THEY ALL HELD their breaths, waiting near the narrow side entrance for the rest of their comrades to make it safely across into the College of Surgeons. Some of their own snipers went up to the roof to try to provide some cover for them.
Nellie worried how Michael Mallin, James O’Shea and a few others would get across when the enemy were concentrating all their fire on the building. As the bullets hit the granite they had to shut the door. Outside, the mob of supplementary women were still set on preventing them gaining entry to the college.
‘The army will have you.’
‘Traitors!’
Suddenly Commandant Mallin and the last of his men banged at the side door, Captain McCormick with blood flowing from his head as they managed to drag him inside. Madeleine and Rosie rushed forward straight away to help him.
‘All men up on the roof,’ ordered Mallin, barely looking around. He was convinced the enemy would now mount a full-scale attack on the medical college.
Nellie was struck by an awful smell that permeated the area as they pushed into the nearby anatomy room. The long, bright room, with its tall windows and high ceiling, was laid out with table after table for the medical students. Nellie’s stomach lurched at the strange, sickly-sweet smell. Around them jars filled with thick fluid containing various parts of the human body filled her with disgust, and there were large, detailed, coloured-wax figures of the human anatomy minus skin, which were terrifying.
‘The smell is formaldehyde,’ explained Madeleine. ‘They use it for preserving bodies.’
‘Ugh!’ grimaced Nellie, Rosie and the other women, feeling nauseous.
‘And don’t go near the end of the room, for I think there is a cadaver stored on ice that the students use to practise their skills.’
Passing through the large entrance hall of the college, the towering statue of William Dease, the founder of the college and its first professor of surgery, stared down at them, and other busts of famous medical men looked on benignly as the college was transformed into a garrison for the Irish Republican Army. The heavy front of the building was now locked and heavily barricaded. Countess Markievicz and Frank Robbins had managed to gain access when the porter, Mr Duncan, who had already locked up the building against them, opened the door a fraction to warn an elderly professor that the college was shut. She and two scouts had seized the opportunity, managing to force their way into the building by threatening to shoot the porter.
They swiftly blocked up the windows of the entrance hall with piles of heavy books and medical tomes before moving upstairs and quickly searching through the building. Some of the men crouched down on their knees, their rifles at the ready, in front of the tall windows of the big council room, which stretched across the front of the building. It gave them a clear view not only of the park but of the Shelbourne Hotel, the position of their enemy.
Off this room was the college hall, which was used for lectures and classes. Commandant Mallin declared that it would serve as the men’s quarters, as it was a spacious, high-ceilinged room with circular glass skylights but not as exposed as some others. A canvas screen used by the tutors hung near the back of the hall, dividing the room, and Madeleine chose the far side of it as a makeshift first aid hospital area. All the windows around them were barricaded, using desks, books, wooden benches and shelves.
Searching down in the basement they discovered only a small kitchen, the larder shelves almost bare, for the college and its students were on holidays. Nellie explored further, finding a large classroom with an open grate which could be used for cooking.
The porter, his wife and child had been imprisoned in a bedroom in their living quarters, the rest of the porter’s accommodation commandeered for use as the women’s sleeping quarters. Nellie found sugar, a little flour, tea, a big drum of porridge oats and a few large tins of cocoa powder – provisions that she suspected were for the college porter or staff.
‘There’s no food here. What will we do?’ Lily asked, dismayed.
‘We have some bread from yesterday and most people still have some rations left. Let’s fill these big kettles with water and set them to boil. At least we can make some tea and cocoa for everyone and use these two big pots to make some porridge.’
‘We’ll need to get food supplies somewhere tomorrow,’ said Kathleen, sounding worried.
The constant noise of gunfire and shelling went on and on without any reprieves or lull as the Vickers heavy machine gun and the one on the roof of the United Services Club rapidly spat out hundreds of rounds of ammunition. The sound filled their heads and unnerved them. Up on the roof their snipers, armed with only simple rifles, were busy returning fire all through the day. Margaret had gone up on the roof with them, hiding in a hole and taking careful aim as she calmly targeted the army snipers; she took a few of them out. The din was horrendous as bullets rained down and across at them. One of their men, Mick, was badly hit in the face and had to be lifted gingerly down from the roof, which was very dangerous. Bill Partridge too was injured and they bandaged up his head. Then one of their guns accidentally went off and shot one of their men in the eye. Madeleine, afraid that he would die, insisted he be taken to the nearby hospital.
Everyone was worn out, but there was no chance to rest or take a break. Nellie knew that they would have to be fed, so she and Mary set about making up two huge pots of porridge, cooking them over the grate in the classroom as she and the other women prepared to feed their hungry garrison.
‘We’re parched up there on the roof, with the heat of the guns,’ reported one of their snipers who’d come down to the kitchen to get water as all their own water bottles were empty. Nellie helped him to refill them while he told her about how intense the fighting and din and smoke were up on the narrow roof.
At last, as it got darker, the enemy firing eased off, both sides exhausted.
‘They’re servicing the machine guns, getting ready for tomorrow’s attack,’ Commandant Mallin stated, ordering most of his own men to take a rest.
In the hall Nellie and the other women served bowls of piping-hot porridge laced with sugar, along with mugs of hot cocoa and tea to the men, making them sit and rest for a while.
‘That’s the best porridge I’ve ever had,’ declared a pale-faced young man, his eyes red-rimmed with lack of sleep as he licked his bowl clean.
‘Well, you deserve it,’ Nellie told him with a smile, wishing that she’d had a little milk or cream to add to it.
Commandant Mallin, a true soldier, had in his usual organized army fashion set up duty rosters, insisting that some of the men rest before going back on duty in the middle of the night.
‘Falling asleep with a rifle up on the roof is not an option,’ he warned. His army training meant that he always kept discipline, making it clear to all of them that he would not tolerate sloppiness or disorder in his garrison.
Nellie’s eyes were feeling heavy, and once they had collected and washed up all the bowls and cups she was determined tonight to try to get a little sleep herself.