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Meg tapped on the door of the nurses’ hut before entering, clipboard in hand. Five faces turned towards her as she sniffed the air appreciatively. ‘Please tell me you made a pot of hot cocoa and there’s some left!’
Catherine picked up a mug and poured in the last of the contents of the pot. ‘Sorry, only the dregs I’m afraid. If you’d been here two minutes earlier—’
Meg tucked her clipboard under her arm and wrapped both hands around the mug. ‘Dregs or not, this is welcome. Considering how warm the days are, I’m never quite prepared for the cool nights here.’ She buried her nose in the mug then sipped and sighed with pleasure. ‘It’s good.’
Gerry nudged the nurse next to her. ‘Squish up a bit, Pam. Maggie, take a load off your feet.’
Meg perched on the edge of the bunk and looked around. Three of the occupants of number two hut, which included Catherine, plus Gerry and Mary Donovan from Meg’s hut were relaxing together. ‘Where’s Eva? Isn’t she off-duty too?’
Catherine and Gerry shared a look, but it was Eva’s cabin mate who answered. ‘You know Bill Grossman, the supply sergeant she met at one of the dances? He picked her up when she came off duty and whisked her away. I heard him remark how lovely moonlight on the water is as they strolled down the driveway.’
Gerry drained her mug and set it at her feet. ‘Working in Supply means he’s got easy access to the car pool. My guess is he’s taking her down to The Strand and I don’t think he wants to show her the view, if you get my drift.’
Pam laughed. ‘A car, a beach, and moonlight on the water. Sounds like a seduction to me.’
A sigh from Gerry filtered through the laughter of the other nurses. ‘How come Eva’s the lucky one to hit on one of the few blokes with access to a vehicle? And on a Saturday night.’
Mary’s expression turned wistful. ‘I can hardly remember what Saturday nights were like before the war.’
‘Are you envious of Eva, Gerry?’ For all that Gerry was attractive, she hadn’t taken a shine to any of the men she’d met. American or Australian, not one had caught her interest beyond socialising at the occasional dances, and yet she loved fine clothes and good times, dressing up and flirting.
Gerry shrugged and leaned back on her elbows. ‘Not envious of her. Just tired of being confined here. Five or six miles is a bit far to walk to a beach when we’re off duty.’
‘True.’ Meg finished her cocoa and stood with a sigh. It had been a long day on the ward for all of them. Two patients had been brought in with malaria and a jeep had gone into a ditch near Garbutt air base. Then, while the other nurses went off duty and relaxed, Meg had stayed back and written up the roster.
She glanced at the page on her clipboard. Doc had asked her to join him at a gathering of medical supervisors and head nurses, but despite the fact it was technically still work, she felt guilty about taking an evening off.
‘I’ll post the roster for the next seven days on the board. Any urgent changes, find someone you can switch with before you okay it with me. Thanks for the pick-me-up cocoa. Good night, ladies.’
##
Meg sat up abruptly. Something out of the ordinary had woken her, beyond an occasional snore that interrupted the gentle breathing of her cabin mates. Slipping her feet into her boots and pulling on her dressing gown, she slipped out of the hut and looked around. The moon was almost full and silvery light lent an ethereal grace to the workday ugliness of surrounding huts.
It was probably a possum.
And since she was awake, she might as well visit the nurses’ loo. A recent need to go more often reminded her she didn’t have much time to choose a nominee for her position. Telling Doc would be hard, but if she could at least recommend a replacement backed up by her notes on nursing personnel, she’d feel a bit better about deserting him—them. No one was indispensable, but the anticipation of having Seamus’s baby wasn’t enough to make her feel their timing wasn’t terrible. Not now the war in the Pacific had grown fiercer, and the battleground in Papua New Guinea was on their doorstep.
As she returned to her hut, a hunched figure at the edge of the croquet lawn resolved into Eva. In uniform. Sobbing. Meg approached cautiously and quietly, but Eva didn’t look up, not even when Meg put a hand on her shoulder.
‘Has something happened, Eva?’
The nurse struggled to take more than a short breath, and the moonlight was enough to reveal the wreck of her make up. ‘They’re—coming!’ She choked on the word and flung herself into Meg’s arms.
Several minutes of cajoling and soothing passed before Eva settled enough to make sense and when she did, her words chilled Meg to the bone.
‘Bill and I were parked above one of the beaches when we saw them. Three or four planes—I don’t know for sure, but they dropped lots of bombs. Bill reckoned they all landed in the sea, but after the first one hit, I hid my eyes. Oh, God, they’re coming here, aren’t they? They’re going to invade us.’ Eva began rocking back and forth, moaning softly.
Holding Eva and patting her back, Meg’s mind raced. Had Eva even witnessed a real bombing? There hadn’t been any alarm raised, although the alarm that had sounded before the bombing in Darwin had been almost useless. Two minutes’ warning about an attack of that size was ridiculous. But if the Japanese had dropped bombs, why hadn’t the hospital been put on alert?
‘Come on, Eva. Let’s get you inside and—’
‘Sisters, good evening. Or is it morning?’ Dr Ransom appeared from the direction of the hospital, his stethoscope draped around his neck. Coming from a late call to a patient, Meg reasoned, but she was glad to see him. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Good morning, Doctor. Sister Smith is a bit shaken up. She said she saw some Japanese planes dropping bombs.’
Eva’s shoulders tensed beneath Meg’s hands. She sat straight and sniffed loudly. ‘I did see them. I’m not making it up. They all fell into the water.’
Dr Ransom offered a hand to help first Meg, then Eva up from the ground. ‘Perhaps a hot cup of tea might help?’
‘I’ll see what I can rustle up. Come with me, Eva.’
‘I’d rather go to bed.’
Maybe she was embarrassed about breaking down in Meg’s arms. Against her better judgement, she allowed the tremor in Eva’s voice to convince her. ‘If you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ Eva pushed hair off her face and walked a less than straight line to her hut.
‘Do you suspect her of drinking, Margaret?’
Meg shook her head and rubbed her upper arms. The night was cool and she hadn’t felt warm even before she left the hut. ‘I didn’t smell alcohol on her, but she arrived back from her evening much later than permitted, and she was genuinely distraught. But if there was a bombing raid, why didn’t we hear any alarms?’
Dr Ransom rubbed a thumb over his lower lip and frowned. ‘That is odd. I’ll call Garbutt air base and see what I can find out. Come into my office while I make the call.’
They passed a line of sleeping patients on the way to Doc’s office in the front corner of the veranda. He pushed open the door and closed it behind Meg before turning on a desk lamp. A neat pile of case notes was stacked in one corner, but the ink blotter showed signs of recent writing. He opened the lowest filing drawer, took out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. ‘Care to join me, Margaret? It will warm you up.’
Mindful of Don Newton’s comments about not imbibing spirits, she shook her head. ‘I don’t drink, but thank you.’
He poured a small glass for himself and tossed it back before replacing the bottle and glasses in the drawer. ‘I’m not a fan of bourbon, but Don gave it to me after I helped him with advice on an unusual surgery. I’d prefer a good malt whisky, but beggars can’t be choosers. Now, that call.’ He picked up the receiver and waited for the operator. At this time of night, the connection was quickly made, but whomever Doc wanted to speak to was slow coming to the phone.
By the time he ended the call, Meg decided that all doctors must be taught how to suppress their emotions, because she had no idea from his expression whether the answers he’d been given were good or bad. ‘Well? Was there a raid?’
‘Yes. Reports vary between two and four planes, but Japanese flying boats dropped six bombs, all of which landed in the sea. Probably going after the harbour installations, which were lit up like a da—like a fairyland. In the end, the Americans either smashed or shot out the harbour lights. It seems no one knew whose job it was to switch them off.’
‘Why didn’t we hear a siren?’
‘The ones in town worked, but the electrical system servicing our area sirens failed. None sounded near here or out at Garbutt. There was no aerial response, and the colonel I spoke with is of a mind that the Japs were—pardon the pun—testing the waters to see what our response might be.’
‘I hope there is one next time—a response, I mean.’ Praying she wouldn’t go through another bombing like Darwin, Meg let out a sigh. ‘Should I tell my nurses or are we to keep quiet about tonight?’
‘Best to give them the facts in case Sister Smith’s retelling exaggerates the size of the raid. And be sure to tell them the air force will be on watch from now on. We’ve got what pilots call a bomber’s moon. The Japs might try again, but we’ll be ready for them. This won’t be like Darwin. You’ll be safe here, Margaret. Would you like to have that cup of tea we talked about?’
Her head lifted at his tone. Not quite intimate, but personal and caring enough to remind her she was alone with him in a sleeping ward. Enough to remind her how appealing a man who cared could be. Enough to remind her of Gerry’s comment that Doc liked her. His care and concern for her could slip under her guard and make her forget her engaged status if she wasn’t careful.
Seamus trusts me to wait for him, and I will. Me and our baby.
Folding her arms across her chest, she accepted that she liked Doc. It was impossible not to appreciate his fine qualities. But she would not like him in that way. ‘I pray we’ll all be safe. Thank you for sharing the information with me, Doctor. I’ll give the tea a miss and say good night. With luck I might catch a few more hours of sleep.’
‘Probably a good idea. Good night, Margaret. Sleep well.’ Was she imagining disappointment that she was leaving? A midnight conversation with her superior was one thing, but they’d teetered on the edge of something more—of being simply a man and a woman together in the wee hours of morning.
Witching hours, when people made wrong turns.
She slipped out of the room through the smallest opening of his door so as not to disturb the patients nearest to his office then gently closed the door behind her. With swift steps, she left the ward and hurried down the path back to her hut. It was all very well talking about sleeping through the rest of the night. In truth, she was certain sleep would elude her.
As she let herself back into her hut, her mind whirled. Japanese bombers attacking Townsville, and Dr Ransom offering tea and comfort in the dead of night. Neither event was conducive to sleep, but she snuggled beneath her blankets, closed her eyes and prayed. ‘Please keep Seamus safe, keep our pilots alert, and please dear Lord, remind me every day how lucky I am to have found the love of my life. Keep me steadfast and true. Amen.’
##
By the time Meg joined the other nurses at breakfast, Eva was preening over what had become her starring role in the attack.
‘. . . and then we raced back to Bill’s HQ to report what we’d seen. It was ever so frightening, but it was lucky we were there to see and report it.’
‘Weren’t you scared silly?’ Mary asked.
‘Of course, but we were eyewitnesses. We had to tell what we saw.’
Meg stayed quiet about Eva’s confession—that she’d buried her face in the sergeant’s shoulder and not looked up after the first bomb fell. But Doc had been right about Eva’s tendency to exaggerate.
Meg tapped on her mug with a spoon and waited till all eyes turned her way. ‘I’ve been asked to give you the official information pertaining to the encounter Sister Smith told you about.’ Meg recounted the details passed on via Doc from Garbutt Airfield and ended with a request for calm. ‘The air force will be on high alert over the next few nights due to what they call a bomber’s moon, which makes it easier for pilots to pick out their targets. If you hear an alarm, remember the drill. Tin hat, shelter as per orders. There will be a practice drill later today. Take time to check your equipment prior to it happening.’
Murmurs of ‘Yes, Sister,’ drifted up to where she sat at the head of the table before the group fell back into conversation punctuated by the occasional exclamation of concern. Eva threw her a dirty look for stealing her limelight and turned away. Last night, Meg had put her curtness down to shock, but now—
As she stood and lifted her breakfast tray, Meg spoke over the buzz of chatter. ‘Sister Smith, report to my office in ten minutes.’ The other nurses fell quiet. Those either side of Eva suddenly found their breakfast of intense interest when Eva’s mulish expression returned. Her assent was given through gritted teeth. Disciplining a nurse was still a challenge for Meg, but Eva’s attitude was making it easier to formulate what she had to say.
By the time Eva knocked on Meg’s office door—two minutes late, Meg noted—she had contrived to change her expression into something vaguely pleasant. ‘You wanted to see me, Sister Dorset?’
‘Come in, Sister, and close the door.’ Picking the time after the night shift ended and while the nurses on the morning shift were occupied with the morning routine had been deliberate. ‘Last night, you were out well past the time your leave pass allowed.’
‘We had to report what we’d seen, Sister. There was a bombing raid!’ The last words were delivered with a Remember! implied by her tone. A certain amount of smugness was almost always guaranteed when speaking to Eva, but her attitude this morning took smug to a whole new level.
Leaving a pause during which she simply looked at Eva gave Meg time to bite back a sarcastic remark. Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her tone to mimic her Sydney matron’s following the one time Meg had raced in five minutes late coming in from seeing a movie. ‘That would be understandable, and acceptable if the raid had occurred earlier in the evening, but the official reports place it around midnight. You were required to be back by eleven. Your excuse for being late only serves to highlight that you had already disregarded your leave entitlement.’
Eva’s expression lost its smugness as she realised her error. ‘We—we’d broken down and Bill had to fix the engine. It wasn’t my fault.’
‘Are you telling me your date magically fixed this—breakdown—as soon as the raid ended?’
‘He’s very good with his hands—’ Dull colour raced up Eva’s neck and over her cheeks. ‘I mean—’
Meg raised one hand. If Eva kept talking, she’d dig herself all the way to China. ‘Spare me the details, Sister Smith. I have no choice but to place you on report and refuse requests for a leave pass until further notice.’
‘But that means I’ll miss the next dance. That’s not fair!’
‘Those are the rules. This is not up for discussion. Dismissed, Sister.’ Meg opened Eva’s file, bent her head and picked up her pen.
Eva made no move to leave.
Pausing before she wrote a single word, Meg glanced up. Eva’s cheeks were mottled red, and her fists clenched at her sides. Meg raised her eyebrows in a manner that should intimidate even Eva, although naked hatred glared through her eyes before she wrenched the door open and fled. The door banged and bounced off the filing cabinet.
Sucking in a breath and exhaling a soft whew, Meg set her pen down and gripped her hands together. Eva’s infraction was bad enough, but as far as Meg was concerned, that response had sealed her fate. Doc had been right to—
Doc appeared in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his white coat and jerked his head in the direction taken by Eva. ‘I see the interview with Sister Smith went over like a lead balloon.’
Speak of the devil!
Meg rose and nodded. ‘Unfortunately, when presented with the fact that she’d already blown her leave pass by not returning on time, she offered a lie. Claimed they had broken down at the beach before the raid.’
‘Easy to establish—or discredit. I’ll call the Supply Sergeant’s superior officer and find out what his story is, but if, as I suspect, he owns up to the truth, then I’ll be requesting Smith’s transfer out. If she can’t follow rules or keep a civil tongue in her head, she’s not suited to the work we do here. Well handled by the way, Sister.’
‘You heard us?’
‘By chance only. I was coming to talk to you about the training meeting on Tuesday evening when I saw Smith at your door, so I waited. I didn’t think you’d be with her for long.’
Meg nodded. Doc’s approval of how she’d handled the situation felt good and, difficult as she found the discipline side of her position, Meg knew she’d done the right thing. ‘You mentioned something about the meeting?’
‘Ah yes. There’s some top brass visiting, as Don would say, so they’ve changed the training to Wednesday the twenty-ninth to accommodate them and added dinner afterwards. We’ll leave here at 1700 hours. The training session will start at 1730 hours.’
Mentally adjusting her night off on the current roster, Meg nodded. ‘Nice of them to feed us.’
Be quiet, Meg. That sounds too friendly. Formal is normal.
She cleared her throat and rested her hands on Eva’s personnel file. ‘Will that be all, Doctor?’
##
Sirens wailed, cutting through the night and dragging Meg out of a dream that disappeared the moment she opened her eyes.
‘Come on, Maggie.’ Gerry switched on the light and the four nurses grabbed their tin hats and raced out towards the nearest slit trench.
Meg managed to get both arms into her dressing gown before sliding over the lip of the trench in a shower of dirt. One foot clipped a body.
‘Oi, watch it!’ The male owner of the voice grabbed her, easing her down into the relative safety of the trench. ‘There you go, luv.’
‘Sorry.’ Recognising the voice as belonging to Corporal Davis, one of the orderlies known for his spiky sense of humour, Meg felt relief. Davis was sensible, for all he enjoyed a laugh and a joke, and he swiftly organised those sheltering with him.
‘Another body incoming. Scrunch up a bit, luv.’
Meg hunkered down and shielded her head as someone joined them, sending small chunks of dirt over her helmet. Davis wasn’t concerned who was in his trench, only that they were safe. Which reminded Meg . . . Calling names softly, she checked that each of the nurses from her cabin and Catherine’s next door were in the trench then peered into the slice of sky above. ‘Davis, do you know what’s happening?’
‘Maybe another raid? I heard a single plane go over. Sounded like it circled over the sea and headed north, then there were several crumps. Could have been bombs falling. Hard to tell, Sister.’
Crouching in the trench, packed in with unseen others, Meg shivered. It stayed quiet. If this was a raid, were there more explosions to come? Maybe on top of them? The huge red cross on the hospital ship in Darwin Harbour hadn’t stopped a bomb hitting them. Bombs—or maybe the pilots who dropped them—were no respecters of symbols. Bombs dropped, detonated, destroyed.
Each breath Meg drew sounded loud and shaky in her ears. Too loud? Could the others hear her fear? What about setting a good example? She forced herself to inhale slowly, hold the breath while she counted to five then exhale slowly. Not so bad, she thought, and repeated the pattern.
By the time the all-clear siren was sounded, Meg’s nerves were still tightly strung, but she had control of her breathing. No bombs had fallen on them and they were safe. As Davis and another orderly switched on their torches and helped them out of the trench, she became aware of someone softly sobbing and looked around.
Eva.
‘I think we all need hot drinks. Come on, everyone.’ Taking Eva by the arm, Meg rounded up her nurses and headed for the mess tent. She called over her shoulder, ‘Davis, spread the word, will you. Tea and bikkies for whoever turns up.’
‘Yes, Sister.’ His torch bobbed away across the green and Meg issued directions for two of the nurses to set water to boil and find the cook’s supply of biscuits. If ever they needed a sweet treat, it was tonight. She glanced at her watch as she settled Eva at a back table. After two in the morning. Whether or not bombs had been dropped, the enemy had disrupted routine and set them all on edge.
‘Sister Smith? Eva?’ The nurse was a mess—again. Even without her disregard for the rules it was becoming clear to Meg. Eva would not cope if they came under a concerted enemy attack. ‘Eva, listen to me. You’re fine. There aren’t any bombs falling. You’re safe, do you hear?’
Catherine approached, an eyebrow raised, asking if she could join them. Meg nodded.
‘We’re safe, Eva. Nothing more will happen tonight.’ Catherine slipped an arm around her shoulders and at last, Eva gave a small nod.
Watching her, Meg was certain Catherine would make an excellent replacement for her. The thought was bittersweet. Just as she had begun to feel comfortable in her role as head nurse on Doc’s team, she was running out of time.
Two big pots of tea and trays of mugs were set on the table and plates of biscuits were handed around. Meg took one and nibbled it, aiming to make it last as long as possible. Scanning those gathered, she sensed all aside from Eva were coping, at least outwardly.
‘Sister Dorset?’ Davis leaned close and spoke softly. ‘Doc Ransom said to let everyone know it was a single airboat that dropped eight bombs. They landed north of town near Many Peaks Range.’
‘Thanks, Davis. I’ll tell them. Did he say if the RAAF engaged the bomber?’
Davis shook his head. ‘That’s all he told me. Okay if I grab a cuppa now, Sister?’
‘Go ahead.’ Standing at the end of the table, Meg called for attention and passed on the details before encouraging everyone to drink up, stay positive, and get some sleep. ‘I know it’s hard after the excitement of tonight—’
‘It’s morning, Sister,’ someone called from the other side of the mess.
Meg nodded and continued. ‘After this morning’s excitement, but I expect you all to be as rested as possible in the morning. Later this morning.’ Grateful for the touch of humour, she caught the eye of the nurse who had corrected her and smiled. Cradling her mug in both hands, Meg waited until most of the others had left then encouraged the stragglers to find their beds.
As for her, she knew sleep would come late. She understood the nerve-shattering fear of looking up and seeing bombs raining down around her. What they’d experienced here was little more than a warning of what would come if their defence forces failed to push the Japs back in those island countries to the north. How much worse must it be for Seamus and the others, under constant enemy bombardment?
As she walked back to her hut, she paused and looked for the Southern Cross. The same stars shone in the sky as they had at the River but, without Seamus, they were cold and comfortless. She hurried the last few yards to her hut and closed out the night and the war.