The German Nurse. M.J. Hollows
trying to make sure that there is no panic, Constable,’ a voice said from behind him. He turned to see a middle-aged man, dressed in a cheap brown suit. The man smiled at Jack, but like his own it lacked certainty. ‘As you can imagine,’ he continued, ‘it’s an uphill struggle. It’s why we’re making sure the parents say their goodbyes at the gate.’
He reached out a hand and Jack returned the gesture, receiving a vigorous shake. Jack was taken aback somewhat by the friendliness of the man. He remembered teachers as being sterner and more distant, and the usual reaction to the uniform was wariness.
‘An unenviable task, Headmaster,’ Jack said, nodding. ‘Times are difficult, and we can only do our best.’
‘Wise words, for a young man. If you don’t mind me saying?’
Jack shook his head. It was always nice to receive a compliment, and his teachers had never been that complimentary when he was in school. He didn’t feel that wise. ‘Thank you, but I’m just here to do my job.’
‘Of course. These children need escorting down to the harbour.’ He looked at his wristwatch. ‘The boats will be arriving soon and they won’t have long to get everyone on board. The longer we wait the less chance we have of getting them over to England.’
‘The boats will have to wait until they’re full. We won’t let them leave before they’re ready.’
‘Good luck with that. I’m sure the captains won’t want to wait around too long. Who knows when the Germans will come?’
Jack noted that he had said, ‘when’, not ‘if’.
A teacher looked over at the sound of their raised voices. She was kneeling down to talk to a child, and a frown crossed her face. The headmaster gestured for Jack to step back out into the reception. The early summer morning heat was coming in the front doors. ‘There are buses outside to take the children. We will organise them all, but I would appreciate it if you could escort them.’
‘Of course,’ Jack replied.
Outside the school a number of buses waited, silhouettes in the early morning gloom. The drivers stood by one cab, smoking cigarettes and chatting. A few minutes later the children appeared at the front of the school, in a line two abreast. The headmaster led them from the front, and it reminded Jack of the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin his grandfather had once told him when he was little. The concept of some mysterious figure leading an entire village of children off into the unknown had terrified him ever since.
The children were well behaved as they boarded the buses, either shocked into obedience by events, or encouraged by the teachers and attendant parents. Thankfully, the majority of the children had yet to work out exactly what was happening. That would not last forever. It took some time, but it was going more smoothly than Jack had expected.
*
The harbour was awash with activity. Men shouted orders at each other and soldiers rushed from one area to another making sure that everything was in place. The air stank of brine and salt, fish mingled with the sweat of those at work. Not everyone in the harbour was wearing army-issue khaki, as various merchant ships were either returning from fishing trips or preparing to leave for Britain. The sun had risen above the horizon and lit the scene in its warm glow, making the work that little bit harder for everyone.
As the children climbed off the buses, volunteers attached brown labels to their lapels and led them towards the boats. They were getting more nervous as the strange situation dragged on, young murmurings of concern growing louder. Some mothers had gone against the states’ orders and come to the harbour to see their children off, unable to stay away. Mothers’ tears added to the already salty sea air, and those children who were more aware than others cried, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t be put on those horrible little boats that rocked against the tide.
There were queues forming at the ends of the piers, and people shuffled with impatience, waiting for the order to board. Some were being turned away as Jack went to join his colleagues. Whole families sat together on the ground, belongings piled up around them in the sweltering heat. Some had discarded their cars, unable to take them with them. None of them were sure that they would be allowed to leave, and it was clear on their faces.
Not everyone in the harbour was looking for a way to escape. Some were saying goodbye to loved ones who were going with the army, and Jack caught a glimpse of Beth as she said goodbye to her brother, who had been in the militia. Even though he was Jack’s age, Jack knew his sister much better. They had fallen into the same friendship group, and she had always enjoyed bossing him around. On any other day he may have waved and beckoned her over, but not today.
A man propped his bicycle against a nearby wall and walked back up the road, a roll of paper tied up with string in his hand. He disappeared around the corner of a building, heading in the direction of the town hall. Nearby a couple were saying goodbye, pulling close together as the husband looked to board a nearby boat. The man played his hand through the ringlets of her curly brown hair, as he kissed her goodbye, his other hand resting on the hem of her pleated skirt, lingering longer than was strictly appropriate.
Jack longed to pull Johanna into a similar embrace, but he didn’t know when they would get the chance to be alone. They should have been boarding a boat of their own, if only Johanna had been able to leave too. Deep brown eyes bore into his, wide with surprise, and he realised he was staring.
Jack yawned and thought about how much more tired he would be by the time all of this was done. He would sleep the sleep of the dead later. For now, he forced himself forward, one foot after the other.
A couple of his colleagues were manoeuvring a wooden barricade into place along the end of the pier. One of them, an older man, PC Frank Baker, was struggling to lift the crossbeam into the groove cut in a leg, and Jack rushed to help him. ‘Thanks,’ Frank said as they wrestled the beam into place, and he stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow. ‘This probably won’t help much if this lot get rowdy.’ He threw a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the growing queue. ‘But at least it will make them think twice.’
A man walked past them, carrying three overfilled rucksacks and visibly sweating in the heat. ‘There’s no way he’s getting that lot on a boat,’ Jack said, looking over at his other colleague, Sergeant Honfleur, who nodded and grumbled.
‘Glad you could join us, Godwin. You can man this barricade while we take a break.’
There was a loud crack as a wooden crate was dropped to the ground by two khaki-clad soldiers. Neither of them flinched. The navy’s boats bobbed gently in their moorings as the materiel was taken on board. That both the army and the children were being evacuated at the same time was causing havoc with the harbour, and the men in khaki moved freely past the cordons the police had set up. Jack could see some of the civilians edging closer, looking to take advantage of the lapse.
A soldier with three chevrons stitched on to his sleeve stopped, put down a crate and used the break to stretch his back. He looked over at Jack and nodded. ‘Good thing the weather is calm,’ he said, his accent not from the islands. ‘Or the trip to the mainland with this lot would be hell.’
‘That’s true, but they’ll want to hurry up. They’re getting in the way of the evacuation.’
The sergeant nodded. ‘Aye, but it’s not easy mobilising an army, my friend. Especially across the sea. We’ve got a lot to get on board that there navy ship out in the bay.’
‘They must have known this was coming. You could at least leave us something.’
‘Hah, don’t assume anything. We were caught napping during the last war too. Chamberlain didn’t fancy a fight, but now ol’ Churchill’s in charge. And no can do, friend.’ He patted the crate he had been carrying. ‘Can’t leave anything behind that we may need. It’s for your own good. If the Hun do come, you’ll be best off if they think you’re completely unarmed. I know it’s not easy to hear, but that’s how it is.’
‘You’re