Two Women Went to War

by L E Pembroke

  No, I didn’t know what they said about champagne and oysters, but I was eager to try champagne for the first time. Just one glass.

  Later, he suggested we try the Escalope de Veau. I agreed of course, although I wasn’t too sure what it was. I could hardly believe how much my life had so unexpectedly changed and my intense happiness and the excitement and joy of being with someone I loved. I did love him; I was certain of that, had fallen in love with him on that day seven months before when we met at the Sydney Show. It had happened suddenly the way it sometimes did between couples who were destined to spend the rest of their lives together, and I was certain by then that we were certainly destined to spend the rest of our lives together.

  *

  We were finishing our meal with ice cream and fruit (in the menu it was called ‘Coupe Glacée’) when Gordon suggested we take a stroll along the Promenade. Apparently it was only open to hotel guests and was the flat roof of the hotel from which one could see most of the harbour.

  It was romantic up there that balmy summer night. Fortunately, none of the other guests were taking advantage of the marvellous view, the bewitching ambience of the quiet city below us and the velvet sky above. I supposed the other guests would be married couples desperately clinging to one another before the war tore them apart, perhaps forever. They would already be in bed making love, as was their right. My thoughts induced a powerful feeling of desire that made me feel weak in the legs; a feeling similar to the one I’d had on the night Gordon brought me back from the Show.

  The thought of doors to hotel bedrooms locked against outsiders while couples, their naked bodies wrapped around each other, revelled in their hunger for each other aroused me even more strongly. His arms were around me, holding me tightly, and he was murmuring how marvellous it was up there on the roof top. He said that this was what he would remember when he was at the Front – just him and me together alone and in love. ‘My darling, I now know I am desperately in love with you, and I’ll never be really happy until you are my wife. Marry me, Genevieve darling, and make me the luckiest man in the world.’

  He turned my body so that I faced him and bent his head to kiss me, those deep, hungry kisses I’d dreamt of for so long. I didn’t want him to stop ever. He pulled away. He looked into my eyes. Again he said, ‘Marry me, Genevieve.’

  Like an idiot, I said simply, ‘Oh yes, Gordon darling, of course I will.’ I thought I would faint with desire for him.

  He kissed my eyelids, my neck and the cleft between my breasts. He glanced at his watch. And suggested it was time we turned in; we needed a decent night’s sleep because we had so much to think about, so many plans to make before he shipped out. Hand in hand, he led me to my room on the uppermost floor. We stood at the door.

  I was wide awake, knew I wouldn’t sleep. I was full of questions. When did he think we would marry? Where would we marry? My mind was in turmoil. I was thinking and planning. It would have to be a small, secret ceremony. Nurses were not permitted to marry while they were in training.

  He said he couldn’t be certain and that the army made the rules. He would see the padre on Monday. Then there was a lot of other business to see to: changed pay arrangements, all my details supplied in case they have to contact me as his next of kin.

  I didn’t want to hear about awful things like next of kin and said so. I remember clearly every one of his words. ‘Have to be practical, Genevieve. What if you have our baby to care for? Have to make sure he’s financially secure, don’t we?’ He explained that it was a common enough situation; lots of fellows get married immediately before going overseas. ‘We could be married next week and we’ll have a few days as a married couple before I have to go. One thing I can promise you, darling, is that very soon you’ll be Mrs Gordon McCann.’

  Then he said how about if he came into my room for a few minutes to talk about our future together and make the most of every minute before he had to leave me. What a sensible suggestion. His hands were around my waist. He pulled me onto the bed. ‘Mrs McCann, I can hardly believe you’ve accepted me. I was always the bloke who was never going to marry. “Love them and leave them McCann” they called me, but I’ll never leave you, Genevieve.’

  My arms clasped him tightly. He lifted my legs onto the bed, pulled off my shoes. He lifted my skirt. He placed his hand between my thighs.

  *

  Stop worrying,’ I repeated to myself again and again. This is the sort of thing that must happen all the time, soldiers embarking for service overseas under the utmost secrecy. How could it be any different? Couldn’t risk the enemy knowing about troop movements with German submarines lying in wait for ships crowded with men leaving their home ports for unspecified destinations. He must have gone only a day or two after our weekend. And, of course he’d be sworn to secrecy.

  It might be weeks before I heard from him. No point complaining. That’s the way life was for wives and girlfriends left at home. I was confident he would write as soon as they reached their destination; I’d never been more certain of anything. It was just a matter of waiting patiently. He’d been torn away from me without the opportunity of even giving me his address. Never mind. Each day I would write a page or two, and when he sent me his address, I would send him all my loving messages. I didn’t expect to hear until, at the earliest, February.

  CHAPTER 6

  I was on duty over Christmas and in January 1915 went home for my annual leave. I had been wondering about the wisdom of telling my mother that I was engaged to be married. Best to be honest. Anyway, she would guess something was in the wind. Mothers can always tell. Of course, it wouldn’t be wise to mention my fiancé’s name, knowing what she thought about the McCann family, and especially Gordon.

  On a typical hot, dry January day, Tom drove the sulky into town to pick me up at the railway station. The fiery, yellow sun was already high in the sky; heat haze rippled across the dirt road, and by its side desiccated grasses stood still and brittle.

  I was determined to be optimistic about my future. I said how lovely it was to be home again and confided in Tom that I once thought city life appealed, but now couldn’t wait to get back to the country.

  ‘Is that so?’ he said in his laconic way. ‘I, on the other hand, am sick to death of country life. I want to enlist in the army. Trouble is, every time the subject comes up, Mum nearly throws a fit. Says she needs me here to run the property.’

  At home, the three of us sat down to have a cup of tea. As soon as Tom left to get on with his work, I told Mum I was in love with a soldier who had been sent overseas, and we planned to marry as soon as he returned.

  She was horrified. ‘What do you know about love, Genevieve? To my knowledge, you’ve never been out with a young man. Now, it seems, you’ve met a soldier who’s probably put you in the family way and left you carrying the baby. You’ll never see him again.’

  ‘No, Mum, you’re wrong. He loves me deeply and I am not carrying his baby.’

  ‘Who is this man, Genevieve?’

  I felt I couldn’t bear any further shocked outbursts. ‘I don’t want to say at the moment, Mother. I am twenty-two and not a fool. He loves me, believe it or not, and I know I love him.’

  ‘You know nothing about love. You are your father all over again, Genevieve. I will not have you running off with some stranger who hasn’t even had the courtesy to ask my permission to court you.’

  Stupid me, I burst out, ‘He’s not a stranger. It’s Gordon McCann.’

  ‘What!’ She jumped to her feet. ‘Gordon McCann, that womaniser with the worst reputation in the whole of western New South Wales! Are you mad? You’ll marry Gordon McCann over my dead body.’

  ‘We will be married when he returns from the war.’

  Those were the words that ended our relationship. My mother said that if I persisted in this flagrant disobedience, I was no longer welcome at Bellara, and she would no longer consider me her daughter. She went on that this was rather a high price to pay for what
would doubtless turn out to be a short-lived affair with a worthless individual.

  Anger mixed with anguish. ‘Perhaps I should return to Sydney on the next train.’

  ‘I believe that would be best.’

  *

  Six weeks after the night at the Metropole and three weeks after that extremely stressful meeting with my mother, I knew she had guessed correctly. I was shocked. There was always a risk of pregnancy, but only that one night – what unbelievable awful luck. I’d have to write to him immediately. But there was a problem because his first letter containing his address still hadn’t arrived.

  With some urgency, I began planning my future. I would have to stay at the hospital for as long as possible, then go to one of those homes where unmarried girls stay until their babies are delivered. There was no question about me not keeping the baby. I would never give it up for adoption and was certain Gordon would agree with me.

  First, buy a ring, then, after the birth, get a live-in job caring for some elderly lady. I’d say my husband was overseas fighting. Many families would welcome me into their home for the duration of the war. People pulled together in time of war. The wife and child of a serviceman would be cared for while the husband risked his life to save his fellow countrymen.

  CHAPTER 7

  I graduated in mid-February; but there was little thrill of achievement after my four hard years of training. My brother was my only guest for the ceremony. I considered briefly sharing my secret with him but, on second thoughts, realised that was a silly idea. Tom would be horrified and probably tell our mother. Mum might eventually forgive me for falling in love with Gordon McCann, but a bastard child – never.

  I would have loved a confidante, but my particular friends at the hospital would be extremely judgmental on hearing of my moral turpitude – as they would see it. Forbidden to return home after graduation, I had no alternative but to sign on as a hospital staff nurse for the following three or four months.

  *

  Gordon’s younger brother Douglas had also enlisted in the army. In one of Rose’s frequent letters she told me he had joined the Mounted Rifles and that he was expecting to leave Australia soon. Everybody knew that Douglas had for years had a passion for Rose Walsh and that she had little interest in him. So it was a surprise to all of us that when Douglas proposed to her on his pre-embarkation leave, Rose accepted. That was in February 1915.

  When Rose wrote to tell me and ask me to be her bridesmaid, she said Douglas was astonished when she accepted him. ‘And even more astonished when I said I wanted to be married as soon as possible before he left for overseas.’

  Tom acted as Douglas’s best man at the February wedding. I wasn’t able to get away from the hospital and anyway, didn’t fancy returning to my home town in the circumstances. The couple planned to have a week’s honeymoon in Sydney immediately before Douglas embarked for overseas. Rose suggested we meet for lunch after his departure.

  I giggled on receiving Rose’s letter. What a surprise it would be for her to learn that I also would be marrying a McCann boy and we would end up being sisters-in-law. How would it all work out? Who would run the property? It certainly wasn’t big enough to support two couples. Time enough to worry about those details. For now, I busied myself making arrangements to have lunch with Rose after Doug’s departure. And what a relief it would be to reveal my secret to Rose.

  We met in the city and planned to spend the remainder of the day together. We decided to take a ferry trip after lunch so that we could have a long talk. I wanted to know everything about the wedding, then I planned to reveal my own news. At last I would be able to share my secret, and who more suitable to share it with than my closest school friend?

  I was so happy to see Rose again and pleased that, after all these dull years since she left school, she was now happily married to Douglas. We greeted one another enthusiastically and soon began our celebration lunch.

  ‘Now, tell me everything about the wedding, Rose. What did you wear? I hope my brother’s speech was adequate. Who did the catering? Tell me everything.’

  She did. The reception was held in the church hall for about thirty people (friends from school and one or two farmer friends of Douglas). ‘Mr McCann was there. Poor man, he’s a widower …’

  ‘Yes, and now both his sons are overseas in the army.’

  ‘How did you know that, Genevieve?’

  ‘You’d be surprised, Rose.’ It was difficult to keep my secret, but there was plenty of time, and I was certain of Rose’s delighted response.

  ‘It’s really amazing how quickly it all happened. What a dark horse you are, Rose. Of course everybody in town knew Douglas was keen on you. But I had no idea you wanted to marry him, especially in such a rush.’

  She spoke belligerently, ‘Douglas is a decent man and I’ll be a good wife to him, no matter what everyone says.’

  ‘What are you saying, Rose? What are those old town gossips saying now?’

  Rose prevaricated. She began talking about the gossip that had gone on about her mother and my father, so she guessed they were talking about her and her sudden marriage to Doug. Rose’s normally cheerful face became sober. She blushed, hesitated, seemed to be having second thoughts, then the words came tumbling out. Will I ever forget them?

  ‘There was a time when I dreamed of marrying Douglas’s brother, and I would have done so if only he had asked. But Gordon’s not the marrying type. He’s no good; you can’t believe a word he says. He is totally different from Douglas.’

  Startled by Rose’s words and angry at the way she had spoken about her brother-in-law (the father of my child), I demanded to know what on earth she was talking about. Rose sniffed. She searched in her handbag for a handkerchief and burst into a flood of tears. She wailed. ‘I have to tell someone or I’ll die, I feel so dreadfully guilty. You see, Genevieve, I am pregnant and that’s why I agreed to marry Douglas and why we had to be married as soon as possible.’

  ‘But, that’s all right. Lots of people do that before they marry.’

  She burst out, ‘It’s not Douglas’s child; it’s Gordon’s baby.’

  I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. Once she began, her words tumbled out like water from a hose. Stunned, I listened.

  ‘Gordon came home in December, just to say goodbye, and my mother was away in Bathurst visiting her sister. Gordon grabbed the opportunity. He said he was desperately in love with me, promised to marry me after the war and said he’d take care that I didn’t get pregnant.’ Rose blew her nose and wiped away her tears. She caught her breath, calmed down a little and said she thought now she had always known in her heart of hearts he didn’t mean it. She just couldn’t help herself.

  ‘You know, I’ve always been mad about Gordon. I’ve mentioned him often enough, and he knew too. He knew he was on to a good thing with me.’ She sobbed. ‘When I discovered it, I didn’t know which way to turn. And then Douglas came home on leave and proposed. It seemed like a gift from heaven. Nobody will ever know the difference; I’ll just say the baby came early.’

  Rigid with shock, I was speechless. At first I refused to believe what Rose had said. Her story was simply not credible. Not my Gordon; he would never have done or said those things to Rose. Gordon loves me. He had loved me ever since we met. No one, not anyone, would behave like that. Why, if he hadn’t been sent away so suddenly we would already be married.

  Silently, we faced one another. ‘Are you telling me, Rose, that you had an affair with Gordon just a few days before he left Australia?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Weren’t you listening? Why else would I have rushed into marriage with Douglas? You are the only person who knows, Genevieve. What on earth will I do if Douglas ever finds out?’

  Enraged, her voice raised for everybody to hear, she said that Gordon didn’t care about anyone except himself. He was a liar, a man who would say anything to get into bed with any woman. ‘Why are you staring at me like that, Genevieve? Stop it. I’m not really
a bad girl, you know that. It’s just that Gordon took advantage of me, and I was stupid and weak. You couldn’t believe how convincing he was.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I could.’ The bitter words just slipped out of my mouth. Of course Rose was telling me the truth, and Gordon had never stopped lying to me. I stopped listening. How was this going to affect my own life? Nobody must ever find out about my situation. Where can I go? What will I do? It was almost impossible to think logically with Rose sniffing, blowing her nose and dabbing tears from her eyes.

  I would have to have the baby in great secret – if I had it at all. Now, it was ‘the’ baby, not ‘our’ baby. It was the end product of my weakness and his uncontrollable lust. I wanted nothing to do with it. It would have to be adopted. So much to worry about and no one with whom I could confide.

  I couldn’t stay at the restaurant another minute. It was impossible to behave normally. I simply had to leave, get back to the Nurses’ Home before Rose guessed something was wrong. How I managed to speak at all is beyond me.

  ‘That’s the most disgusting story. That lecherous Gordon must have known Douglas loved you. Everybody else in town knew. I won’t ever tell a soul, Rose. Douglas will never hear about this from me. I just hope that Gordon keeps his rotten mouth shut.’ I stood up. ‘Sorry Rose, I’m not feeling too good; don’t think I can eat a thing. Do you mind if we call it a day? Must be coming down with some sort of infection; better get to bed. Write to me, won’t you?’ Stilted, unnatural language – I had to get away.

  *

  So began the worst few months of my life. They say a problem shared is a problem halved, but I dared not share my secret with anybody – the worry, the humiliation, the bitterness, the loss of self-esteem. What would I do now? Everything my mother had predicted had come to pass.

  Night after night, I lay in my bed tossing and turning while trying to come to a decision. There were several options for an unmarried woman. Try to induce an abortion by taking castor oil, cascara or gin and a steaming hot bath. Leave the hospital as I’d originally planned but instead of keeping the baby, go for adoption. I didn’t even want to see it. I considered the third option only briefly. Some desperate girls risked their lives going to an abortionist to dislodge the foetus. I had heard ghastly stories about a woman who lived near the hospital in a mean little house. By all accounts she was a grubby old witch who ordered her clients to lie on a table in her dark, small, second bedroom. Then, without washing her hands or her scissors, she pushed the blades into the tightly tensed bodies and hacked away at the uterus and all it contained. No, I couldn’t ever do that.