A while later, as I was about to return to the seafront, Captain Ashdown appeared, carrying a man over his shoulder. He looked worn out, as he laid the man down and tried to catch his breath. When he spotted me, he seemed unconcerned at my presence, merely nodding in my direction.
“Injured?” asked Lillian.
Captain Ashdown shook his head. His cheeks were scarlet from his exertions.
“Deceased,” he replied.
It was Sergeant Davis’ body, wrapped in ragged tarpaulin, but with care and affection.
“I could not leave him there,” he told us. “Do you have a medical officer here?”
Lillian nodded. Her hair had come loose on the right side and hung over her ear.
“Two,” she said. “You’d like them to record his death?”
“Yes,” said my Captain. “He’s an officer, nurse. I’d like to afford him some dignity if possible.”
Lillian sighed and wiped her hands against her blood-spattered uniform.
“There’s no dignity here,” she said. “And we have no storage for the dead. I’m afraid it’s all rather improper, regardless of one’s status or rank.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and tension filled the space between them. Then Lillian smiled and the skin around her dark eyes creased.
“Would you like some tea, Captain?”
“Ashdown,” he replied. “And yes, please.”
He turned to me.
“Khan?” he enquired.
“Do you know our brave private?” Lillian asked.
“Yes,” said the Captain. “And I’m wondering why he’s here.”
“I helped to save an ambulance, sir,” I told him. “It had been strafed with bullets.”
“He also saved a nurse’s life, Captain,” Lillian added. “We could have lost two colleagues, were it not for Fazal Khan. I asked him to stay for some tea.”
“I see,” said Captain Ashdown. “Well done, Khan.”
I waited for him to send me back, but the order did not come. Instead, he sat on an upturned oil drum and bowed his head. Lillian went to a hastily erected mess tent, to fetch tea.
“Sir?” I asked.
“Yes, Khan?”
“Permission to…”
“Just speak, Private,” he told me, his tone revealing exasperation. “There’s no time for that nonsense now. Forget protocol!”
“I know,” I told him. “I heard you talking…”
“Know about what?” he asked.
“The order to leave us behind,” I said.
Chaos reigned all around us, yet at that moment, we could have been the only people there. Captain Ashdown’s face fell, and he shook his head.
“I see,” he said. “And you heard my feelings on the subject?”
I nodded.
“That is why I am speaking to you,” I told him. “You are the only one I can trust.”
“No, no,” said the Captain. “The others are good men. They’re just following orders, trying to cope with the lunacy of this mission.”
“No,” I replied. “Sergeant Buckingham hates us, and the others see us as beasts of burden, just like our poor mules. You are the only one who cares for us.”
Captain Ashdown was about to reply, when Lillian returned with two cups.
“I brought you some more,” she told me. “I hope there’s nothing urgent for you to return to.”
The captain scoffed.
“That’s exactly the point,” he told us. “There will be no more orders. I’ve been told to get as many men onto ships as I can, as soon as I can. Failing that, I should save myself…”
“You’ve explicitly been told this?” asked Lillian.
“As good as,” he replied. “It’s every man for himself from now on.”
Lillian coughed.
“I’m sorry,” said Captain Ashdown. “Women, too.”
“I think you’ll find we women stick together, regardless,” she told him. “It’s the job, Captain. I thought you chaps were the same.”
“We are,” I replied, eager to defend my captain and my company. “But the situation is not of our making.”
“Pawns,” Lillian repeated from earlier that morning. “That is all we are. Pushed around some imaginary games board, whilst our masters drink brandy and make bombastic speeches to deceive those at home.”
Captain Ashdown’s shock was undisguised.
“How can you think such things?” he asked.
Lillian shrugged.
“Precisely because I can think for myself,” she replied. “Look around you, Captain. Who dies in these wars? Can you see an emperor, a prime minister or a chancellor here?”
“You’re a communist!” said Captain Ashdown.
“Not quite,” Lillian told him. “I am just a weary and disillusioned woman whose son is missing in action – a son whose father also disappeared after the Great War – and whose uncle was shamed and imprisoned because he defied polite society and fell in love.”
“But what of serving our country, our—”
“You mean as I have done?” I asked, anxious that I hadn’t overstepped the mark. “I have chosen to serve and yet I am to be cut loose, like my animals before me.”
When Lillian showed puzzlement, I explained what had been decided, and she grew enraged.
“That is utterly despicable!” she snapped at the Captain. “How can you allow this, sir?”
He shook his head.
“I cannot allow it,” he replied. “I will not allow it. It is morally wrong.”
Lillian nodded and placed a hand on his.
“Surely, you will be punished for disregarding an order,” she said.
“I should imagine so,” said the Captain, seemingly resigned to his fate.
“Punished for doing the morally decent thing,” she replied. “And you wonder why I am so disillusioned?”
He shrugged and looked at me.
“You realise we need to keep this from the men?” he said. “It will be difficult to control them should word get out.”
“It is already too late for that,” I told him. “But they will follow you, sir. If you explain yourself…”
As Captain Ashdown stared off into the distance, lost in his own thoughts, Lillian and I chatted a while longer. Eventually, a fresh wave of German fighter planes cut us short.
“Good luck,” she said to us, as we left.
“Thank you, madam,” I told her.
“Oh, Private Khan!” she replied with a smile. “I do hate being called madam. Lillian will do.”
“Lillian,” I repeated.
“And Captain?” she added.
“Yes, Miss?” he said, turning to face her.
“You are doing the right thing by these men,” she told him. “No matter what the outcome, do not forget that. Honour and duty are not always bound together. Sometimes, the most noble course of action is also the least welcome.”