives under the German trenches ready for the Big Push back in July and was lucky to be alive when the sticks of gelignite he had been using blew up in his face. ‘I’ll have you know, boyo, I’ve had two fingers amputated. They were my best two an’ all. The ones I used to salute the generals who never came near the trenches.’
The ribbing banter continued, and Anna knew they did it without malice, each one had horrific injuries but made light of them whenever possible.
‘That’ll teach you to stop biting your fingernails,’ said mild-mannered Sproglet, so-called because at sixteen he was the young
est on the ward, and he gave a weary smile when Taffy threw his head back and filled the room with his loud booming laugh.
‘Touché, Sproglet,’ said Taffy. ‘Some of those officers haven’t got a clue.’
‘Now, now, Taffy,’ said Anna, ‘don’t let Matron Meredith hear you talking like that. Her fiancé is an officer.’
‘They’re not all bad, Nurse,’ Taffy said by way of an apology.
‘Matron says you might be getting your moving orders sometime this week,’ said Anna and saw Taffy’s shoulders droop as his mood changed from jovial to solemn in the blink of an eye, and she had an inkling that he had no wish to be sent anywhere, least of all home.
‘I can see you might have a problem holding a rifle,’ said the young soldier, ‘so I imagine they will send you back to the valleys, to marry your sweetheart.’
As Anna put a cup of tea and a freshly made scone on his locker, Taffy returned to his usual cheery self.
‘Don’t be telling them that, Sproglet,’ Taffy called to the lad in the next bed, ‘the news will break this poor nurse’s heart. The whole staff will be bereft when I’m discharged.’
‘We won’t miss your cheek, that’s for sure,’ said Doctor Bea who was suturing the hand of another soldier.
‘You know as well as I do, Doc,’ he said, ‘they won’t have anything to look forward to when my handsome physog is no longer here for them to admire and dream about each night.’
‘How did you guess?’ Anna laughed. ‘How will we manage without you, Taff?’ She tried to keep his spirits up, knowing he had lost more than his good looks and his fingers when his sweetheart’s letters stopped coming.
‘Any chance of a nice bit of bacon and egg for breakfast?’ A voice called from the other end of the ward that had once been the Ashland Hall ballroom.
‘You will get porridge, and like it,’ replied Doctor Bea, opening the French windows as a VAD nurse tidied away the galvanised dishes and removed them to the sluice room that was once the flower room across the hall.