POSH…I hadn’t thought of that in ages. It stood for Port side Out, Starboard side Home. The best cabins, the cooler ones, were on the port side of a vessel traveling out to India, and on the starboard side coming home. And still there were nights when not a breath of air stirred, and if the ship hadn’t been moving, we’d all have surely died of heat exhaustion.
The image of a dark ship on a dark sea faded, abandoning me too. I came back to the present, unable to escape for very long.
My arm had settled into a dull, constant ache as long as I kept it close to my body and braced. I think all of us were feeling the exhaustion of the last hours. God knew, after what we’d been through, it wasn’t surprising.
Then suddenly I was awake again, overheated in the full strength of the sun, and thirsty. I wanted to dip my hands in the cool water surrounding us and bathe my face. But I knew better. Not only would it dry my skin more, but it would also make it burn and blister.
People were sleeping for a few minutes at a time as I’d done, or staring out to sea without actually seeing it. No one seemed inclined to talk now. I wondered what memories they were chasing, and if theirs had succeeded better than mine. I turned my head to look forward, at the officer. He was anxiously scanning the horizon. The ratings were trying to keep us on course with the other boats, but I didn’t think we were making much progress toward Kea. I looked around and found that several of the boats had even drifted away. The rhythmic slap of the waves against the sides of ours was the only sound.
Surely Kea was farther away than before? It had looked closer from the decks of Britannic. Hadn’t it? I couldn’t be sure.
Where I was sitting, my back had very little support, and soon it began to ache in concert with my arm, in spite of my sling. I straightened, trying to ease both. Why had the mast on the ship from India seemed comfortable, and here there was no comfort to be had?
Barbara, stretching, turned to me and said, “The arm hurts, I daresay. But from the looks of it, this isn’t the best place to try and set it.”
“A little, yes,” I answered, managing a smile. “But nothing like what Eileen must be feeling.”
“More than a little. I broke my arm when I was twelve, falling out of the apple tree while trying to emulate my brothers. As for Eileen-” She shrugged expressively.
“Yes.” If we weren’t found soon, if she didn’t have proper care…
“We were lucky,” Barbara went on, as if to convince herself. “We got off, and no one in this boat was terribly hurt.” She glanced down at Eileen. “Except of course for her. We’ll have to bathe her legs in seawater again soon, to keep the wounds from suppurating. It’ll have to do.”
I knew what was in Barbara’s mind. The Irish girl might survive, but she could lose one or both legs to infection.
Barbara was older than most of us, an experienced nursing sister before the war had begun in 1914. She had told me once that her family had been horrified when she decided to train as a nurse. Now, with the war on, it was socially acceptable to tend the wounded. But not then, not a woman of her class, not in 1905.
With a sigh I leaned back as best I could, still trying to find comfort for my spine. The life belt was cumbersome and very little help.
One of the nursing sisters moved a little, as uncomfortable as I was. “We will be rescued, won’t we?”
“Of course we will,” I answered to cut off the rising fear in the girl’s voice. “There must be shipping, fishing boats-”
Barbara added, “There are so many of us. If a ship finds one lifeboat, it will begin to search for others. If you must worry, ask yourself how we are to get home, with no Britannic to carry us to England.”
A very good question. Her words turned all of our thoughts from rescue to passage back.
Lucy said, “They’re chronically short of nurses. That’s in our favor.”
“I’d rather not be sent to Egypt,” Margaret put in. “I hear hospitals there are appalling.”
Most of us understood appalling conditions. We’d worked in them, more often than not. “Egypt is no worse than the others,” I said.
Fishing boats out of Kea began to appear over the empty horizon. A cheer went up. After what seemed to be an eternity, the first one arrived on the scene, and then others, spread out behind it. Watching them move past us, I realized that there were people bobbing in the water, even though from our position we couldn’t see them, and the boats went first to pull them out. But there wasn’t much space on the little craft, and so they couldn’t manage taking any of us from the lifeboats.
While we were watching them turn back for Kea, wondering how long it would be before we saw them again, HMS Scourge steamed into view and began to pick up survivors.
Our boat wasn’t one of them. But Scourge was followed soon enough by HMS Heroic, which seemed to tower over us as she came up.
The worst of the wounded, including Eileen, were sent by motor launch to Korissia, the port on Kea. We were taken aboard, climbing the ladder if we could or waiting our turn on the sling if not.
From Heroic’s deck, I watched our progress in, the mountainous interior growing higher, the numerous small coves and bays giving the shore a ragged outline. What sort of medical care would we find here? I wished I had two good arms. It rankled that I was a burden. There were enough injured without me.
“We’re forty nautical miles from Piraeus,” one of the officers said reassuringly, as if he’d read my thoughts. “You’ll be all right.”
The doctors and nurses already landed there had begun working frantically to save the most critical cases, making use of whatever they could collect among themselves to bind up the severest wounds, some including loss of limbs. Supplies were being off-loaded from the naval vessels now, and that was a blessing. I was a little unsteady when I got to shore but went directly to do what I could to help. Then someone noticed my swollen hand, discovered it came from a broken arm, and ordered me to step aside.
“We’ve enough nurses,” Dr. Paterson told me. “I’ll see to you directly. Meanwhile, there’s a little shade over there. And Eileen could use the company. She’s awake now. We’ve given her something for her pain, thanks to Heroic.”
Silently cursing my uselessness, I did as I was told, pausing to speak to a pair of ratings lying on blankets and to the nurse with the bandaged head before sitting down by the Irish girl.
Eileen recognized me and said, shakily, “Well, we’re alive. It counts, doesn’t it?”
I smiled. “I should say it does.”
“I made such a fool of myself, didn’t I?” she added after a moment.
“I don’t think there’s any way we can predict how we’ll behave in an emergency until we’re there,” I answered judiciously.
“You didn’t panic.”
“My ancestors were battle-hardened soldiers. I wouldn’t dare panic,” I said lightly. “They’d rise up from their graves in horror.”
That brought a flicker of amusement, quickly gone. “I’ve never been hurt before. Not like this. It’s odd, you know. To be one of the wounded.”
“I was just thinking the same thing myself, not half an hour ago.”
“I’m not enjoying the experience.” There was a pause. “Will I lose my legs, do you think? Dr. Menzies wouldn’t answer me when I asked.”
“I doubt it. He’s always been the cautious one, you know.”