‘Nurse! Come quickly!’
Celia glanced around her and, seeing that the other nurses were being kept busy by a new influx of prisoners, she quickly pushed the shards of broken glass she’d been sweeping so that they were out of the way and rested the broom handle against the wall above them.
‘Coming, Doctor Burton,’ she replied, rushing up to him to see what she could do to help. She concentrated on keeping her expression neutral, as she always did when going to new patients who had just arrived.
‘Fetch me hot water, cloths and a couple of dressings, and hurry.’
Celia saw that the patient’s face was mostly covered with a bloodied bandage and dreaded to think of the mess underneath, but knew from experience that her reaction mattered greatly and that the men, or at least those who could see her face, gauged a lot about their situation from her reaction. She fetched everything the doctor needed and was back at his side less than a minute later.
‘Here you are, Doctor,’ she said, placing everything he had asked for onto a nearby trolley.
‘Good. Right, hold that bowl here while I remove this.’ He took a pair of scissors and began carefully cutting away at the sodden bandage, then took tweezers and slowly lifted the mucky dressing from the soldier’s face. ‘What’s your name, son?’
The man gave his name and it occurred to her that he was probably the same age as the doctor.
Celia soothed the man as he cried out, pleading with the doctor to stop what he was doing.
‘We have to remove this,’ Doctor Burton explained softly. ‘You don’t want an infection in the wound. I promise I’m going as gently and as quickly as I possibly can.’
Celia understood enough German to know the patient was complaining that he was in pain.
‘You’re in the best hands,’ Celia said, calmly taking the soldier’s hand in hers. ‘You’ll soon have a new dressing on and will feel much better.’ She hoped she was right. Celia knew that some of the doctors expected the nurses to stand silently as they worked, but Doctor Burton didn’t mind them trying to soothe the patients. Medical staff and prisoners might not speak the same language, but the tone of a voice went a long way to defuse panic.
As the wound was exposed, Celia saw that the man had pretty much lost one of his ears and had a deep cut across his cheek. She knew the doctors here did their best and some of the results were incredible as far as she was concerned, but she had no idea how anyone was going to fix this poor man’s face.
The patient went to raise his hand to his face but Celia stopped him.
‘Touching a wound with a dirty hand is the worst way to go about it,’ Doctor Burton said. ‘I won’t be much longer and then we can have a fresh dressing on this and get you into theatre to fix you up a bit. You’ll feel much better after that.’
The soldier stared at the doctor, then at Celia with wide, fearful eyes.
Celia hated to see how petrified he was. She wasn’t surprised, though. If it was still shocking for her to see these badly injured men after months of dealing with them, how frightening and painful must it be for them to actually be this badly wounded?
‘Maybe if he hadn’t tried to escape he wouldn’t be in this mess,’ the doctor mumbled. ‘Silly sod tried to throw himself over the side of the boat, and when he was grabbed and pulled back his face was damaged.’ He shook his head in frustration. ‘Did he really think he could simply swim away?’
Celia doubted the poor chap was thinking clearly at all. She watched the doctor working in silence.
‘I’m going to leave you in the capable hands of Nurse Robertson here,’ the doctor said, turning to address Celia. ‘Nurse, please clean this man up.’ He took a few steps away from the bed and lowered his voice. ‘Don’t give him any fluids or food. I’m going to go and see if I can have him fitted into one of the theatres.’
‘Yes, Doctor.’
She returned to the bed. ‘I’m going to fetch some warm soapy water and then we can get you cleaned up. You’ll feel much better when you’re in a warm, dry bed.’
‘Thank you,’ he said through gritted teeth.
Celia suspected he either had no idea how badly damaged his face was, or that he was incredibly brave and wanted to be as positive as possible. ‘Yes, and later you’ll be able to have a hot meal and a nice cup of cocoa.’
He tried to smile and she wished she hadn’t tried to cheer him up when he winced and tears ran down his cheek from the pain smiling had caused him. She picked up his discarded wet uniform and headed towards the laundry.
‘I’ll take those from you,’ one of the other nurses said, reaching out and taking hold of the bundle in Celia’s arms. ‘Doctor Burton is calling for you.’
‘He is?’ Celia asked, surprised. ‘Do you know where I’ll find him?’
‘Yes. You must have just missed him.’ She groaned under the weight of the sodden material in her hands. ‘He’s in the ward with a patient he’s wanting to operate on straight away. A facial wound, he said.’
Celia thanked the nurse and immediately rushed back to the ward to speak to the doctor.
‘Yes, Doctor?
‘I’d like you to prep the new patient and arrange for the orderlies to bring him to the theatre in twenty minutes, please. Accompany him, if you will.’
‘Of course, Doctor.’
She waved an orderly over from the other side of the ward, then indicated that she needed two of them to carry the patient. She had no idea how long the surgery would take but the most important thing right then was to reassure the patient. He’d soon be under anaesthetic and wouldn’t have any idea how long he would be unconscious.
* * *
Later that evening Celia had almost finished her shift when she decided to check on Otto and the newcomer from Christmas Eve.
‘How’s the young chap doing, do you think?’ she asked Otto, glancing over at the soldier who had been in the fight.
‘He will be fine,’ Otto reassured her. ‘I went to speak to the men involved and warned them that they would have to face me if they ever touched that young man again. I think there will no longer be any trouble from them.’
She was grateful to him for intervening and hoped he was right. Then again, Celia thought, as sweet as Otto was to her, his tall stature was imposing and she didn’t like to think how that dear face of his might appear if his expression wasn’t the one of love that he used when looking at her. She imagined he could be quite fierce when he needed to be.
‘That cheers me up. Thank you.’
‘It was my pleasure. I hate bullying of any kind and will not stand for it from my own countrymen.’
She thought of his fellow soldiers and some of the stories she had heard, aware that they could easily be propaganda and hoped that they were. Otto was a decent man and it was difficult to think of him as being the enemy. Even those pilots who had killed her parents and brother had been following orders, hadn’t they?
When she was satisfied that the young patient was sleeping peacefully, she turned to leave and saw Sister watching her. When Celia went to ask if there was anything she wanted her to do, Sister gave her an approving nod.
‘Well done, Nurse Robertson,’ she said quietly as Celia reached her by the door. ‘I’m told by the doctor that you were a great help to him today.’
‘Thank you, Sister. I enjoyed helping in theatre.’
Sister walked over to check on the soldier. ‘That poor boy will need his spirits kept up as much as possible. He’s got a long road ahead of him before he’ll be anywhere near recovered enough to leave.’
Celia left the ward saddened to think that such a young boy had already lost so much. She was grateful he didn’t know it quite yet and hoped his body and mind would have a chance to rest and recover.