| |
Meg lifted her hair off her neck and fanned her face with her notebook. The tent was sweltering in the late afternoon humidity, and she’d give anything for even a little sea breeze that had sometimes cooled the hospital in Townsville, but she was a long way north from there.
‘Eight hundred and seventy-two miles, Sister.’ The flight lieutenant who delivered the nurses to Nadzab airbase had told her. ‘Almost due north from your last posting.’
The Americans had built this airbase, northwest of Lae, after they, and an Aussie contingent, had liberated it from the Japanese last year. Although the base wasn’t far from the Markham River, Nadzab was twenty-seven miles inland from the coast, and she walked around in a near-constant state of sweat-dampened clothes. All of the staff looked wilted most of the time. But then, neatly ironed uniforms were irrelevant here.
Meg looked around the room at her fellow sisters. Since last October, nurses and physiotherapists had been posted to 2/9th AGH at “Seventeen Mile” near Port Moresby. They had treated some of the wounded from the Kokoda campaign. Now, she was one of fifteen Aussie nurses selected to begin bringing home wounded servicemen. By air! They might look wilted, but a burst of pride hit Meg as she thought about the mission they were embarking on.
She flipped back to an early page in her notebook. Their training had included in-flight medicine and care at altitude, tropical hygiene, and emergency survival procedures—which Meg prayed she would never have to implement. Ditching in the ocean had become the stuff of her most recent nightmares. It didn’t help that at best, she was only a mediocre swimmer. Maybe she should try to fit in another training session?
A swimmer, she wasn’t, but tomorrow, she would be one of the first of the RAAF medi-evac nurses the men were already dubbing “Flying Angels”.
With a concerted effort, she focused her attention back on Major Allen, the doctor heading up their new unit, who was summing up after days of lectures and some scary practical training. Thank goodness she wasn’t afraid of heights.
‘So, ladies, in conclusion. Air evacuations are the quickest and most effective way to transport seriously wounded troops from the front line in New Guinea and the surrounding islands. The faster we can get a wounded man to expert care, the greater his chance of survival. You, Sisters, will be the difference to these men, and to getting them home alive to their families.’
He stood at the front of the group of nurses, all recruited from the RAAFNS, and smiled for the first time. ‘Your flight schedules will be posted in the mess hall at seventeen hundred hours, which is—’ He flipped over his wrist and looked at his watch. ‘Now. Check when you’ll be heading out. Those of you on the first evacuation flight, get your beauty sleep. You’ll be expected at breakfast at zero three thirty with take-off at first light. I don’t need to tell you in these parts that comes early. Congratulations on passing your training, and good luck. Dismissed.’
Meg gathered her clipboard, set her hat on her head, and edged along the row of chairs following in the footsteps of three of her fellow nurses as they headed towards the mess tent.
Cynthia, Meg’s bunk buddy, dropped back from the leading group and took her arm. ‘I’m a bundle of nerves. There’s a lot of pressure if you’re the first cab off the rank tomorrow.’
‘Or the first plane off the tarmac in this case. And yes, there is pressure, but it will be so exciting to become a flying nurse.’ They both giggled at her silly turn of phrase. ‘Do you think they’ll give us insignia with wings, like the pilots?’
Cynthia shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting. The top brass takes forever to make major changes that seem obvious to us. I mean, why didn’t they let us start these evacuations last year, when the first nurses were permitted to work in forward stations in Papua?’
‘Probably because they didn’t have a secure airbase close enough to the front lines back then.’
‘Hey, girls, the roster is up.’ Two nurses who’d led the way to the mess tent stepped to one side as Meg and Cynthia entered the tent.
Meg stopped in front of the board and looked at the orders. There in black type was her name against tomorrow’s inaugural flight. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
‘So, Sister Dorset is Flying Angel Number One. Ready for all that excitement and pressure, Margaret?’ Cynthia gave her a one-armed hug. ‘I’m so relieved it’s you and not me. You’re a leader.’
‘What do you mean? You volunteered for this posting, like the rest of us. That’s leading the way in my book.’
Cynthia shrugged as she often did when deflecting attention from herself. ‘Okay, I’ll give you that, but I prefer to follow where others forge a path. But hey, you can tell me all about it when you get back because I’m not on until—’ Cynthia ran her finger down the list. ‘Three days’ time. Flying Angel number four—suits me perfectly.’
##
3.30 A.M./Zero three thirty
Meg blinked furiously and rubbed her eyes, still trying to clear the grit of sleep as she headed into breakfast. It was such an odd time to wake and begin the day, neither late nor early for a nurse used to night shifts.
Her flight team—how her heart sang at those words—drifted into the mess where the poor cook had probably been up since two a.m. preparing their breakfast. Corporal Duncan Jarvis, her orderly, slid along the bench and patted the spot beside him. ‘Here you go.’
As she sat next to him, he asked, ‘Nervous about taking your first flight, Sister?’
‘Yes and no. I think I’m more excited than nervous, but I’ll give you an update when we’re in the air.’ But the rush of adrenaline had the tang of an adventure in it.
‘Eat well is my advice. You won’t get another meal for a while.’
Meg did as Duncan suggested and was finishing a mug of tea when the call came to board. Meg slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out into the grey light. A sliver of pale light sat between the earth and a heavy layer of low clouds.
The DC-47 sat on the tarmac with its cargo doors open and engines revving. To Meg’s untrained eye, its snub nose made it look like a flying fish, or a child’s model airplane. The nearer they drew to the olive-drab Dakota the more deafening the twin engines became. There was no Red Cross insignia on the plane, and a shiver ran down Meg’s spine. Camouflage colours reminded her – they were heading into dangerous territory.
Speech was impossible so Duncan signalled for her to board first. Thankful she was wearing trousers, she climbed in. And stared.
The cargo area was jam packed for the outward journey. She knew eighteen stretchers could be stacked three by three in the modified interior. Nine patients per side of the plane and eighteen in total. Two attendants, her and Duncan, would care for the men along a narrow central aisle. That was how it had been described and how it had looked the day they toured a Dak, the pilot’s name for his plane.
There was no aisle. There were no seats. Only crates held in place by netting.
She looked around the interior then, turning to Duncan, mouthed, ‘Where do we sit?’
He found her a spot on a single crate next to a stack of boxes and barrels covered by a cargo net, leaned close and said, ‘Hang on to the net if it gets bumpy.’
She gave him a thumbs up signal and pressed her back against the wall. The engines throbbed and the plane vibrated like a living being. The rumbling bass note rose as the DC-47 raced east along the runway and leapt towards the rising sun.
Blinded by light streaming through the open cockpit door, Meg narrowed her eyes and clung to the cargo net until they banked over the sea before turning north and levelling out.
The noise of the engines increased when they climbed over mountains whose heads touched the clouds. Peak upon magnificent peak passed them by, with jungle like a green fossil all around. Meg clutched the edge of the cockpit doorway, awed by the landscape.
When they were a little way out from their destination, Flight-Lieutenant Roper invited Meg and Duncan into the cockpit. ‘As this is the first air evacuation flight, Kipling and I thought you’d like to share in the moment, Sister, Corporal. Kipling, do you have the requisite equipment to make a toast?’
Flt-Lt Kipling raised a silver hip flask and produced three tin mugs. Pouring a little into each, he handed them around before raising the flask.
Roper raised his. ‘To “Meet You”’s maiden flight. Let’s bring our boys home.’
What a clever nickname, Meg thought. 1 MAETU was affectionately known as Meet You— appropriate for a unit that was bringing their men home.
‘To Meet You.’ Meg drank. The brandy was smooth—and strong. She coughed once and swallowed hard. It had been a long time since she had imbibed, but this moment was worth celebrating.
Looking through the windows, she saw blue ocean that stretched to the horizon on either side. White puffs of cloud floated beneath them, and ahead lay a greenish-grey smudge of land anchored to the earth by a steep-sided mountain that grew steadily bigger as they approached their destination.
Their first load of patients was lined up at the end of an exposed coral airstrip. As Meg climbed down from the Dak, the heat hit her like a physical assault. She stumbled and grabbed the side of the plane.
Duncan jumped down beside her. ‘Sister, why don’t you wait in the shade under the wing. These blokes won’t take long to unload the cargo then it’ll be our turn to bring the patients on board. Okay.’
‘Okay, and I’m fine. Just a little surprised they have the wounded waiting out in this heat. I’ll start checking off our patient list with the medical staff.’
‘They knew when to expect us, Sister. The pilot radioed ahead, and all the men understand the need for a quick turnaround. We have to get back beyond the PNG ranges by midday, before the afternoon storms hide the mountain peaks.’
‘Of course. I’ll get started right away.’
It isn’t just the enemy we have to keep watch for.
She dug deep for her I’m-totally-relaxed-and-know-what-I’m-doing smile and approached an orderly standing beside the first patient in line, clipboard at the ready.
Be quick. Be efficient.
Towering mountain peaks waited like predators in the clouds. Waited to grab the unwary out of the skies and bury them in steep valleys below.
##
By the time they returned to base, Meg felt both exhausted and ecstatic. Major Allen was on the tarmac to meet the plane and oversee the unloading of the patients. He checked each man as he was lifted from the plane and set inside the shade of waiting ambulances. When the last patient was disembarked, the major posed for a photo with him, Meg and Duncan. ‘For the local rags back in Oz.’
The patient, a cheery chap despite two broken legs and a bandage around his head, gave a grin and a thumbs-up gesture to the photographer before he was sent on his way to the hospital.
Major Allen led Meg and her orderly to a waiting jeep. ‘I think it’s appropriate to raise a glass to the success of our first evacuation flight, don’t you, Sister, Corporal?’
Meg and Duncan made eye contact and quickly looked away. ‘Indeed, Major, that’s kind of you.’
‘We’ll do a full debriefing after you’ve both eaten, but tell me now, off the record, how did you find it?’
Duncan deferred to Meg.
‘Staff on the ground were brilliant, and patients were loaded in a timely manner with all care for their comfort. The turnaround was quick. Oh—’ She reached into her pocket and withdrew a folded envelope. ‘The doctor in charge asked me to give you this letter. He said something about sending them appropriate supplies so they could celebrate too.’
Major Allen tucked the envelope into his trouser pocket and climbed in behind the wheel of the jeep. ‘Indeed. I’ll see to the loading of a crate of special medical supplies to go out on tomorrow’s flight.’