A beat of silence stretched between them until Adele broke it. “Well, we’ll miss you when you’re gone.”
Minnie winked. “I’ll bring back souvenirs for everyone. Even the matron.”
With a chuckle, Adele stubbed out her cigarette and returned to her letter.
Would you please thank Madame Fournier for the generous gift of twenty (!) pairs of socks? When they arrived, I sent them directly to the dressing station via ambulance, and from there, they were distributed to the fighting men in the trenches. You have no idea how grateful they are for what we used to consider small kindnesses. How the war has changed us all.
Did I tell you—
“Do you hear that?” Hazel whispered.
They froze, their eyes rolling to the ceiling of the tent. A low, buzzing sound in the distance was building rapidly, just like the adrenaline rushing through Adele.
“Helmets!” Minnie ordered, abandoning her cards.
They dove under their beds’ metal frames, grabbing helmets and wrapping blankets around them as shields. Across from her, Adele saw the slight flick of the General’s tail, held tight in Minnie’s arms. When a shriek pierced the air, Adele curled up as small as she could, hands over her ears, then the first bomb dropped, shaking the earth beneath her.
A moment later she felt Lillian prodding her arm. “Come on. We have to go.”
Adele pried herself off the floor and joined the others. In their nightdresses and helmets, they ran toward the hospital tent, lit by a few glowing lanterns. The first time they had been attacked was in France two years earlier, and it had felt counterintuitive to dash into the night as madness rained down. It still did, but it was easier now.
Above them, Adele saw the lights of incoming planes beaming through the night sky, and she willed her legs to run faster. More than four hundred wounded men lay in the hospital tent, helpless and vulnerable inside such a huge target. She had to get to her patients. Another deafening explosion rocked the camp, much closer to the hospital this time, making Adele’s pulse skip. She shuffled to the side, letting a couple of stretcher-bearers past, then ran to catch up to her friends.
Nurse Johnson stood by the hospital entrance, a stalwart, solid presence amid chaos. Beyond her, a blur of blue gowns and white coats rushed from one bed to the next.
“You know the drill, ladies. The hospital is too easy to spot from the sky. We must move all the patients,” the matron bellowed over the noise. As commanding and in control as she appeared, Adele noticed her hands were shaking. “Take the most seriously wounded to our personal barracks. Any who can bear it can be temporarily stationed within the trees.”
“The trees?” Hazel exclaimed.
“Orderlies are setting up tents as we stand here, wasting time. Now, you must get—”
A blast hit near one corner of the hospital, crashing into the earth so hard they all swayed sideways and grabbed at each other for balance. Dirt and medical supplies blasted into the air and vanished into thick black smoke, and a shrill ringing pierced Adele’s ears, blocking out all other sounds. People’s mouths were moving, but she could make nothing of what they were saying. She opened her mouth wide, trying to clear her ears. When at last words started to take shape, they felt thick, buried in mud.
“Get to your stations!” Nurse Johnson yelled, breaking through. “Now! Watch those coal heaters. We don’t want the whole place to go up in flames.”
The hospital was more crowded and hectic than it had ever been, and the hot summer air reeked of fear and cordite. Squeezing past staff and patients, Adele wove her way to the back of the tent and the men for whom she was responsible. Overhead, the shelling continued, and she ducked reflexively, but other than the corner that had initially been hit, the tent remained undamaged so far. She took heart as she neared her section and saw the dark shapes of the men, their various appendages wrapped in bandages. A few were out of their beds, trying to help each other. Just then, Sergeant Taylor staggered toward her, his face contorted with panic. He’d been there a few weeks, recovering from a terrible injuryto his back, but she’d known from the beginning that most of Sergeant Taylor’s pain came from deeper within.Shell shock, the doctors called it.
“Take cover! Take cover! Take cover!” he cried.
She grabbed his arms. “Sergeant Taylor!”
He struggled to get loose, not recognizing her—in his mind he was in No Man’s Land, the mud sucking at his boots as he sought shelter.
“Sergeant Taylor!” she shouted, gripping him more tightly. “It’s me, Sister Adele.”
He didn’t appear to hear her, and he squirmed out of her grasp. Relief rushed through her at the sight of burly Sergeant Hatch, one of the unit’s dentists, returning from outside.
“Sergeant! I need help!”
He was at her side immediately, reassuring Sergeant Taylor as he led him toward the exit. Adele had no time to watch them leave.
“Help me? Help me, please, Sister?” a voice called.
Adele turned to see Corporal Brown, leaning back on his elbows, terror cutting deep lines into his young face. The eighteen-year-old had already lost one leg, and the doctors were unsure if they could salvage the other. He was utterly defenseless.
“Of course, Corporal. Let me just see to you first. Your leg—”
“It’s all right. Please, please just get me out of here.”
