The Poppy Field: A gripping and emotional historical romance. Deborah Carr
again. “We need to bring his body temperature up, slowly, but surely,” she said to Mary. Alice knew her friend was as aware as she, what needed to be done for the patient, but could not help herself.
Mary gave her one of her, bugger-off-and-leave-me-to-get-on, looks. Alice took a deep breath. “Sorry, I’ll go to speak to Matron.”
She went to Matron’s office but couldn’t find her there. Alice assumed she was still frantically working with her nurses on the new patients. They all knew that the sooner the men were cleaned, settled and their records were taken, the sooner they could be given the correct treatment for their injuries and start to recover.
Alice was diverted from her ministrations by cries of pain emanating from the surgery tent. She shivered, imagining the surgeons battling to save lives. Slipping and almost falling on the wooden pathway, Alice righted herself and spotted Matron coming out of one of the furthest wards.
“What is it, Nurse Le Breton?” she said in hushed irritation. “Oughtn’t you be busy elsewhere?”
Indignant at the other woman’s accusatory tone, Alice had to contain herself from answering back. Her mother always criticised her for being too sure of herself.
“I was looking for you.” Alice explained.
“I can see that, but why?”
Alice explained about Captain Woodhall’s low body temperature. “He’s not responding much and seems very cold.”
Matron’s expression changed from one of annoyance, to concern. “I gather he was stranded overnight in No Man’s Land.” She glanced in the direction of the ward. “I’m surprised he survived,” she added, her voice lower, so as not to be overheard. “What with his injuries and the night being one of the coldest we’ve experienced for weeks.”
“He’s lucky he’s made it this far,” Alice said almost to herself.
“What was that, Nurse Le Breton?” Matron asked as they hurried to the ward.
“Only that he must be strong,” Alice said, without thinking.
“And lucky,” Matron said. “to be found by a casualty dog. It stayed with him until stretcher-bearers could reach him.”
Alice had heard about the dogs, who were trained to take medical supplies to injured soldiers. She recalled hearing a patient say how the dogs carried first aid packs to wounded soldiers on the battlefield and that if the soldier was unconscious, the dog would snuggle up keeping him warm.
The thought of Captain Woodhall being kept alive by a little dog brought a lump to Alice’s throat. There were so many cruel and unnecessary acts being performed every day. At times she wondered if she was ever going to feel real joy again. Discovering that a small dog could make the difference between life and death made her heart swell. It reminded her that every small, seemingly insignificant job she undertook helped one of these men.
“Now nurse, unless you have anything you wish to ask me, I suggest you return to the ward and keep a closer eye on Captain Woodhall. He must be observed at all times. Or, at least until his body temperature returns to within the normal parameters.”
“Yes, Matron.” Alice turned and hurried to the ward. It was a relief to find the captain sleeping and Mary checking his temperature.
“Don’t look so concerned,” Mary said, her voice barely above a whisper in the now relatively quiet tent. “He’s slowly warming up. I’ve put two extra blankets on him and Sister has just checked his vital signs.”
Alice drew up a stool and sat next to his bed. “Matron wants me to stay with him.”
“Then you’d better do as she wishes,” Sister Brown snapped.
Mary opened her mouth to speak, when a cry from another injured patient pierced the air. “I’ll go see to him,” she said and left Alice alone.
Alice watched the captain sleep. She could see his eyes moving under his closed eyelids. He must be dreaming, she thought. He looked so handsome now that the dust and caked blood had been washed from his face and his head wound freshly bandaged. She couldn’t help wondering if he was going to make it. She hoped so.
She didn’t think his head wound was too deep. She did, however, know from experience that it was deaths brought about through infection that came as more of a shock, especially when it had stemmed from a minor injury. Alice had been here a year and knew not to assume that those with lesser injuries would definitely survive. She had learned to expect the unexpected. It made sense not to allow herself to get too close to any of the patients, the heartache when they were discharged, or died, would be too hard to stand.
She felt the captain’s forehead with the back of her hand, and he sighed as her skin came in contact with his. Alice thought of the more severely injured patients she had been surprised to see make incredible recoveries, and how floored she had been by two seemingly healthy men dying unexpectedly on her shift. This was a place of miracles and heartache.
“How is he doing?” Matron asked a couple of hours later.
“He’s not very responsive. He’s been asleep most of the time.”
She watched Matron examine him. “We’ll do our best for him,” Matron said, making a note on the captain’s records. “I’m not holding much hope, I’m afraid,” she whispered so quietly that Alice barely heard what she said.
She studied the captain’s tanned face, his lashes fanned on his scratched cheek. She willed him to survive. Surely, he must have a wife, or sweetheart waiting to hear from him back in England somewhere?
“I’ll send someone to take over from you,” Matron said, resting a cool hand on Alice’s shoulder.
“I’m fine, Matron,” she said, not ready to leave him. “I don’t mind staying.”
“You’ve been here long enough,” the older woman said quietly. Her voice didn’t invite argument. “We must take care not to become attached to any of the patients, Nurse Le Breton. However handsome they might be.”
Alice went to argue but thought the better of it. “Yes, Matron,” she said, mortified. Had her thoughts about the captain been that obvious, she wondered?
Gemma
2018
Gemma finished reading the note about Captain Woodhall on the back of Alice’s letter. Alice seemed to be developing a soft spot for him and Gemma couldn’t help hoping he survived. Knowing what she did about his condition, she couldn’t help fearing the worst for the poor Captain, especially as the nursing staff at the casualty clearing station must have been pushed to their limits. How did they find the time to focus on the more fragile patients?
It had been a bonus to discover the extra snippets on the back of most of the letters, written in Alice’s rounded script. The added insight into Alice’s day intrigued Gemma. They were both nurses, albeit Gemma was highly trained, and Alice had only received three months’ worth of training. However, the experiences Alice endured during her time assisting on the wards was something no training could ever hope to prepare someone for, Gemma was certain of that much.
She wondered how different it must have been to deal with the constant arrival of horribly damaged men. She thought the trauma unit to be busy if there were a dozen patients arriving at once and that didn’t happen too often, she thought. Gemma couldn’t imagine how shocking it must have been for Alice to nurse those poor soldiers. Gemma had seen old film footage that gave her an idea of the devastation to life during and after a battle. But would Alice have known what she was letting herself in for when she’d registered for her training? Gemma doubted it.
The notes referred mostly to someone called Ed, and Gemma presumed Alice must be referring to the injured Captain,