Vintage Love (222 page)

The grim business of war went on. Joy returned to her office that morning to be summoned for an interview with Florence Nightingale. She found the stern-faced woman standing by a window staring out at the falling rain.

The older woman turned and studied her. “You look very well on this gray morning.”

“I feel well despite the weather,” she said.

“I hear you attended a ball at the Northumberland Hotel last night.”

“Yes,” she said, tensing and wondering what her superior might say next. Had she heard about the quarrel she’d had with Colonel Sanger?

“I was told you wore a becoming gown and tiara.”

“My mother’s.”

“Really?” the older woman said with interest. “I want you to know I have no objections to your attending such social affairs.”

“Thank you.”

“But,” Florence Nightingale said, bearing hard on the word, “I must ask you not to attend such gatherings in the company of Captain Hill.”

Joy said, “I don’t think I understand.”

“It is not difficult to realize,” the older woman said. “I warned you from the start I do not wish the smallest word of gossip about any of our young ladies. So far there has been no problem. Last night you created one. It is not seemly for you to be seen socially with this young man while you’re working together.”

“It seems rather harsh,” Joy said.

“I know,” the woman who was her superior said. “I’m asking this as a personal favor.”

“In that case I will obey you.”

“Thank you,” Florence Nightingale said. “And when Captain Hill arrives kindly tell him that Colonel Sanger has been trying to reach him. The Colonel wishes him to attend a meeting at headquarters.”

“I’ll tell him,” she promised.

Back in her own office she nervously waited for Colin to make an appearance. When he arrived about ten minutes later she spoke to him in private. Ending with, “So you see how hopeless the thought of marriage is. Miss Nightingale would never permit it.”

“Could I talk to her about it?”

“If you do she’ll dismiss me and ask you to be transferred to other duties,” she warned him. “We can best stay together by doing as she asks.”

“I feel like a hypocrite!”

“You have a more pressing concern,” she warned him. “You may be interested to hear that Colonel Sanger is waiting for you at Headquarters.”

Colin looked angry. “I can’t say I look forward to that.”

“Be smart,” she said. “Pretend to know nothing about last night.”

“I’ll see how he behaves.”

“I’ll be waiting here for you to return. I’m anxious to know what he says.”

Colin took her in his arms for a moment. “Two people in love and all these barriers,” he said sadly.

After he left she kept busy answering some correspondence. All the while she worried about what might be occurring at the meeting between Colin and Colonel Sanger. She pictured all kinds of grim developments. Perhaps the vindictive Sanger had a plan to transfer Colin to other duties. She prayed this wouldn’t happen.

An hour passed before her handsome lover returned. He came into her office with a strange look on his bronzed face. “Well, here I am,” he said.

She rose and went to him. “What happened?”

“Sanger didn’t even mention you.”

“I can’t believe it!”

“Not a word,” Colin said. “It was very odd. He acted as though I’d never introduced you to him last night.”

“What did he talk about?”

“Almost everything but the ball.”

She frowned. “I don’t like it. I’d rather he’d complained. I have an idea he isn’t finished with us yet.”

“He’s complaining about our method of listing stores,” the young Captain said. “I pointed out it’s too late to change now.”

“And?”

“He kept insisting. I finally told him I’d have to refer it to Miss Nightingale.”

“It’s strictly my department,” Joy said. “And I’m sure Colonel Sanger knows that.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. No need to bother Miss Nightingale, she’d only refer you back to me.”

Colin said, “You know you’re right. He’s probably doing this deliberately.”

She nodded. “Part of his plan to harrass me,” she said. “I wonder what he’ll come up with next?”

Joy was busy at her desk the next morning when Captain Colin Hill suddenly appeared. She could tell at once that he was upset about something. As soon as possible she dismissed the nurse who had been writing down some instructions, so that she might speak with the young officer she loved alone.

Colin’s handsome face was solemn. “I’m afraid you were right when you said an immediate wedding was out of the question.”

She stared up at a small shadow crossing his face. “What has happened?”

“I’ve had special orders for the transport of some forty nurses and myself.”

Her eyes widened. “Then that means?”

“There’s a ship waiting for our party.”

“When?”

“I shouldn’t discuss this before I’ve spoken to Miss Nightingale,” he said. “But you’ll know soon enough. We are scheduled to sail for the Crimea at dawn tomorrow.”

“Colin!” she spoke his name with emotion.

He took her in his arms with a sad smile. “So you see how well you predicted things. Our marriage will have to wait.”

“It makes no difference,” she said gently. “We have our love and each other.”

“I would have wished it otherwise,” Colin said. “But at least we’ll be together.” And he pressed his lips to hers for a moment which would certainly have caused a scandal had anyone happened to enter the office.

In the weeks and months which followed, Joy was to often think of that night she and Colin had shared at Berkeley Square. As it turned out, it was to be one of their few intimate times for a painfully long while. After frantic hours of preparation, the ship bearing Florence Nightingale and her intrepid band of nurses set sail in a rain-drenched dawn.

It was the start of a tedious and uneventful voyage in a crowded vessel. Joy and Colin sought each other out whenever it was possible. But she had still to complete her training lectures for some of the last minute additions to the nursing corps. While Colin’s duties as liaison officer for the group was becoming more difficult each day, as dozens of unexpected problems turned up. The vessel carried a number of regular troops and stores so that it was crowded to capacity, making the voyage an uncomfortable one.

Several times they encountered stormy seas, and there was a plague of seasickness. Not until they reached the comparative calm of the Aegean Sea did the voyage become more endurable. Joy was continually more impressed by the way her beloved Colin carried out his duties on the vessel. Somehow he managed to make the nursing corps comfortable without antagonizing the troops in their jammed quarters.

His work was not missed by Florence Nightingale who confided in Joy, “We are most fortunate in having Captain Hill with us. I’m sure the adventures would have gotten off to a disastrous start otherwise.”

Joy smiled. “I’m glad you are of that opinion. I surely agree.”

The older woman told her, “Be sure to let him know how highly I regard him.”

At last the long voyage came to an end. On November 4th, 1854, Florence Nightingale led her hardy little band of nurses onto the docks at Scutari. The first contingent of English nurses had landed in Turkey. Scutari was situated on the southern shore of the Bosphorus, just across the water from Istanbul.

One of the first things they did was make a tour of the large Barrack Hospital. Florence Nightingale, accompanied by Joy and Colin, were led through the building by a young officer. Everything was in wretched condition and they became depressed. Florence Nightingale halted at the entrance of a large, bleak ward in which two dozen beds were placed close by one another on either side, with a narrow corridor between the forty-eight beds. Her plain face showed dismay. She asked their guide, “Are we supposed to care for the wounded in this place?”

The young officer was apologetic. “I agree it is not ideal, Miss Nightingale. But it is the only building available.”

The veteran nurse gazed around and complained, “But this makes no sense! Fresh air, pure water, and sunlight are of the most importance in hospital care. We can offer none of these here!”

Colin, who looked weary and exasperated, explained, “I must admit we have inherited this mess. We must really blame the Turks. They have neglected the hospital shamefully and now are kind enough to turn it over to us.”

Florence Nightingale said bitterly, “If this is the sort of cooperation we’re going to get I’d better find transport back to England for my girls.”

Colin sighed. “Give me a few days. I’ll do everything I can to get this barracks into some sort of decent condition.”

“It is bad,” Joy was forced to agree.

Their guide grimaced. “You don’t know the worst of it, Miss. The place is infested with bedbugs and fleas, along with huge rats.”

“I’m sure it is,” Florence Nightingale agreed. She shivered. “And it’s so cold!”

“We’ll get to work at once on cleaning the place,” Colin said. “Then we’ll have to find some sort of emergency heating to make it habitable.”

Florence Nightingale asked the guide, “Well, we know the worst about the hospital. What about our living quarters?”

The young officer brightened. “No worry there, Miss. It’s clean and there is plenty of heat.”

Colin gave the veteran nurse a knowing smile. “At least your group will have a spot to retreat to for comfort. Colonel Sanger has his offices and living quarters in the same building so you may be assured it will be well looked after.”

Florence Nightingale looked grim. “That would follow!”

So the struggle to turn the filthy barracks into a suitable hospital began. Colin was given a large crew drawn from his regiment to spearhead the cleaning and repairs. As soon as a suitable area was prepared, Joy moved in with her staff and began unpacking their medical supplies.

She was busy one morning when Florence Nightingale came in to check on their progress. After satisfying herself that all was going well, the veteran nurse went to the window and looked at the bleak countryside. She said, “Those great mountains capped with snow remind me of the Alps.”

“I had never expected it to be so cold,” she said.

The older woman turned to her with a sigh. “It would be bad enough to face caring for the wounded here in ordinary weather. But we have encountered freezing temperatures.”

Joy nodded. “I’m wearing four layers of clothing. But Captain Hill promises the wards will be heated.”

“Good! But we have not fit kitchens! There is no proper sewage system! Is it any wonder the death rate among our troops is a shocking sixty percent?”

“We must do better,” Joy said earnestly. “In another few days we will be in operation.”

The wounded literally poured in as soon as they opened their doors. Joy was in no way prepared for the deluge of human wreckage! She had thought that in Vienna’s mental hospital she had witnessed the ultimate in horror. But this was another sort of nightmare! And the haste and primitive conditions in which she found herself forced to work were incredible!

It was a veritable inferno! The proud, young men who she had seen marching into battle were now being returned to the hospital in piteous condition! The bloodied, mutilated bodies on the stretchers gave out a chorus of moans.

The doctors worked with frenzied speed. When the bodies first arrived, the initial task was to separate the living from those who had died en route. Then the hopelessly wounded were placed to one side while first attention was given to those who might be saved. The walking wounded might wait for hours, sometimes for a harrowing day and night, before a doctor could give them any attention. Infection, the insidious enemy of all army hospitals, was killing almost as many men as bullets.

The courageous little band of nurses could not have guessed what it would be like. The novices without previous hospital experience were shocked into a state of numbness by the nightmare of it all. Joy spent much of her few hours of off-time duty trying to reassure these girls, and give them the courage to return to their duties again.

Florence Nightingale was kept busy in her office much of the time dealing with the overall handling of the situation. Joy was with her one day when a grim-faced Colin came to join them. He said, “Cheer up, ladies! Colonel Sanger and his entourage have just arrived. From now on he will be making his offices here. True to type, he’s taking the best rooms in the living quarters for himself!”

Florence Nightingale let out a small cry of despair and sat back in her chair. Forlornly, she said, “I’d almost rather welcome the Russians than Colonel Sanger.”

Joy nodded. “At least they admit to being our enemy.”

Colin said, “Don’t worry too much, ladies. If he gets beyond himself there is always a higher authority. And I shall not hesitate to complain if his actions make it necessary.”

Later in the evening, Joy and Colin spent an hour together in her room. It was not easily arranged, she had taken her roommate, a girl from Liverpool, into her confidence. And she had readily agreed to make herself scarce. So they had a secret rendezvous in the tiny, cubicle warmed by a small iron stove and lit with candles.

The bed was hard, but seemed like a thing of luxury as she and her handsome officer made love on it. Afterward, Colin leaned on an elbow and stared at her as their naked bodies lay close together under the blankets.

He said, “I’m afraid we’re going to have trouble of a new sort with Sanger on the scene.”

“As if we didn’t have enough problems with the hospital!”

“He’ll ignore the sufferings of the wounded, and all your desperate efforts, while he concentrates on petty rules and regulations,” Colin said bitterly. “I know the type.”

“And he’s bound to still harbor hate for me!”

“He’d be wise not to show it,” Colin said darkly.

“I’m sure I can manage him,” Joy said.

“Let me do that,” Colin told her as he gently touched her cheek with his hand, and then clasped her to him again.

Trouble began the following morning when the moon-faced Colonel Sanger visited their office in the company of Colin and two younger officers of his staff. The arrogant Sanger glared at Florence Nightingale and Joy, who was standing by her superior’s desk. His first volley was, “May I inform you the War Office in London is disturbed by your request for more nurses.”