Wednesday, September 18, 1940, 9:00 PM
Bess’s eyes opened. Her brain took time to catch up. She was surprised to find herself in a comfortable bed, wearing no clothes. Her wet nightdress and green dressing gown were gone. She felt around on a table beside the bed, and found her glasses. Someone had cleaned them. How on earth had they stayed on? She carefully put them on over her salt-scarred face.
A large tub of water was sitting in the middle of the room.
“I could do without seeing water again,” she said aloud.
“Me too,” said a familiar voice from across the room.
“Beth!”
Beth gave a weak wave from the sofa on the other side of the room.
Just then, Dr. Collison came in.
“Glad to see you two awake,” he said cheerfully.
“Where are we?” said Bess.
“You’re in the captain’s quarters. You’ve been given VIP treatment. Best beds on the ship, by all accounts. How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” said Beth.
“Pretty dizzy,” offered Bess. Truth be told, she felt horrible. Worse than the worst flu she’d ever had. She was shaking and sweating, with pains running up and down her body.
But she was alive. She was no longer in the ocean.
“You need to get into the bath. You’ve got to get that salt washed off your body. And you need to get some fresh water into your system,” said the doctor.
“I’m not sure I can …”
“You must. Doctor’s orders,” he smiled kindly.
He carefully helped her into the tub. The water stung where her skin had been scraped raw.
Suddenly her eyes welled with tears.
“How am I going to tell them?” she wept. “How can I tell my parents that I lost Louis? He didn’t even want to come on the trip. It was all my idea. And now he’s gone. They will never, ever forgive me …” Tears streamed down her face.
Dr. Collison knelt down beside Bess.
“You mustn’t think of it that way,” he said quietly. “They’ll be so happy to have you home safely. So grateful to have you.” He paused. “Some mummies and daddies won’t have anyone coming home.”
Bess sobbed. It was an unspeakable thought, and he had said it. She felt guilty for crying. But she felt swallowed up by sorrow.
The reality of this war was more horrific than anyone could have possibly imagined.
Dr. Collinson looked in on Bess and Beth every few hours throughout the night. He changed the bandages on their feet and wiped their cuts carefully with purple iodine. He gave them tablets to help to bring their fever down and to dull the pain. He brought clean sailor’s shirts for them to wear and told them they were confined to bed.
Bess hurt everywhere. She felt bruised in every part of her body. But mostly she was sick at heart. She ached for her brother. Beth tried to make her feel better, reminding her of what Dr. Collinson had said and of how happy her parents would be to have her come home. But she couldn’t help feeling guilty. The trip had been her idea. She had pushed for it. She had persuaded her parents and Louis. It was her fault.
Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door.
“Come in?” said Beth. Bess turned her back to the door.
“Miss Walder?” said a commanding voice. “Sit up, young lady.” Bess thought she’d never felt less like sitting up. She turned her head slowly to see the ship’s captain standing in the doorway, looking very stern. Perhaps he wants us out of his bedroom, she thought.
“I have something you lost,” he said. And with that he reached around behind him and brought forward a small boy in an oversized sailor’s uniform and cap down to his ears.
“What are you doing lying in bed?” the boy asked, grinning. “Get up.”
“LOUIS!” screamed Bess and he bounded across the room and into her arms.
“We were thrown out of the lifeboat before we even got to the water.” Louis was sitting at the end of Bess’s bed, eating through a mound of chocolate biscuits that neither Bess nor Beth could swallow.
“The water was so cold, and I kept going under. I tried to remember what Dad had shown us, but the waves just kept pushing me down. I was sure I was a goner.”
Bess could hardly listen to Louis’ words. She just wanted to stare at him, to drink him in.
“The life jacket saved me. I kept popping up to the surface. And I kept moving. Kicking like crazy.
“Suddenly someone grabbed me. It was Michael, swimming in the water. He’s a terrific swimmer! He pulled me over to the boat and Mr. Proudfoot—he told me he was the bartender at the other end of the ship—he lifted me in.
“There was a lot of water in the boat. It was almost up to my waist. Michael was still in the water, swimming, and he got more boys in. There were lots of us there. I was really glad to see Rex. He was worried about his little sister Marion, though. He couldn’t find her when we were getting on the lifeboat.
“And then they gave us some rum! It burned and made me cough, but it made me feel a little warmer. Michael was in the boat then and he had some too. I guess there was no one left for him to save.
“After he had the rum, he looked pretty tired. Mr. Proudfoot said he’d tired himself out, saving so many of us.
“I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up he wasn’t there anymore. Neither were some of the other kids. But Mr. Proudfoot and another man, they looked after me. They tried to hold me and Rex out of the water. Mr. Proudfoot is really tall, and he tucked me under his arm to keep me a bit dry until the rescue boat came.
“When I woke up this morning I was feeling a lot better, so one of the sailors showed me around the ship. Then I saw your old green dressing gown hanging up to dry in the boiler room, so I knew you were around somewhere. And the captain brought me here.”
Bess tried to make sense of what Louis said. Michael Rennie, the strong, handsome escort—he died? How had she survived and he hadn’t? It was all too much, too impossibly painful. She looked at Beth. She saw tears streaming down her face.
“Bessie?”
“Yes, Louis?”
“I don’t want to go to Canada anymore.”
“Neither do I,” she reassured him. “It’s all right. The ship is taking us home.”
“Bessie?”
“Yes, Louis?”
“I lost my engine.”
“I know.”
“But the rest of the train is still at home, right?”
“Yes. The rest of the train is safe at home, waiting for you.”
* * *
Sonia was sitting with Derek, Barbara, and Colin, having sweet tea in the officers’ mess. Her mother was talking to Mr. Davis, the man from the BBC.
“I can’t thank you enough for what you did for us. We wouldn’t be alive, had it not been for you,” she said.
There were a couple of other children in the mess, but Sonia didn’t recognize them. They must be the seavacuees, she thought. There weren’t very many. Sonia counted five. She heard that there were a couple of girls in really bad shape sleeping in the captain’s quarters. Perhaps another ship had picked up the rest of the children.
News that they were heading to Scotland spread quickly through the ship. It would take two days to reach the port at Greenock.
“I never wanted to leave in the first place,” said a woman who Sonia recognized from the lounge of the Benares. “And I certainly won’t be doing this again.”
Sonia had to admit that she was very happy to be going back home. She thought she could face any number of bombs after what they’d been through.
The next morning, Sonia went with her mother to a ritual burial at sea. Three boys who had been pulled out of the water the day before had died in the night. “Some of the seavacuees,” said Sonia’s mother. Rescue had come just hours too late.
“All hands bury the dead.” The call went through the ship. They went to the quarterdeck and joined the crew and other passengers who were well enough to walk.
Colin sat quietly beside Sonia. The captain had slowed the ship so that it was barely moving. The crew all stood at attention.
There were Union Jacks lying on top of each of the three cloth-covered bodies.
“You have all been through a terrible trial,” said Lieutenant Commander Simms to everyone, “but you have survived. Three hundred and six souls perished when the Benares went down. These three little boys represent them all. This burial at sea is to honour all of those who are not returning.”
The ship’s chaplain read the Lord’s Prayer. Three times he said, “And we therefore commit his body to the deep. May God rest his soul.”
The ship’s massive six-inch gun fired three times. A young sailor played “Taps” on the bugle.
Sonia leaned against her mother. The crew saluted as each small body gently slid down a ramp and floated away.