The Poppy Field

by Deborah Carr

  Mary didn’t reply immediately. She drank the remainder of her tea. “I can’t help wondering at the fruitlessness of it all.”

  “That’s enough of that,” Matron snapped from behind them making them both jump and Mary spill her tea. “No feeble talk from my nurses,” she said. “I want you back at your ward now. The convoy will be here shortly.”

  They stood up and cleared their plates and cups.

  Alice waited for Matron to leave the room before exhaling. “I hate being caught out like that,” she said, embarrassed.

  “Don’t you think she feels the same as us sometimes?”

  Alice looked at Mary and shrugged. “I imagine so, but the difference between her and us is that she’d never allow her feelings to show.”

  And neither should she, Alice decided. She was here to do a job and bleating about it wasn’t going to help anyone. She needed to buck up her ideas.

  Reaching the other nurses and orderlies waiting on the wooden walkway, Alice heard the bugle announcing the arrival of the ambulances. First Matron stepped forward, followed by two nurses and two orderlies. Once they had been told which ward in which to take the initial casualty, Matron checked the next man, and so on, until it was Alice’s turn.

  “Ward Four,” she said. Alice looked down at the conscious man who winced in pain as the orderlies lifted his stretcher from the back of the ambulance. She accompanied him across the wooden boards to the ward.

  “We’re in here,” she said, aware she was stating the obvious, but not sure what else to say until she had discovered what his injuries were exactly.

  Indicating the vacant bed next to Captain Woodhall, Alice checked the tag on the man’s jacket. “Corporal William Healy?”

  “Yes, Nurse, that’s me,” he said, in a gentle southern Irish accent. He gazed around him.

  He appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He was pale, thin, and, like most of the men who came here after spending months in the discomfort of the trenches, utterly exhausted.

  “You have a gunshot wound to the right foot, I see,” she said, waiting while the orderlies lifted him carefully from the stretcher onto the bed.

  “Yes, and stings something dreadful, it does.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” She unbuttoned his dust encased jacket. “Let me help you off with this filthy uniform,” she said. “Then I can wash you and help you change into your pyjamas. You’ll be more comfortable then.”

  “Thanks, nurse,” he said, gritting his teeth as she slowly worked his trousers down past his bandaged foot. He looked to his right and nodded at the captain in the next bed.

  “Welcome to The Haven,” the captain said, smiling up at Alice. “Most of our nurses here are angels.” He lowered his voice. “Matron can be a bit of a tyrant, but I’ve noticed that her heart is in the right place.”

  Alice was relieved to see the captain had improved dramatically since she’d last seen him. She went to speak to him, but two more injured soldiers were carried in to the large tent, diverting her attention. One was writhing in pain and Alice noticed Mary assisting a sister as she attempted to calm him. The two men next to her stopped talking, as both stared anxiously at the weeping casualty.

  Alice emptied the corporal’s pockets and placed a photo, wallet and letters onto the small chair by his bed that he’d be sharing with Captain Woodhall. She dropped the trousers and jacket in a heap that a probationer would take away with a mound of other dirty uniforms.

  “Poor sod,” the corporal said. “He was in my battalion. I wondered what had happened to him.”

  “He’s here now,” Alice said, trying to sooth their concerns. “We’ll ask Sister to give him something for his pain shortly.”

  “There’s far worse than that arriving,” Captain Woodhall said quietly.

  “Thank you, Captain,” she shook her head. “I need to clean Corporal Healy. You can impart your survival tips afterwards.”

  Alice washed and partially changed the corporal into pyjamas.

  “I’m going to have to change this dressing,” she explained, concerned that the heat in his damaged foot indicated an infection might have set in to the gunshot wound. “If you lie back,” she said taking him gently by the shoulders and pushing against the freshly plumped pillow. “Then I can have a proper look.”

  Taking a pair of large tweezers, Alice held her breath, nervous at what she would find. She gently pulled back the filthy dressing, relieved it didn’t stick to the wound. Dropping the once white gauze into a metal bowl, she began meticulously cleaning the area with hydrogen peroxide.

  “Hell, that stings,” Corporal Healy grimaced, his eyes watering from the pain.

  “I know, I’m sorry,” she said hating having to inflict more pain on him. “I’m afraid it’s necessary.”

  “How is it looking Nurse?” he asked, moments later.

  She suspected the pain of his wound must be intense. She moved his foot to the right, hearing him wince. “Sorry, Corporal. I think the bullet exited through your foot cleanly.”

  “Don’t you worry Nurse,” he said. “You do what you must.”

  Alice fixed a smile on her face. She was determined not to show how saddened she was that her suspicions were right. Infection had begun to swell the damaged area on that side. “I’m going to ask Doctor Sullivan to have a look at this,” she said, trying to instil positivity in him. “We need to ensure no fragments of bone are left in there that might hinder healing.”

  Satisfied she had done all she could for now, Alice carefully placed clean gauze on his foot and finished dressing him.

  “There you go,” she said returning his smile. “Try to rest. You must be exhausted after what you’ve been through.” Alice smoothed down her skirt. “I’ll leave you now. Tea should be here shortly.”

  “Thanks, Nurse—”

  “She’s Nurse Le Breton,” Captain Woodhall said, giving Alice a shy smile.

  “I’ll leave you two to become acquainted,” she said, hoping her face wasn’t as red as she suspected it might be. Alice wished the rules about becoming too close to any of the patients wasn’t so absolute. She knew the captain would be discharged at some point, but she daren’t risk ruining any chance she might have of training to become a fully qualified nurse after this war ended.

  She helped Mary wash and change her patient who had calmed down a little after receiving a morphine injection. These new arrivals always unsettled the patients, thought Alice. It was upsetting to witness those that had found comfort in the security of the hospital, to be reminded of what they would probably return to.

  She glanced over at one patient, relieved to see one of the sisters soothing him. The recent amputation of his lower leg meant he had to be kept as still as possible. The last thing they needed was for him to haemorrhage. Alice doubted most of these men would ever come to terms with what they had experienced.

  “Were you at Guillemont?” she heard the captain quietly ask Corporal Healy. “I heard it was particularly bad there.”

  “Yes,” he hesitated. “It was a nightmare. We’ve been there since the third of September. That’s where I got this hole in my foot. Some bloody Hun caught me in the village, just as I was running for cover behind a wall.”

  The captain frowned. “Many men down?”

  The corporal shook his head and cleared his throat, his voice cracking as he answered. “Far too many. It was a bloodbath. Men were being mown down in their droves. I wonder if, in a hundred years, anyone will remember all the Irish blokes who lost their lives there this week?”

  “I think about that often,” the captain admitted. “All of us cannon fodder. I can’t help thinking about all the families that will never be. Will future generations commemorate what we’ve done, or do their best to forget us?”

  Alice wondered the same thing. She had never heard the captain speaking so frankly before, but he voiced what most of them must be thinking. It was only September and the war had been dragging on for over two years now. Unable to bear see
ing the endless columns of names of the missing and fallen, Alice had stopped reading the papers months ago.

  “How about you?” the corporal asked Captain Woodhall. “What brought you to this place?”

  He touched the bandage on his head. “Thankfully, this is more of a graze than anything,” he said. “Could have been far worse.” They both looked over at two men on the other side of the ward, both with thick dressings covering one side of their faces and heads. “Also, a bullet sliced through my side, near my right hip.”

  “I’m hoping this is a Blighty one,” Corporal Healy whispered. “My wife’s struggling to cope at home with the kids.”

  “How many have you got?”

  “Six. Five boys and a little girl,” he smiled, groaning as he reached to lift up a photo from his small selection of personal items. “My daughter, Kathleen’s only nineteen-months old.”

  Hearing the corporal talk about his children chilled Alice. What if he was to lose his leg to infection? She had heard about it happening too many times to count, men with families losing the ability to obtain gainful employment after losing a limb. Her concern for how these injured men and their families would survive after the war ended, kept her awake at night.

  She hoped the corporal wouldn’t be one of them, not with such a large family relying on his earnings. She’d speak to the surgeon as soon as she finished helping Mary. Sister Brown would be furious if she discovered Alice had over-stepped her authority, but she couldn’t take a chance that his infection might be missed. If he needed surgery as soon as possible, and she was almost certain he did, she needed to speak up. She had seen how rapidly and uncontrollably infection could spread through these weakened men’s systems once it took hold.

  “You got any kids?” She heard the corporal ask and glanced over at the two men again.

  Captain Woodhall shook his head. “No. No kids.”

  “Married?”

  There was a hesitation before Alice heard him answer, “No. No wife, either.”

  Alice looked at him then and their eyes met for a few seconds, before he turned away to answer another of the corporal’s questions. Something had happened to him, she could tell. But what? Had his fiancée called off their engagement, like she had done?

  Spotting Matron standing in the entrance, Alice finished redressing a wound on another patient when a particularly loud bombardment exploded nearby. Alice’s heart pounded heavily and a few of the newer patients stared at her, their eyes wide with concern.

  “It probably sounds closer because of the wind direction,” she said, recalling how this explanation had calmed her on her arrival. “We’re perfectly safe here.”

  She was interrupted by shouting outside the ward. Alice walked as quickly as she could to find out the cause of the commotion. Two of the orderlies were restraining a young patient in the middle of a grand mal episode on the wooden walkway. Alice returned to the ward, grabbed a blanket and pillow and went back to help. She carefully raised the patient’s head and placed the pillow underneath. She didn’t want him banging his head, causing himself even more damage. His contorted body finally relaxed, but the man seemed barely conscious. She covered him with a blanket to keep him warm and glanced at the closest orderly.

  “We need a stretcher. We must take this man back to his bed.”

  She worried how the men suffering from shell shock should be nursed. Morphine and Asprin made no difference to their wellbeing when the pain was in their minds. She wished there was more they could do to aid this man and others like him. More and more seemed to be arriving at the station recently. She accompanied the soldier back to his ward and settled him in his bed.

  “I’m s—sorry, nurse,” he said, as Alice straightened his pillow and went to cover his chest with his blanket.

  “Nothing to be sorry for,” she said, giving him a gentle smile. She hoped he wasn’t one of those who would have to endure the trauma of almost constant fits. “You try to sleep, if you can.”

  Those men suffered terribly when explosions shook the earth. How could they recuperate properly with this ever-present reminder? she wondered. She wished there was more she could do to help them cope.

  “You all right, Nurse Le Breton?” The deep voice immediately alerted her to the doctor’s presence. Mortified to have been caught lost in thought at such a busy time, Alice’s face reddened as he walked beside her.

  “Yes, I’m fine thank you, Doctor Sullivan,” she said. “Please can I ask you to check one of the patients for me? It’s a Corporal Healy. I think the gunshot wound in his right foot has started to become infected. I’m not sure, but I suspect he might need surgery to ensure it’s properly cleaned out.”

  “Do you indeed?”

  Alice cringed. She hadn’t meant to presume to tell the doctor how to do his job. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to overstep my position.”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m comforted by your dedication, nurse. Just don’t let Matron know you’ve spoken to me about this. She likes you to go via her, or at least one of the sisters with anything.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll look at him as soon as this has been done.”

  Her step faltered. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?” Had she missed something?

  He lowered his voice leant his head closer to hers. “I need you to accompany me,” he said striding ahead of her, before she had time to question him.

  Alice ran after him, trying to keep up and not daring to ask what he wanted her for.

  “In here,” he said, arriving at Matron’s office and opening the door for her.

  What had she done wrong? Was he going to report her for speaking out to him, after all? Her heart pounded painfully. Alice tried to think of anything she might have done that she could be reprimanded about.

  The doctor waited by the open door. “In you go, quickly now,” he said waiting for her to enter Matron’s sparsely decorated office.

  “Ahh, Nurse Le Breton,” Matron said, a surprised look on her face when she saw that she was accompanied by the doctor. She went to stand, but he waved for her to remain seated. “I was going to send someone to fetch you.”

  “I found her on my way here,” Doctor Sullivan said, without looking at Alice.

  She glanced from one to the other, still unable to work out why she was standing in Matron’s office waiting for them to address her.

  “Nurse Le Breton,” Matron said, finally. “Doctor Sullivan will be attempting a new procedure and has requested that you assist him.”

  Confused, Alice nodded. Usually, one or the other told her to assist, and that was it. Why the severity of their meeting now? She waited for one of them to continue.

  Matron stared at Alice. “The doctor needs someone who’ll keep their head. This is a dangerous operation, and hasn’t been attempted before, so the outcome is unknown.”

  Alice was sure that most of the operations he carried out were dangerous, but simply nodded.

  “I need someone who won’t faint on me,” Doctor Sullivan said. “I know that most of the nurses can be relied upon to act in the most professional of ways, but this procedure is a little more delicate than the ones I’m used to carrying out.”

  Intrigued now, Alice asked, “May I ask what it is?”

  He glanced at Matron, then back at Alice. “This time it’s being performed on one of your colleagues.”

  Alice’s mouth fell open. She had thought the bombardment was a couple of miles away. Had one of the nurses been hurt? “I don’t understand.”

  Matron leaned forward. She looked over at the closed door before focusing her attention back to Alice. “The silly girl has found herself in a delicate situation,” she said taking a deep breath before continuing. “A short while ago she was discovered in one of the residential tents, having attempted a termination.” She almost mouthed the last three words. “I need you to assist the doctor. Do you have any religious beliefs that will hinder your part in the operation?”

  Alice co
uldn’t believe what she was hearing. One of her colleagues was with child? “No.”

  “Good,” Dr Sullivan said, his usually severe tone gentle. “Naturally, this must remain between the three of us, and the nurse who discovered her. It is a reportable offence to terminate a pregnancy.” He sighed. “An illegal offence, but I think the girl has suffered enough, don’t you?” He waited for Alice to reply.

  She nodded. “Yes, I imagine she has.” She was seeing a different side to both matron and the doctor and it was one that she admired. She was reassured by the knowledge that the woman in charge of them had their best interests at heart. “I understand,” she said, not sure if the doctor could go higher in her estimation than he was right now.

  “There’s no time to lose,” he said. “We’ll leave here and go straight to the theatre. The nurse who found her is with her now.”

  Alice followed him to the door.

  “Thank you, Nurse Le Breton,” Matron said. “I’ll ensure your duties are covered while you’re in theatre.”

  Alice’s mind raced as she followed the doctor. Who in their right mind would attempt such a dangerous thing? Becoming pregnant was shocking enough, but to be caught trying to terminate it, well, it was too much for her to contemplate.

  They arrived at the theatre and the doctor held back the canvas flap for her to enter. Alice was stunned to see Mary changing the padding being used to capture some of the woman’s blood.

  “It won’t stop, sir,” Mary said, her face ashen. “I don’t know what else to do.”

  Alice stared at the unconscious patient. She could only imagine how desperate the young nurse must have been to attempt such a terrifying procedure on herself. “She must have been frightened out of her wits,” she said, shocked by Mary and Doctor Sullivan’s glances when she realised she’d said the words out loud.

  “We’ll take over now, Nurse Jones,” the doctor said. “Take a break, but remember, this must remain between us, and Matron.”

  “Yes, I understand,” Mary said, passing Alice.