Celia leaned against the doorway of the canteen, nursing a warm cup of tea as she stared out at the dismal view. At least the sun was shining, she thought, taking a sip. She wondered how Phoebe’s Christmas had been and hoped that her sister was keeping well.
She was tired and wasn’t sure if it was the constant attempt to keep up with her work or if she, like some of the prisoners, was finding it difficult spending most of her waking time behind barbed wire. Working in a prisoner-of-war camp wasn’t something she had ever imagined herself doing and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could bear being here. Celia knew it was only the thought of spending what little time she could in Otto’s presence that helped keep her going.
They had been alerted to the prospect of more prisoners being brought to the camp in the next few days, but she had no idea how they would fit them in, as even the hospital wards were full. More of the men were succumbing to bronchitis and coughs, and Celia wasn’t sure if it was simply because of the damp and cold of winter they were experiencing, or if the men’s state of mind had something to do with their low immunity. They might have access to entertainment and a good standard of living for prisoners, but they were still prisoners. If she found it difficult at times to be working here, then how did they feel, being forced to live so far from their homelands and loved ones?
‘Not on duty yet?’ Elsie asked, coming up to join her in the canteen.
‘I’m due to begin in ten minutes,’ Celia replied. She wished Elsie would leave her alone, but she was aware that she needed to keep on the other woman’s good side, if indeed she had one. ‘How about you?’
‘Just finished.’ Elsie pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘It’s been an arduous shift this time.’
‘Aren’t they all?’ Celia asked, barely able to contain her sarcasm.
‘This one was particularly stressful.’
Celia sensed that Elsie wanted her to ask why, so did. ‘Why, did something happen?’
Elsie sighed. ‘That young unteroffizier died.’
‘Pardon?’ Celia had experienced many patients dying, but she had only seen the young soldier the previous day and although his facial wound was bad, it wasn’t meant to be life-threatening, and the doctor hadn’t mentioned any infection being present. ‘But how? What happened?’
‘We don’t know for certain, but the doctor suspects his heart gave out under the stress of what he’s gone through,’ Elsie explained, sounding, Celia noticed, more upset than was usual. ‘It was truly shocking, Celia. I hate to admit it, but my reaction to seeing him die wasn’t as professional as I would have liked. I almost made a show of myself with one of the other nurses, which isn’t like me.’
Celia struggled to imagine Elsie having any feelings for anyone other than herself. She had never seen her seem upset, or even happy before now, other than when she’d spoken of her brother.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘What, that I made a show of myself?’ There was the antagonistic side of Elsie that Celia recognised so well.
‘No,’ Celia said pointedly. ‘That the poor chap died.’
‘I see.’ Elsie stood and, leaving her plate and mug, stared blankly at Celia. ‘I’m going to go back to my quarters. I’ll leave you to take my crockery, if that’s all right?’
Celia nodded. ‘Yes.’ She watched Elsie leave, shoulders hunched. She knew she should feel more compassion for the woman, but all Celia felt at that moment was relief that she could finish her meal in peace without everything she said or did being scrutinised.
‘What’s up with ’er, then?’ one of the orderlies asked from further into the room where he was eating his breakfast.
‘One of her patients died unexpectedly,’ Celia said. ‘She’s a little upset.’
‘Not like ’er to feel anything for one of these blokes.’
He looked confused and Celia wasn’t surprised. ‘I was thinking the same thing,’ she replied, then regretted her own honesty. ‘I shouldn’t say such things, that was mean.’
‘About anyone else it might be, but not ’er. I wouldn’t feel too badly, she wouldn’t feel a thing for you.’
Another of the nurses sighed. ‘Some of them take you that way, don’t they?’
Celia sighed. Somewhere in Germany was a mother who had yet to hear the news that her young son had died. It broke Celia’s heart and she realised why she was feeling so down. It wasn’t the weather or working behind bars – it was the proximity to death and the loss that never seemed to be far away these days. She wondered when life would brighten again. It couldn’t come soon enough, as far as she was concerned.
Her appetite lost, Celia carried her and Elsie’s plates and mugs over to the end of the counter where they left the dirty crockery.
She began walking to the ward, wishing that she didn’t have to go there straight away and could instead take some time to come to terms with the news Elsie had just imparted.
‘Poor boy,’ she said, shaking her head and willing herself not to cry.
One of the British guards heard her speaking to herself and gave her a knowing look. All of them at the hospital understood the pain of losing a patient, especially when it wasn’t expected.
She arrived at the ward and, after taking a steadying breath, walked in. Her eyes automatically went to the unteroffizier’s bed where a new patient now lay sleeping. How could she feel so much loss for a man she had barely known? It didn’t make much sense, but then neither did this relentless war, she mused as she reported to Sister’s desk.
‘Ahh, Nurse Robertson,’ she said, looking up from where she had been writing her notes. ‘I’m afraid we’ve had rather a night of it here.’
‘I heard, Sister. Such sad news.’
‘Indeed.’ Sister shook her head slowly. ‘An unexpected loss, too.’
Celia wanted to ask if they knew exactly what had happened, but knew that Sister didn’t appreciate nosiness.
‘I want you to help pack up his belongings, what little there were of them, and take them to the office for processing.’
‘Yes, Sister,’ Celia said, aware how unfeeling Sister might sound to someone passing. She knew now, though, that Sister felt just as deeply as she and Elsie for the men under her care, and presumed she had learnt to deal with her emotions over her many years of being a nurse.
As soon as Celia had taken the unteroffizier’s meagre belongings to Matron’s office she returned to the ward and decided to go and meet the new patient who had taken his bed, as he was now awake.
Another young one, Celia thought. He looked about twenty, just a few years younger than her.
‘Good morning …’ she peered forward to look at his records for his name and rank, ‘… Lieutenant.’
‘Good morning, Nurse…?’
‘Robertson,’ she replied, forcing a smile. His English was good and he seemed sweet. ‘You must have arrived early this morning or during the night, I suppose?’
‘At about two this morning,’ he said. ‘So far I’m very satisfied with the accommodation.’
She presumed he was joking but he didn’t smile at first. Then, when he did, his entire face seemed to light up.
Celia smiled. ‘I’m pleased you’re happy,’ she said, enjoying their banter.
She noticed the soldier’s eyes widen with surprise and followed his line of vision, to see Otto grinning at him.
‘Otto Hoffman!’
Celia’s mood lifted to see the two men so happy to see one another. She couldn’t understand what they were saying because they spoke too quickly in German, but it was clear that they were old acquaintances.
She set about her work, leaving them to catch up, and later when Doctor Burton was examining the lieutenant behind a screen, Celia went to Otto to ask more about the newcomer.
‘You obviously know each other well.’ She watched his smile widen.
‘We have known each other since he was in kindergarten with my younger brother,’ he said with a far-off look on his face. ‘He and I used to fight in the playground until we discovered that each of us was better than all the other boys in the class at climbing trees. It was our love of climbing that brought our friendship.’
‘His English is excellent, just like yours.’
He smiled. ‘He tells me that he went to university for a year in England, as I did. Although opposite universities.’ He gave an amused chuckle.
‘Opposite?’ She didn’t understand what he meant.
‘I was at Oxford and he at Cambridge.’ He laughed. ‘Typical of us to apply to different places.’
‘Well, I’m glad you have a familiar face around you here now.’
He stopped laughing and looked up at her, love shining from his eyes. ‘I already had a familiar face. One that no one else could ever replace in importance to me.’
Her heart full, she smiled. ‘I feel the same way,’ she whispered without moving her lips. Celia sensed she was being watched and straightened Otto’s blanket, smoothing it down at the side. ‘I ought to be getting on with my duties.’
‘Yes. We don’t want you getting into trouble.’
If getting into trouble didn’t involve her being sent away from Otto, then she wouldn’t mind one bit, but she would never risk that, Celia thought as she walked away from his bed.