Vintage Love

by Clarissa Ross

  After he left she kept busy answering some correspondence. All the while she worried about what might be occurring at the meeting between Colin and Colonel Sanger. She pictured all kinds of grim developments. Perhaps the vindictive Sanger had a plan to transfer Colin to other duties. She prayed this wouldn’t happen.

  An hour passed before her handsome lover returned. He came into her office with a strange look on his bronzed face. “Well, here I am,” he said.

  She rose and went to him. “What happened?”

  “Sanger didn’t even mention you.”

  “I can’t believe it!”

  “Not a word,” Colin said. “It was very odd. He acted as though I’d never introduced you to him last night.”

  “What did he talk about?”

  “Almost everything but the ball.”

  She frowned. “I don’t like it. I’d rather he’d complained. I have an idea he isn’t finished with us yet.”

  “He’s complaining about our method of listing stores,” the young Captain said. “I pointed out it’s too late to change now.”

  “And?”

  “He kept insisting. I finally told him I’d have to refer it to Miss Nightingale.”

  “It’s strictly my department,” Joy said. “And I’m sure Colonel Sanger knows that.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes. No need to bother Miss Nightingale, she’d only refer you back to me.”

  Colin said, “You know you’re right. He’s probably doing this deliberately.”

  She nodded. “Part of his plan to harrass me,” she said. “I wonder what he’ll come up with next?”

  CHAPTER 11

  Joy was busy at her desk the next morning when Captain Colin Hill suddenly appeared. She could tell at once that he was upset about something. As soon as possible she dismissed the nurse who had been writing down some instructions, so that she might speak with the young officer she loved alone.

  Colin’s handsome face was solemn. “I’m afraid you were right when you said an immediate wedding was out of the question.”

  She stared up at a small shadow crossing his face. “What has happened?”

  “I’ve had special orders for the transport of some forty nurses and myself.”

  Her eyes widened. “Then that means?”

  “There’s a ship waiting for our party.”

  “When?”

  “I shouldn’t discuss this before I’ve spoken to Miss Nightingale,” he said. “But you’ll know soon enough. We are scheduled to sail for the Crimea at dawn tomorrow.”

  “Colin!” she spoke his name with emotion.

  He took her in his arms with a sad smile. “So you see how well you predicted things. Our marriage will have to wait.”

  “It makes no difference,” she said gently. “We have our love and each other.”

  “I would have wished it otherwise,” Colin said. “But at least we’ll be together.” And he pressed his lips to hers for a moment which would certainly have caused a scandal had anyone happened to enter the office.

  In the weeks and months which followed, Joy was to often think of that night she and Colin had shared at Berkeley Square. As it turned out, it was to be one of their few intimate times for a painfully long while. After frantic hours of preparation, the ship bearing Florence Nightingale and her intrepid band of nurses set sail in a rain-drenched dawn.

  It was the start of a tedious and uneventful voyage in a crowded vessel. Joy and Colin sought each other out whenever it was possible. But she had still to complete her training lectures for some of the last minute additions to the nursing corps. While Colin’s duties as liaison officer for the group was becoming more difficult each day, as dozens of unexpected problems turned up. The vessel carried a number of regular troops and stores so that it was crowded to capacity, making the voyage an uncomfortable one.

  Several times they encountered stormy seas, and there was a plague of seasickness. Not until they reached the comparative calm of the Aegean Sea did the voyage become more endurable. Joy was continually more impressed by the way her beloved Colin carried out his duties on the vessel. Somehow he managed to make the nursing corps comfortable without antagonizing the troops in their jammed quarters.

  His work was not missed by Florence Nightingale who confided in Joy, “We are most fortunate in having Captain Hill with us. I’m sure the adventures would have gotten off to a disastrous start otherwise.”

  Joy smiled. “I’m glad you are of that opinion. I surely agree.”

  The older woman told her, “Be sure to let him know how highly I regard him.”

  At last the long voyage came to an end. On November 4th, 1854, Florence Nightingale led her hardy little band of nurses onto the docks at Scutari. The first contingent of English nurses had landed in Turkey. Scutari was situated on the southern shore of the Bosphorus, just across the water from Istanbul.

  One of the first things they did was make a tour of the large Barrack Hospital. Florence Nightingale, accompanied by Joy and Colin, were led through the building by a young officer. Everything was in wretched condition and they became depressed. Florence Nightingale halted at the entrance of a large, bleak ward in which two dozen beds were placed close by one another on either side, with a narrow corridor between the forty-eight beds. Her plain face showed dismay. She asked their guide, “Are we supposed to care for the wounded in this place?”

  The young officer was apologetic. “I agree it is not ideal, Miss Nightingale. But it is the only building available.”

  The veteran nurse gazed around and complained, “But this makes no sense! Fresh air, pure water, and sunlight are of the most importance in hospital care. We can offer none of these here!”

  Colin, who looked weary and exasperated, explained, “I must admit we have inherited this mess. We must really blame the Turks. They have neglected the hospital shamefully and now are kind enough to turn it over to us.”

  Florence Nightingale said bitterly, “If this is the sort of cooperation we’re going to get I’d better find transport back to England for my girls.”

  Colin sighed. “Give me a few days. I’ll do everything I can to get this barracks into some sort of decent condition.”

  “It is bad,” Joy was forced to agree.

  Their guide grimaced. “You don’t know the worst of it, Miss. The place is infested with bedbugs and fleas, along with huge rats.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Florence Nightingale agreed. She shivered. “And it’s so cold!”

  “We’ll get to work at once on cleaning the place,” Colin said. “Then we’ll have to find some sort of emergency heating to make it habitable.”

  Florence Nightingale asked the guide, “Well, we know the worst about the hospital. What about our living quarters?”

  The young officer brightened. “No worry there, Miss. It’s clean and there is plenty of heat.”

  Colin gave the veteran nurse a knowing smile. “At least your group will have a spot to retreat to for comfort. Colonel Sanger has his offices and living quarters in the same building so you may be assured it will be well looked after.”

  Florence Nightingale looked grim. “That would follow!”

  So the struggle to turn the filthy barracks into a suitable hospital began. Colin was given a large crew drawn from his regiment to spearhead the cleaning and repairs. As soon as a suitable area was prepared, Joy moved in with her staff and began unpacking their medical supplies.

  She was busy one morning when Florence Nightingale came in to check on their progress. After satisfying herself that all was going well, the veteran nurse went to the window and looked at the bleak countryside. She said, “Those great mountains capped with snow remind me of the Alps.”

  “I had never expected it to be so cold,” she said.

  The older woman turned to her with a sigh. “It would be bad enough to face caring for the wounded here in ordinary weather. But we have encountered freezing temperatures.”

  Joy nodded. “I’m w
earing four layers of clothing. But Captain Hill promises the wards will be heated.”

  “Good! But we have not fit kitchens! There is no proper sewage system! Is it any wonder the death rate among our troops is a shocking sixty percent?”

  “We must do better,” Joy said earnestly. “In another few days we will be in operation.”

  The wounded literally poured in as soon as they opened their doors. Joy was in no way prepared for the deluge of human wreckage! She had thought that in Vienna’s mental hospital she had witnessed the ultimate in horror. But this was another sort of nightmare! And the haste and primitive conditions in which she found herself forced to work were incredible!

  It was a veritable inferno! The proud, young men who she had seen marching into battle were now being returned to the hospital in piteous condition! The bloodied, mutilated bodies on the stretchers gave out a chorus of moans.

  The doctors worked with frenzied speed. When the bodies first arrived, the initial task was to separate the living from those who had died en route. Then the hopelessly wounded were placed to one side while first attention was given to those who might be saved. The walking wounded might wait for hours, sometimes for a harrowing day and night, before a doctor could give them any attention. Infection, the insidious enemy of all army hospitals, was killing almost as many men as bullets.

  The courageous little band of nurses could not have guessed what it would be like. The novices without previous hospital experience were shocked into a state of numbness by the nightmare of it all. Joy spent much of her few hours of off-time duty trying to reassure these girls, and give them the courage to return to their duties again.

  Florence Nightingale was kept busy in her office much of the time dealing with the overall handling of the situation. Joy was with her one day when a grim-faced Colin came to join them. He said, “Cheer up, ladies! Colonel Sanger and his entourage have just arrived. From now on he will be making his offices here. True to type, he’s taking the best rooms in the living quarters for himself!”

  Florence Nightingale let out a small cry of despair and sat back in her chair. Forlornly, she said, “I’d almost rather welcome the Russians than Colonel Sanger.”

  Joy nodded. “At least they admit to being our enemy.”

  Colin said, “Don’t worry too much, ladies. If he gets beyond himself there is always a higher authority. And I shall not hesitate to complain if his actions make it necessary.”

  Later in the evening, Joy and Colin spent an hour together in her room. It was not easily arranged, she had taken her roommate, a girl from Liverpool, into her confidence. And she had readily agreed to make herself scarce. So they had a secret rendezvous in the tiny, cubicle warmed by a small iron stove and lit with candles.

  The bed was hard, but seemed like a thing of luxury as she and her handsome officer made love on it. Afterward, Colin leaned on an elbow and stared at her as their naked bodies lay close together under the blankets.

  He said, “I’m afraid we’re going to have trouble of a new sort with Sanger on the scene.”

  “As if we didn’t have enough problems with the hospital!”

  “He’ll ignore the sufferings of the wounded, and all your desperate efforts, while he concentrates on petty rules and regulations,” Colin said bitterly. “I know the type.”

  “And he’s bound to still harbor hate for me!”

  “He’d be wise not to show it,” Colin said darkly.

  “I’m sure I can manage him,” Joy said.

  “Let me do that,” Colin told her as he gently touched her cheek with his hand, and then clasped her to him again.

  Trouble began the following morning when the moon-faced Colonel Sanger visited their office in the company of Colin and two younger officers of his staff. The arrogant Sanger glared at Florence Nightingale and Joy, who was standing by her superior’s desk. His first volley was, “May I inform you the War Office in London is disturbed by your request for more nurses.”

  The veteran nurse preserved her calm. She said, “I do need more young women. I have recently been asked to organize field hospitals near the battle front. I have not even enough nurses to take care of the patients here.”

  Colonel Sanger fixed his monocle in his eyes. “You know the War Office feels you have still to prove yourself. They naturally have a healthy reluctance to broadening your authority.”

  Captain Colin Hill went crimson at this remark of the Colonel. Turning to him, he said quietly, “I really must speak on behalf of these ladies and the magnificent work I’ve seen them do, sir!”

  The Colonel scowled. “Indeed!”

  “Yes, sir,” Colin went on. “I think our War Office is a disgrace! Everyone here realizes that. The French are doing a capable job of conducting their campaign and lamenting the blunders we’re making! We are letting our allies down and causing a wholesale massacre of young Englishmen.”

  “How fortunate you are not on active duty, Captain,” the hateful Colonel drawled.

  Colin clenched his fists and for a moment looked as if he might strike the smirking Colonel. The two young officers with the Colonel looked alarmed. Joy held her breath, and could see that Florence Nightingale was looking strained.

  Then Colin relaxed a little and said, “Sir, I have asked to be allowed to return to my regiment as soon as I’m declared fit.”

  Florence Nightingale spoke up, “And meanwhile he has been invaluable to us. We could not have managed without him. I trust you will remain with us for tea, Colonel? We usually serve it about this time.”

  “Very well,” the Colonel said coldly. And while tea was being prepared, he went on to register other small complaints. Joy and Florence Nightingale served the men their tea and some cakes, and all sat to enjoy the simple treat.

  Over her teacup Florence Nightingale said, “I believe you know my assistant, Lady Canby-Layton?”

  The Colonel said coldly, “Yes. We have met.” And he gave her no attention for the balance of the tea. Yet she could feel that he still hated her and would undoubtedly wait for a suitable moment to make her grovel.

  This was not lost on Colin. And when he came to her one evening shortly afterwards, he said, “Darling, I’m leaving to rejoin my regiment at the front.”

  Tears filled her eyes and she protested, “You let that monster of a Sanger goad you into it!”

  “Maybe. Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’m much more worried about you.”

  “About me?”

  “Yes. I could tell the other morning he’s only waiting for a chance to harm you!”

  “Surely he can’t be so vindictive in the midst of all this suffering and death,” Joy protested.

  Colin shook his head grimly. “Don’t give him credit for a heart. You must be cautious! I won’t be here to protect you!”

  She stared up at him. “I’m so frightened!”

  He put his arms around her as they stood alone in the dark corridor, “Be brave! This war can’t last much longer! Not a slaughter like this! Even London will come to realize that.”

  She pressed close to him. “When do you leave?”

  “Some time tomorrow.”

  Her eyes sought his, her pitiful face upturned. “For the first time I’m truly terrified!” She was trembling.

  “Don’t!” he begged her. Then in a soft tone, he asked, “How about your room in an hour?”

  “I’ll manage it somehow,” she promised.

  And she did. They had the room to themselves for a long night of passionate lovemaking. All too soon, the dawn came and she had to leave for her morning rounds of the hospital wards. She left him getting into his uniform, his kiss still warm on her lips, and went out to face the ordeal of the wards of wounded and dying soldiers. And all she could think of as she went among them was that soon Colin might be occupying a bed in one of these wards. Colin crying out in pain!

  It turned out to be their last time together before he marched off to war, a fine figure in his red, gold, and blue uniform.<
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  Florence Nightingale was shocked at his going. She told Joy, “We shall miss your Captain Hill. Now we will be dealing directly with Colonel Sanger. That will not be easy!”

  “I’m afraid not,” she agreed.

  The veteran nurse looked at her from her desk. In her abrupt way, she said, “You and Captain Hill are in love, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said it in a small voice.

  Her superior offered one of her rare smiles, and leaned out to take her hand. “It was obvious. I realized it from the first. I’m sorry I’ve had to keep you so much apart in your personal lives.”

  “We both understood.”

  The veteran nurse gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “I’m glad you don’t see me as a dragon with no sympathy for romance. That isn’t true. But my crusade comes first! Don’t worry too much about Colin. I’m sure he will return to us unharmed.”

  “I hope so.”

  Now Joy threw herself into her hospital duties with fierce dedication. It kept her from worrying, and the challenge was greater than before. The horror of the battles came to them in a procession of maimed and bleeding, hour after hour, day after day! The human wreckage poured in after the Russian cannons had decimated them. One of the younger nurses, a vicar’s daughter, went mad from the carnage and hung herself. This sent another shock through the brave little band and caused much talk among the command.

  Were Florence Nightingale and her brigade of nurses showing themselves capable? This was the question the War Office could not decide. London was a long way off, and they had no contact with the weary nurses working heroically in wards crowded with the maimed.

  Colonel Thomas Sanger had a nice indifference to all the bloodshed and suffering around him. His main concerns were the items lists and balance sheets. Ignoring the wounded and dying, he continued to criticize their bookkeeping!

  Then Joy began to notice a subtle difference in his manner towards her. With Colin absent at the front the Colonel seemed to be taking a new and perhaps friendlier interest in her. One afternoon he met her in one of the corridors between the wards, and studying her through his monocle said, “My dear Lady Canby-Layton, why are you so opposed to me?”