The Girls of Pearl Harbor

by Lane, Soraya M.

  Because without her Charlie, the Japanese may as well just kill her too.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  APRIL

  April might have always dreamed of being a doctor one day, but until today, she’d barely done more than change dressings and give injections and perform other basic treatments. Assisting Dr. Grey had been the closest she’d been to surgery, but within the past few hours, she’d done more procedures and seen more wounds than any amount of training or textbooks could have prepared her for.

  Her latest patient had just been brought in, and she could see from the state of his leg, with flesh and bone protruding and his ankle at a peculiar angle, that he was going to have to be prepared for surgery. She glanced over at the corridor, the one leading to the emergency operating theaters they’d set up, and knew he’d be waiting hours before a surgeon could attend to him.

  She touched his hand, hoping her warm pat was reassuring, as she read the smudged M and T on his forehead. There was no more pain relief she could give him, but judging from the shaking of his body and the bluish tinge to his lips, he was either simply cold or entering into shock. Given his wounds, she was guessing shock.

  ‘I’m going to find you a blanket,’ she said, smiling down at him. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’

  She quickly went to the supplies cupboard where they were kept, but the shelves where they were usually neatly stacked were bare.

  ‘Any blankets?’ she called to a corpsman who rushed past her.

  ‘None left here,’ he said without stopping.

  April glanced back at her patient and decided to run for blankets herself. She had the other patients under her care as stable as she could make them, and others were already lined up in their beds, waiting for surgery. She walked fast, not wanting to trip with so many people everywhere, and pushed through the doors leading past the nurses’ mess area and through another set of doors. There were patients there, too, all waiting, all groaning and crying to themselves as if they were trying so hard not to disturb others, but the pain was so intense they couldn’t even breathe without a noise coming from their bodies.

  ‘April, is that you?’

  The male voice was deep and commanding, and she knew instinctively that it belonged to Dr. Grey before she saw him. She walked into the temporary operating room and found him working alone with a flashlight shining from a shelf where he’d positioned it.

  ‘I need you to help me move this patient,’ he said. ‘The nurse helping me never came back!’

  ‘Of course,’ she replied, hurrying to his side and looking down at the soldier. He was as white as a sheet, and from the flutter of his eyelids, she could see he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

  ‘Where should I stand?’ she asked, noticing how extensive his burns were. ‘Is it safe to move him?’

  Dr. Grey gave her a sharp stare from the head of the bed, and she quickly looked down, wishing she hadn’t said anything.

  ‘Please prepare the paper.’

  She reached for the oil and slathered it over the fresh paper, ready for the patient. It was what they’d been taught to do for any patient with severe burns, to stop them from sticking painfully to a sheet.

  ‘You take his feet; I’ll take his upper body,’ Dr. Grey said.

  She nodded.

  ‘And thank you,’ Grey murmured. ‘It’s nice to have your assistance again.’

  After everything that had happened, all the tragedy, the loss of life, she knew it was stupid to light up over a little comment, but she couldn’t help smiling as she reached for the man’s feet and counted with the doctor.

  ‘One, two, three!’

  No!

  April opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She stared at her hand, buckling forward as she dropped what was left of the patient to the paper, before realizing what she still had hold of.

  She was holding his ankle in her hand. She was holding half a leg in her bare hand! The man’s leg had fallen away at the knee. The rest of the poor man was lying in front of her, and she was holding his burned, bloody leg!

  ‘I . . . I . . . ,’ she stuttered, dropping the leg and backing away.

  ‘You weren’t to know; it’s fine,’ Dr. Grey said. ‘I may have had to amputate anyway.’

  April raised her eyes, looking from Grey to the patient, barely able to make a sound, she was so horrified.

  Why had they tried to move him? Why had that happened? Why wasn’t Dr. Grey looking as shell shocked as she was? Had he seen this type of thing before?

  ‘April?’

  She huddled forward, trying to breathe, trying not to be sick.

  ‘April, we’ve lost him. We did our best,’ Dr. Grey said.

  Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder, a warm, strong hand that somehow made it easier for her to breathe. April looked up and into dark, warm eyes that were the complete opposite of how she felt inside.

  ‘He’s gone, April. He was probably never going to make it.’

  She gulped, nodding her head, over and over again. Had she killed him when his leg had come away?

  ‘Don’t let this moment stop you. What did you come looking for?’

  April exhaled. ‘A blanket. Blankets. For the patients arriving.’

  He extended his hand, and she grasped it, pulling to her feet as he slowly let her go.

  ‘Go get those blankets, and then come back and find me when you’re ready to assist again. Send someone else back in the meantime; we need more nurses in surgery.’

  She glanced at Dr. Grey one last time before hurrying to get them, taking three just in case. She tried to forget the smell, the feel, the look of the leg in her hand, of the way it had just so casually fallen away from the man’s knee like slow-cooked meat from the oven, and ran all the way back to her patient, the one who’d been shivering. The one who was waiting for her. The one she could save.

  But he was gone.

  And there was already another man in his place.

  ‘Where did he go?’ she asked aloud, but of course no one heard her and no one answered. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Water,’ croaked the new patient. ‘Please. Water.’

  She wiped tears from her cheeks and tucked the blanket around him, needing something to do, needing to give the blanket to someone.

  ‘Please let this be over,’ she whispered. ‘Please.’

  She put a straw into the cup of water and gently touched the back of her patient’s head to help him rise, terrified skin or bone was going to come away and grimacing as she waited for him to sip.

  ‘Don’t let them take me,’ he cried. ‘If they come for me, kill me first.’

  She kept hold of the water, frowning down at him. ‘Who’s coming for you?’

  ‘The Japs,’ he whispered. ‘They’ll come back for each and every one of us. This isn’t over! They’re coming!’

  April set the cup down and stared at her patient as her legs began to shake.

  No one was taking her. She’d fight alongside their men if she had to, but no one was ever coming back and taking her prisoner. She knew what kinds of awful things men did to enemy women, and she was never, ever going to let that happen to her.

  ‘You’re safe here,’ she whispered, not knowing if she was lying or not. ‘I’m here to save lives, sir. I promise.’

  His smile made her knees knock even harder. She’d already lost more patients than she’d saved today, but as she gritted her teeth and started to assess his wounds, she decided that there was nothing wrong with a little optimism and a dash of a white lie to make someone believe they were going to survive.

  ‘Grace?’ April called, spinning around and looking for her sister. She didn’t know what the time was, it had been the longest day she’d ever experienced, and she didn’t even know if it was the same day or the next. As the influx of new patients had finally slowed, the corpsmen and some of the less wounded soldiers and navy boys had started to fix big heavy blankets to the windows, which explained why she’d fou
nd it so hard to find a blanket for her patient earlier. She pulled at the front of her dress, trying to let in some air against her wet, sticky skin. The humidity was bad enough as it was without the blankets blocking out whatever air was able to circulate naturally. It was like a furnace in the ward now, and she bet the operating theaters would be even worse when they eventually made their way there.

  But if it meant their lights couldn’t be seen, and the blackout stopped them being hit, then so be it.

  ‘Grace!’ she called again, walking around and looking for her sister still. She touched one of the nurses on the arm, apologizing when she saw her jump at the contact. ‘Sorry—I was only wondering if you’d seen my sister, Grace? She looks a lot like me, blonde hair in a bun?’

  The nurse shook her head, and April thanked her, wondering if she should hold on to her or not. Half the nurses looked like they were about to keel over, either from exhaustion, the heat, or what they’d been through. She grimaced. More likely a combination of all three.

  ‘Grace!’

  ‘Under here,’ came a muffled call. Only it belonged to a distinctly male voice, not a woman.

  April bent when she saw a boot protruding from beneath the bed. ‘Who’s under there?’ she asked.

  And then she saw Grace, huddled to the back, and the man whom the boot belonged to lying on his side in the confined space.

  ‘Grace! What are you doing under here?’ she asked, shuffling forward on her knees and reaching out a hand to her sister.

  ‘She won’t say anything,’ the man said. ‘She was my nurse until all this happened, and she was fine for a while, but then she just collapsed. I don’t know what happened.’

  April quickly blinked away tears, as much from exhaustion as emotion. She shouldn’t have left her sister after they’d both seen Poppy’s body, but she’d stayed with her as long as she could, and if she hadn’t gone, how many men wouldn’t have received treatment? A group of horrifically burned men had been brought in right after she’d run off to help, meaning to come back at once.

  ‘It’s okay; I’ll talk to her,’ she said. ‘And what are you doing under here anyway?’

  ‘I moved to make space for whoever needed the bed more than me. If I could have gone out and fought, I would have.’

  April had seen every able-bodied and almost abled man flee from the hospital the second they’d realized they were under attack. One man had even cut off the cast on his arm so he could get out and fight. So she could only imagine how frustrated this patient was not to be able to go.

  ‘Where are you hurt?’ she asked. ‘Should I try to find somewhere else for you?’ His arm was in a sling, and she could see from the grimace when he moved that he wasn’t comfortable.

  ‘I’m just fine here. I can tell from the howling that those men in the beds need the comfort more than me.’

  ‘Well, at least tell me if you need some pain relief,’ she said. ‘And thank you for looking after Grace. She’s witnessed some terrible things today.’

  She waited for him to say ‘haven’t we all,’ but he didn’t, smiling at Grace instead.

  ‘You keep singing when you feel better,’ he said to Grace cheerfully. ‘Having a little songbird around is enough to keep everyone fighting for their lives.’

  ‘Hang on—weren’t you the one who was on the desk, trying to make contact with the other hospitals?’ She’d been trying to work out why he looked so familiar.

  ‘Someone else took over, so I came back under here. And that’s when I found this one.’

  April reached for Grace and helped her out from beneath the bed, wrapping her arms around her like she would a small child and sitting on the floor with her. She’d heard her sister singing earlier, and it had been like listening to their mother, her soft, melodic voice drifting through the ward. It was one of the things she’d noticed the most when she’d died; their house seemed so quiet all the time. There was no humming as their mother went from room to room with freshly folded laundry, or singing as she cooked dinner. The house had seemed empty without her, the only reminder the perfume that still lingered in the air, wafting from her bedroom.

  ‘Grace, I’m going to get you something to eat,’ April said. ‘You need to keep your strength up.’

  Grace’s face crumpled as April stared down at her. Her heart broke for her sister, but as she held her, her own tears disappeared. It had been the same way when their mother had passed; April had stepped up to look after her younger sister and care for their dad when he couldn’t even get out of bed, and instead of sobbing along with Grace, she’d simply taken over every duty that their mom once had. At first she’d loved it; everyone had told her what a good girl she was, how dependable she was, and she’d liked the attention. It had taken her mind off what had happened and kept her busy. But over time she’d started to resent always having to be the sensible one, always having to run their household and keep up with school and anything else that was going on in their lives that their father should have dealt with. But today she just wanted to hold her sister, and as much as she was missing Poppy, as much as she knew she’d have nightmares about what had happened right in front of them, she needed to care for Grace. And she needed them both to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  ‘Grace, I need you to listen to me,’ she said softly, still holding her sister.

  Grace clung to her as she stroked her back.

  ‘Right now, we have men who need us. Without us, they’ll die or suffer terribly,’ April said. ‘What happened to us, to Poppy, it’s terrible. But we can’t give up.’

  Grace started to cry again then, softly into April’s shoulder, just as the room exploded with noise again. More men were being brought in, more to add to the never-ending stream, and she knew they couldn’t just sit there in a puddle on the ground for the rest of the day.

  ‘I want you to go back to doing the injections and checking pain levels,’ she instructed. ‘That’s something you can do. It’s something we need you to do.’

  Grace sat back, and April gently brushed her thumbs across her cheeks.

  ‘I need to hear you say yes, Grace,’ April said. ‘Tell me you can do it?’

  Grace nodded and whispered, ‘I can do it.’

  April kissed her forehead, then stood, holding out a hand and pulling her sister to her feet. She studied her, watched as she swayed on her feet slightly before meeting her gaze.

  ‘Are they coming for us too?’ Grace whispered.

  April shuddered. ‘Honestly, I don’t know. But we’re semiprepared now. Our boys will look after us; they won’t be surprised again.’ Or at least she hoped so.

  Her sister looked frozen, the expression on her face never changing.

  ‘You just handle the morphine, okay?’ April said. ‘Everyone will be grateful if you take care of that, but don’t forget to mark them.’

  Grace was still standing there, and April gave her a tiny nudge forward.

  ‘Come on.’

  She watched her sister walk to a bed, reaching out a hand to steady herself, and then she hurried off to find Dr. Grey again. He’d said to come find him when she was ready to assist him again, and she was. If he needed her, then traumatic or not, she was going to do whatever was asked of her. Too many people had died today already, and she wasn’t going to stand by and let her own fear and pain get in the way of saving lives.

  The smell of food made her stomach growl as she passed by the cafeteria, but she did her best to ignore it and kept up her brisk pace until she was forced to slow by a backlog of patients waiting for surgery. She went down the line, checking they’d all had some sort of pain relief and had needed blankets, but most men were quietly suffering now, some likely close to death as they were forced to wait.

  ‘Dr. Grey?’ she called, before entering the room and finding him bent low, a flashlight balanced nearby for extra light as he operated.

  ‘Dr. Grey, it’s April,’ she said as she moved closer, exchanging smiles with a nurse positi
oned to his left. ‘Can I help at all?’

  ‘Prepare my next patient,’ he said without looking up. ‘Oh, and April, thanks for coming back.’

  She clenched her hands tight, trying to stop them from shaking as she stood. ‘Is it first come, first served, or do you want me to assess those waiting to gauge who’s most critical?’

  ‘Just bring in the one closest to the door. Hopefully we’ll have another surgeon join us here soon.’

  Dr. Grey was working from one of the converted rooms, away from the bulk of the surgeons, who were in the dedicated operating theaters. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than not operating at all.

  April turned to leave, but he called to her again.

  ‘April, we’re short an anesthetist; would you please run and check what to give our next patient and then administer it when I’m ready?’

  Her heart started to thud almost as rapidly as it had when the bombs had fallen. ‘You want me to administer the anesthetic?’ she asked. ‘Just to be clear, sir.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘If you’re not up to the task, then I can ask—’

  ‘No!’ she interrupted. ‘Of course, I was only making certain I’d heard you correctly.’

  April hurried back to the hallway and checked the closest patient. His burns were horrific, although they’d no doubt been cleaned as best they could, but it was his arm that was a mess, one of the goriest sights she’d ever seen.

  ‘We’ll be with you soon,’ she said, checking his temperature and forcing herself to study his limb. She had a sinking feeling that it would be a straight amputation, and she couldn’t stand thinking how many men would wake up after surgery to find they’d lost a body part before nightfall.

  She went to find an anesthetist then, confident she could give the man’s approximate height and weight. Part of her was thrilled that Dr. Grey had so much confidence in her, but the other part knew that in any other situation, someone like her would never be allowed to administer lethal drugs. She gulped. What if she didn’t give enough drugs and had a patient in excruciating pain wake up during surgery to see or feel his arm being sawed off!