Read Nancy Dale, Army Nurse Page 14


  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  TOMMY'S BOMBARDIER

  Nancy's unit went into action in northern Australia. The trip up to thenew hospital was an exciting experience to these nurses, most of whomhad never left the States before.

  "Seems queer to find it so much warmer as we go north," said Nancyduring their first day's travel by train.

  "I feel as though I'm living upside down, or something," remarkedMabel. "When we're asleep it's broad daylight at home. While it's warmat home we're shivering here."

  Though it was late fall in the southern hemisphere, flowers were stillblooming in great profusion in gardens and parks. Many of the flowerswere unfamiliar, but Nancy did recognize the hibiscus bushes. Thetrees, too, were strangers to them and had strange names. They saw theeucalyptus for the first time. Another tree had needles like the pineback home, but fewer branches, which made it less picturesque.

  To many of the American girls this was like another world. Yet when thetrain stopped at stations along the way veterans of the variouscampaigns came up to the windows of their carriage to greet them,speaking English and asking about America. Most of them had old-youngfaces, as if each year of fighting had been like ten of ordinary life.Some were so newly returned from the fighting they still had thatfixed, dull look in their eyes that was to become so familiar to thenurses later, the look of men who had seen awful things, never to beforgotten.

  "I know your men will be glad to see you American Sisters," said aveteran of Dunkirk at one station.

  They learned that the Australian nurses were always called "Sisters."

  The hospital to which they were assigned proved to be far morecomfortable than they had anticipated. Several blocks of bungalows in asmall town had been taken over for hospital use. These houses remindedNancy of farmhouses in her own southland, for they were built high offthe ground on stilts, so the air could circulate under them. Like theAmerican houses also, they were surrounded by wide porches.

  Again the nurses were packed four in a room, and Nancy had the samecongenial roommates she had had on the boat. There was little chance tothink of their own comfort, however, for they were plunged at once intowork. For the first time since they left California their foot lockerswere brought to their rooms, and once more they had all their baggage.It seemed good to settle down and actually begin the work for whichthey had trained and traveled halfway around the world.

  The girls had just started unpacking when news spread that a convoy ofpatients, a day overdue, was coming in. These were American boys whohad been given first treatments in field hospitals and had been flownback from the front.

  In a half-hour Nancy had donned her brown-and-white-striped seersuckeruniform and received her first assignment from Lieutenant Hauser. Thewalls had been torn out of the entire lower floor of several bungalowsto make wards about seventy-five feet in length. Nancy's heart went outin compassion when she caught a glimpse of those long rows of beds andthe faces on those pillows--faces gray with weariness, suffering anddirt.

  Her first job, and that of many other nurses, was to get the mencleaned up, and begin dressing their wounds. The bandages had not beentouched during the trying convoy journey from the landing field.

  "It's glad I am to see ye," said the first man to whom Nancy ministered.

  It must have taken courage to force that smile to his round Irish face,for gangrene had taken hold of his shrapnel-shattered leg, and Nancyknew it would have to be taken off promptly.

  "And glad I am to be here," she told him cheerfully.

  "How's everything back home?" the next boy wanted to know.

  "Oh, just fine! We got here only ten days ago."

  "Haven't had a scratch of mail in nearly four months. I hear you allare having it pretty tough with the rationing, and strikes and all."

  "We haven't a thing to complain of as to food," Nancy retorted. "We'restill living like royalty."

  "So're we," agreed the man whose arm had been shot off, "except oncewhen we ran short of supplies--caught on an island withoutreinforcements."

  "We'll make that up to you here," Nancy assured him, and swallowed hardon the lump in her throat. She wasn't going to let any of this get herdown, or she couldn't go on looking after them. "I'll see you get anextra helping of dessert this very day."

  "Say, if you get a whiff of apple pie please label a hunk for me."Suddenly the blue eyes above the shaggy beard flashed. "You know it wasa funny thing. While I was lying out there on the beach when they blewmy arm into the sea I got to thinking about Ma's apple pies. Queer howa fellow can think of such a thing at a time like that. Like a dumbbloke I didn't worry about the arm much, just thought, 'Now it would bejust too bad if I never get to taste one o' Ma's apple pies again!'"

  Nancy laughed in spite of her stinging tears. "I'll see that you get awhole pie if I have to make it myself," she promised him.

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  _"How's Everything Back Home?" the Boy Asked_]

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  And so she went down the line of beds, cheering and joking with themwhile she looked after their wounds. There were few complaints. But howeagerly they welcomed the gentle hands that came to minister to them.Most were ready with brave banter, but some, too ill for speech, turnedpleading eyes that spoke volumes toward Nancy.

  Nancy's supper hour was forgotten. There were too many who still neededattention. When her period of duty was over she went back to her room,feeling utterly spent. This first contact with those fresh from thefighting zone had taken more out of her than she had anticipated. Inspite of the physical weariness Nancy had a wonderful sense ofwell-being. At the moment she felt certain there was no greater work inthe world than that of any army nurse.

  Mabel and Shorty had already gone out on duty when Nancy and Ida Hallreturned to their room. Nancy was relieved to see that Mabel had puther clothes in order. The two nurses who had been off duty had arrangedhanging places for their garments. Mabel had even put Nancy's pajamason the foot of her bunk, and her bedroom slippers were near by.

  "It's really going to be very comfy here," said Nancy when she came infrom a shower at the end of the hall. However, she found that Ida Hallwas already asleep.

  Nancy scarcely remembered getting into her double decker before she,also, was asleep. That was the beginning of a routine that lasted forseveral weeks; eight hours' work eight hours' sleep, eight hours foreating, bathing, washing clothes, and a bit of recreation.

  Even the southern hemisphere mid-winter which came in June had but aslight cooling effect on them, for they were too close to the equator.Nancy had been almost two months in Australia before she had her firstletters from home. There were a round dozen from her parents. Eagerlyshe climbed up under her mosquito bar to enjoy them.

  There was always the possibility that there might be news that Tommywas found. So many of their friends who had first been reported missinghad later returned. The fact that Miss Anna also had a hunch that Tommystill lived, had boosted Nancy's own belief that he would eventually bereturned to them.

  With her usual orderliness Nancy arranged the home letters according todate and opened the oldest first. Each letter was filled with bits ofnews of home and friends and encouraging words for herself. But sheread on and on without finding the longed-for news about Tommy. She hadjust picked up a letter from a friend when she heard Ida Hall exclaim,"Oh, say, there comes more work!"

  Nancy crawled down from her perch to look out the window and saw aconvoy rolling into the streets between the hospital buildings. Firstthere were trucks packed with the wounded who were able to sit up.These were followed by Red Cross ambulances loaded with the seriouslyill.

  "They'll more than fill the long tent they put up back of ward three,"Nancy predicted.

  She was right. They filled the tent to overflowing and some had to bepacked into the already crowded bun
galow wards. Nancy was now servingon night duty. Orders came before she went on that evening to reportfor duty in the tent where the new patients had been put.

  It was already dark when she took her G.I. flashlight, dimmed with bluepaper, and crossed the street behind the buildings to go to her newassignment. Bee Tarver, the nurse she was relieving, told her the menhad all been bathed, fed and their wounds looked after. Night duty waseasier of course, though Nancy sometimes had to struggle to keep awake.She was rather relieved to know there would be plenty to do tonight, asBee described the various cases.

  "Number three there may have to have another hypo. He's verydisturbed," she explained.

  Some would have to have sulpha tablets, and others must have attentionat regular intervals. One poor chap, who couldn't move, must have hisposition eased occasionally. Nancy went her rounds and toward midnightsat down at the end of the long tent, just inside the mosquito netting.This end of the tent was close to the bush, and the sounds of manystrange insects was like a pulse beat in the night. Once she heardplanes droning far off under the star-studded sky. Occasionally a groanescaped someone in the tent.

  Their new tent ward boasted no floor, and Nancy had to keep on thealert for frogs and insects that got under the netting in spite of alltheir precautions. She finally decided the creatures must come up fromthe earth.

  She had just caught a green frog in a small box and was taking him tothe door when there came a prolonged groan from cot three. She washedher hands in the basin near the door, and hurried to the patient, whohad been sleeping ever since she came in. The electric wiring had noteven been finished, so she picked up a lantern and hung it on the tentpost above the suffering patient.

  She turned around and was moving closer when the man on the bed liftedhis head and stared at her with wild eyes. Then a joyous expressionbroke over the gaunt face as he cried, "Tommy, old boy! I knew you'dget away from 'em."

  Nancy wore her seersucker trousers and shirt, and had her head tied ina kerchief, a precaution against the wind that blew eternally acrosstheir campsite.

  If the patient had fired a gun at her, however, she could not have beenmore shocked when he called her "Tommy!" Could he possibly mean herTommy, her own lost brother?

  When she recovered from the shock, she went nearer the bed. Thebrown-bearded man, his face haggard from suffering, fell back to thepillow in disappointment.

  "Aw-w," he groaned, "I thought sure you were Tommy."

  "Tommy?" she whispered softly, putting a soothing hand on his forehead,and brushing back the fever-wet hair. "Tommy who?"

  "Tommy Dale of course. Never another pilot like him."

  Nancy was so excited she scarcely knew what she was saying as sheasked, "You thought I was Tommy?"

  "I could have sworn those were Tommy's eyes. But maybe they did gethim. He made me jump first," the sick man rambled on. "But the planewas still in the air when I saw it last."

  "And Tommy was in it?" she encouraged him gently, fearing his memoriesmight be so fragile the least shock would shatter them.

  "Tommy would stick it till everybody was safely out." He broke off asthe feverish eyes came back to the brown ones bending over him. "Youreyes are enough like Tommy's to belong to him. But maybe I'm dying atlast and you're really Tommy come to see me over."

  "I'm Tommy's sister," she said with bated breath.

  He could only stare for a moment incredulously. "No, it can't be," hefinally burst forth. "Things like that don't happen."

  She pulled her dog tag from under her shirt, and held her flash so hecould read the inscription.

  "Glory be to the saints!" he burst forth, seizing her hand and pressingit to his lips.

  Nancy put her flashlight on the foot of the cot for she was trembling.She pulled a packing box closer to the man and sat down from sheerinability to stand.

  "Do you feel able to tell me what happened?" she asked.

  "Gosh yes," he said emphatically. "I can get well now! Who couldn'twith Tommy's sister for nurse? I know all about you," he said, his eyesbeginning to have a more normal expression. "Tommy read me all yourletters."

  "Oh, then you're Bruce Williams, his bombardier?"

  "Sure! We were real buddies, Tom and I. No crew ever had a finer pilot.He never gave me an order I didn't want to follow until that lastcommand to jump and leave him alone to his fate."

  "Do you think there's any chance he may be living?"

  "We were over Jap-held territory. If he survived the jump there're ninechances out of ten he's a prisoner."

  "But they didn't make you a prisoner!" she exclaimed.

  "Oh, yes, they did! Three long months they held me. That's why I'm inthis fix--I broke my leg in the parachute landing and it never healedproperly, and we were all but starved to death. I hoped many a timewhile I was a prisoner that Tommy was dead and out of such misery."

  "Oh, no, don't say that!" exclaimed Nancy, tears starting to her eyes."I've never felt that Tommy was dead. He must come back to us,sometime, somehow."

  Bruce closed his eyes wearily and turned from her a second. "I guessyou haven't seen enough, yet, Nancy. The ones who get a clean ticket tothe other side are the lucky blokes!"

  Nancy thought of the poem she had copied from Miss Anna Darien's book:

  "Were he dead, could I weep For one who gladly bore A cross that I might sleep In peace?"

  She took the sunburned hand lying on the sheet and stroked it gently.Tommy's friend brought her brother so much closer to her.

  "Did any more of Tommy's crew come through alive?"

  He shook his head. "Not that I know of. Two of us were picked up by aJap boat and taken to a prison camp. Pete Crawford died of his injuriesthree days after we got there."

  "I shouldn't let you talk any more," she said gently. "You must sleepnow."

  "I don't want to sleep. It's been so long since I talked to anyone whocared." He smiled diffidently, then apologized, "That may sound nervy."

  "Oh, I do care--you know I do! It's next best thing to finding Tommy,having you here!"

  "Thanks, Nancy. Thanks a lot--a fellow gets to feeling awful sorry forhimself when he's sick out here alone. Now it looks as if I've gotsomething to get well for."

  "But you won't get well unless you obey my orders and go to sleep," shesaid with playful severity, as she pulled the sheet up around his dampchest and tucked him in. He caught her hand again and pressed it to hislips before she turned away.

  There were a thousand questions she wanted to ask, but she dared nottax his frail strength further tonight. Tomorrow, after he had slept,she would ask him more about Tommy's last flight.

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