The Girls of Pearl Harbor

by Lane, Soraya M.

  ‘Take cover!’ a sailor screamed as he ran past her. ‘Take cover!’

  Cover? Where was she supposed to take cover? And who on earth were they taking cover from?

  Boom!

  The noise was so loud it reverberated through her, a cold chill spreading down her spine as her teeth rattled. She clenched them tight, braced for another explosion, and watched a nearby ship seem to rise up and then smack back down again, red balls of fire shooting upward as things flew overboard and into the water.

  She stared, her feet rooted to the spot. They weren’t things; they were people!

  Eva gulped and forced herself to move closer and watch as the plane roared back overhead and sent more bombs into yet another ship while sailors bobbed around in the water like debris, as if a tree had fallen and was broken into limbs in the ocean. Only these limbs belonged to human beings, and the screaming that was echoing off the sea was the men calling in terror as they died.

  ‘We need to help them!’ she screamed, her body shaking as she fisted and unfisted her hands, heart beating so fast she wondered if she was having a heart attack. ‘We need to help them!’

  Were they next? As another plane came, she looked up in horror, running to the railings and staring out, hand clamped across her mouth now as she looked at the shore, at the decimated buildings smoldering, at the carnage she could only glimpse from where she was standing.

  And then she looked back, struggling to breathe, gasping as she drank in the sight of her own ship. Surely the giant red cross on each side of their enormous white boat was like a target, marking them to be bombed? How had they not been hit yet?

  ‘What’s going on?’

  Eva turned at the cry behind her and saw a handful of nurses watching, huddled together. She’d been so paralyzed with her own fear she hadn’t thought to run down and alert the other girls.

  ‘I think, I think . . . ,’ she stuttered, looking up again, trying to expel the words as she gasped. ‘I think we’re at war. I think we’ve been bombed by the Japanese.’

  Was that their emblem? The big red sun on the side of each plane? Was that who was bombing their beautiful harbor, killing their men and destroying their buildings and boats by the dozen?

  ‘We can’t be at war! Someone would surely have told us!’

  Eva just shook her head. ‘If this isn’t war, then I don’t know what it is.’

  ‘What do we do?’ asked another nurse, sobbing as she ran forward and grabbed Eva’s hand. ‘Tell us what to do. How do we get to shore? We need to get to somewhere safe!’

  Some of the other nurses were crying hysterically now, and Eva stared back at them as a wave of calm rolled through her, as serene as the overhead scene was violent. She took a deep breath.

  ‘There is nowhere safe,’ she said, raising her voice so they could all hear her over the drone of planes and the shouting of men. She turned back to the water and watched as their own sailors dragged people into the small liberty boats. They were going to be bringing them back to the Solace, and that meant they were about to be inundated with patients. The reality of what they were about to face sent a quiver through her. ‘Those men out there? They need our help. We need to get the ward ready for an influx, and we need the operating theaters prepped too.’

  ‘They’re howling in pain,’ one of the nurses said, moving close to Eva and leaning out over the railings. ‘Do you think it’s from being shot?’

  Eva looked at the water and saw the curious sight of fire whipping across the water in patches. And then she noticed the bright swirls of oil, and fear clutched at her throat.

  ‘They’re burning,’ she whispered. ‘It’s the oil in the water . . . it’s . . .’ She choked on the words, hating to imagine what they were about to deal with, how horrific the injuries would be.

  ‘Do you think anyone’s alive on the island?’ the same nurse said. ‘Look at the smoke.’

  Eva followed her point, refusing to give in to the panic that was bubbling below the surface of her mind, trying to draw her in. She had to stay focused; she had to lead these women right now and try to save as many lives as they could. But knowing that her Charlie was there on land? That his base might have been hit? She gulped. And what of her new friends? Were they among the dead, or were they bravely preparing to save men right now too?

  The youngest of the nurses, a young girl named Sally, was crying so hard she started retching, bright-yellow vomit pooling at her feet and running across the deck as she bent over.

  ‘Sally,’ Eva said, marching over to her as the ship suddenly jerked. ‘Sally, you need to pull it together. We’ll need someone to man the phone lines—do you think you can do that? You need to keep trying to make contact with Tripler General Hospital to see what the situation is there, and Schofield or Hickam. Do you hear me?’

  Sally looked up and nodded, her eyes swimming with tears.

  ‘This is your job. We’re counting on you, but you need to go now.’

  Sally nodded furiously, her head bobbling, before she gathered her skirt and ran down the deck just as the first men were being hauled up.

  ‘I could have done the phones,’ another nurse offered.

  ‘We need everyone in the ward,’ Eva said. ‘But Sally would have fainted at her first patient, I think.’

  She’d done the right thing in sending her off, but it had also been selfish. She wanted to know what had happened to the people she cared about, and as soon as she got a moment, she’d be calling herself to try to speak to Charlie. She swallowed her emotions as she thought of him, imagined him being gunned down, what that would mean for her if she lived and he didn’t. But she needed to ignore the voice in her head. She might not survive the morning; they could all be taken prisoners of war if they did live. The only thing she had control over was her ability to care for others and save lives, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

  ‘We need help over here!’

  The noise hit her then. It was as if she’d been blocking everything else out, focused only on what she needed to do, on how she could help. Suddenly all she could hear were explosions and the whirring of aircraft, the screaming of men, the yells for help, the smaller boats being hauled in against their ship.

  ‘Bring them straight to the ward!’ she called back. ‘We’re ready for them.’

  But as she hurried to the hospital, all set up and waiting for patients that had never come until now, she knew they weren’t ready. There was no possible way they could be ready for what was to come. Smoke filled her nostrils then, the dry, suffocating smell of something burning.

  Charlie. She shook her head as if it would stop the thoughts, as if she could somehow just shut her brain down. Charlie, where are you? Surely she’d know if he was dead? Wouldn’t she be able to feel it in her bones? Wouldn’t she sense that he was gone?

  ‘Nurse!’

  She spun around and saw a man being carried by a sailor. Or at least she guessed it was a man. His hair was gone, replaced with raw, oozing red flesh. His eyes were glued to her as if he was stuck in his body and was begging her with his gaze. The clothes covering what was left of him were wet and torn, and one of his legs appeared to be hanging.

  ‘Get him to the closest bed,’ she said, forcing her words out. ‘And keep them coming.’

  She traded glances with the sailor, saw the pain on his face as tears slipped silently down his cheeks. She bet the young man had never, ever cried like that before, but maybe he didn’t even know he was doing it because he was in such a state of shock.

  ‘Great work saving him,’ she said, leaning close and patting his shoulder. ‘Now go and save some more.’

  ‘They’re all like this,’ he whispered, his eyes wide as he stared back at her. ‘Every single one of them.’

  She shuddered and turned, gathering her supplies, grateful that they’d been so methodical with their equipment in the long months of having very little work to do. Until now she’d only had to tend to minor wounds and nurse men through
some basic illnesses. But she wasn’t like some of the other girls; she had a strong stomach, and she’d survived a childhood that demanded she get on with life. She wasn’t allowed to moan or feel sorry for herself; she’d simply had to survive and keep her chin up, to not let anyone see her pain.

  ‘Today is a day for saving lives,’ she said loudly. She took a large cotton swab and doused it in alcohol, then placed it against the man’s skin so she could prep the site before putting an IV line in.

  His scream sliced through the air at the same moment that bile rose in her throat, as the entire length of skin on his forearm peeled away. She stared in horror before buckling over and vomiting, over and over again until there was nothing left in her stomach, then hurriedly grabbed a vial and filled a needle with morphine. She quickly injected it into the man’s other arm, before noticing that his eyes were shut, the pain already knocking him out cold.

  Eva pressed a careful two fingers to his neck, feeling for his pulse as she stared at his chest. Dread pulsed through her as she realized that he was definitely still alive; she’d almost hoped, with his body ravaged by burns and the suffering ahead of him, that he’d slipped away.

  ‘Help!’ a man yelled.

  ‘We’ve got three boats filled with the injured!’ another screamed out.

  Eva watched as patient after patient started to fill their beds. How could so many men be missing limbs? How were these men even alive still with burns to so much of their bodies?

  If this was war, then she had no idea how they were going to survive it. And as bad as this was, she couldn’t decide what would be a worse fate: plunging to her death into the ocean or being taken by the Japanese. But if there was even a chance of her Charlie being alive still? Tears sprang into her eyes as she moved to the next bed, ready to do her best to save every life she could. Then she would do anything she could to stay alive herself. Charlie needed her, and more than anything in the world, she needed him too.

  Eva looked up when she heard her name being called, using her blood-smudged forearm to wipe the sweat from her face. Every inch of her was wet, the humidity stifling in the cramped hospital quarters, where every bed and other usable surface was now covered with bodies.

  Sally appeared at her side, her eyes still swimming with tears, her face so white she looked like a ghost.

  ‘Any word?’

  Sally shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘And you’ve been trying all morning?’ Eva glanced up at the clock, wondering how it was almost afternoon already. They’d been working for hours without so much as a ten-minute break, and as she glanced around the room, she knew that it’d be ongoing for hours more to come.

  ‘Sh-should I keep trying?’ Sally stuttered.

  Eva nodded. ‘Yes. But keep the executive officer posted if you make contact, won’t you?’ She didn’t know how or why she’d become a person of authority, but the other girls seemed to want to look to her, for her to take charge in the ward, and their matron had been off duty and on land when the attack had begun. They didn’t even know if she was alive or not.

  ‘He’s been past three times already. I h-have messages to relay if I get through.’

  Eva’s patient started to moan again, and she grimaced as she turned back to him, not getting any better at dealing with the horrific burns even after hours of facing them. She wondered, though, if anyone could ever be accustomed to seeing skin peeling from bone, blistered to the point of falling away, or the agony of a man’s face as twisted and contorted in pain as those in front of her.

  ‘Help me,’ croaked a sailor. ‘Please help me.’

  Eva took a deep breath, trying not to smell his skin. She moved forward, careful not to touch him, not about to make the same mistake twice and have entire stretches of skin come off at once.

  ‘That’s my job,’ she said, trying to sound bright. ‘First I’m going to take the pain away with morphine, and then . . .’

  She stopped talking when his fingers clasped her wrist, holding her tight, before loosening and falling away. Eva stared at his face, at his open eyes, her breath choking in her throat as she tried to speak again.

  ‘Sailor!’ she eventually cried, her voice barely a whisper. ‘Please wake up. Please.’

  But as his lifeless eyes stared back at her, his arm fallen limply over the side of the bed, she knew he was gone. She slowly looked in horror around the entire ward, her stomach clenching as she truly saw what was going on around her. The room was filled with the dead and dying. How many would they even be able to save? Shouts echoed around her, nurses whispered as they tried to figure out what to do, and men groaned and cried out for their mothers and wives. And she just stood there, numb, fighting the pull to fall apart, to just collapse to the ground and give up. Were they all going to die anyway?

  ‘Morgue?’ someone asked.

  She didn’t even bother looking up. ‘Yes.’

  And as he was taken, the sailor with no name, the sailor who’d begged her for help, another man was dropped in his place. She sprang forward, not about to rest on her laurels or fall into numbness when someone needed her. It was when she wasn’t needed that she’d slip into a puddle on the floor. She felt like blood had invaded every nook and cranny of the hospital, as if red was now the prevailing color everywhere she looked.

  Burns ravaged the man’s body, but this one wasn’t crying or whimpering. He was just staring at her, and she bent low to whisper to him.

  ‘I’m going to look after you,’ she promised. ‘First comes pain relief, and then I’ll treat your wounds.’

  Eva prepared the morphine and slid the needle under his skin, slowly pushing until he’d received it all. She’d given him a lot—she’d had to—and she watched as the relief eventually started, his eyelids fluttering slightly, before she used sulfa powder and mineral oil to treat his burns, methodically working her way over his body, cutting his clothes where she needed to.

  And it was then she realized how quiet it had become outside. There were no longer aircrafts buzzing too low or firing at them; the booming quake of American ships firing back had disappeared. She didn’t even know how long it had been quiet. It could have been hours, and she wouldn’t have even realized.

  ‘Ladies, listen up!’ a man yelled.

  She finished with the burn she was treating and paused, wiping her brow again as sweat touched her eyelashes, as their executive officer stood to command near the middle of their ward.

  ‘This morning has been a nightmare for us all, but I want to commend you all for what you’re doing,’ he said, his voice carrying through the big room. ‘We don’t know what’s going to happen next, but we’re all still here, kind of like rats in a trap! We’re just going to carry on as best we can and pray that the worst of the attack is over.’

  Eva blinked as tears slipped through her lashes and onto her cheeks. She took a big shuddering breath and shut her eyes for a moment, wondering for the hundredth time whether she was going to survive the day, whether any of them would.

  ‘I want you all to have a quick break when you can, to catch your breath for ten minutes, and dinner will be served as scheduled.’

  The thought of food made her want to vomit, but she knew he was right. Without eating they’d all collapse, and without capable nurses to assist, the injured men had no chance of survival.

  ‘Have the other boats in the harbor been hit?’ someone called out.

  ‘I understand that we may be the only vessel that has not been bombed,’ the executive officer replied quietly.

  ‘What about on land? What’s happened to our boys?’ a nurse asked.

  ‘And the nurses stationed at the other hospitals?’ Eva called out.

  ‘We’ve still had no contact at this stage. All lines of communication are currently down; however, we’re attempting to turn a radio on in here for you all to listen to.’

  He walked away and left them, and Eva turned back to her patient, her hands surprisingly steady despite the tremor within her bo
dy.

  If Charlie was dead, she’d never forgive herself. She’d been the one to stop him from leaving; it had been her begging him to stay.

  She smiled down at the sailor, who was still riding the wave of morphine.

  She just needed to believe that some nurse with a kind smile was looking after her Charlie if he was injured. She had to believe. She couldn’t go back to her father. She just couldn’t. Even as she worked to tend to her patient’s horrific burns, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, about what he’d done to her, what he’d do to her again if she had to return.

  His fist connected with her stomach, a powerful blow that puffed the air from her lungs and made her double over. She refused to make a noise, because even a tiny yelp of pain would have given him satisfaction, and she would give him none.

  A hand slammed into her shoulder then, forcing her back against the wall, her stomach cramping as she was forced to straighten. And then her father’s fingers clamped around her throat, like claws, holding her tight as his alcohol-tainted breath filled her nostrils.

  ‘You think you’re better than us, with your fancy boyfriend and your fancy new nursing job, don’t you?’

  Eva stared back at him, struggling for air, trying not to cry even as tears involuntarily leaked from her eyes.

  ‘You leave this house, you’ll never come back. You hear me? Don’t you ever come crawling back here again.’

  She squeezed her eyes shut as his grip tightened, wishing her mother would come for her, wishing her mother would yell at him and tell him to leave the house. But she didn’t. Eva knew she’d be cowering in her bedroom, so obedient to a man who’d never treated her right.

  He finally let her go, and she slipped to the floor, gasping for breath, her lungs screaming out. But she stayed silent, ready to defy him again if she had to.

  Eva was jolted from her thoughts as more yells echoed through the ward and the reality of what she was dealing with hit her full force. She pushed her father from her mind, refusing to think about what might happen if Charlie was gone.