Page 25 of Summer in Greece

After passing through the Strait of Gibraltar, we entered the Mediterranean. The air grew warmer and we spent more free time on deck playing cricket and deck quoits. I continued to spend at least an hour each day improving my swimming.

The ship arrived at Naples on 17 November and embarked coal and water. The port seemed overwhelmed by battleships and troop carriers, both moored up and anchored off. These ships were served by barges that offloaded supplies. The vastness of the war started to enter my perception.

Amorous soldiers and sailors swarmed everywhere, and we enjoyed their wolf whistles when we were together. My heart pitter-pattered and my cheeks burned when they accosted us with this absurd flattery. However, if alone, I hated the raucous attention and flew back into the company of my colleagues. Of course, we all stuck our noses in the air and marched away; I admit to swinging my hips with a little more gusto than usual.

Our first patients boarded; six non-combatant soldiers destined to stay with us until they recovered or HMHS Britannic returned to England.

A storm whipped up mountainous seas, keeping the ship in port longer than planned, but on the Sunday afternoon, Captain Bartlett decided to take advantage of a break in the weather.

Matron Merriberry, who both inspired and terrified me, gathered a group of us to E deck as the ship prepared to leave port.

‘Nurses!’ she cried, her full bosom quivering. We stood to attention, matching her upright stance, chest out and head up. ‘I selected the eight of you to attend our new patients.’

My heart pounded; how marvellous to be chosen. I would be exemplary, people would say so.

Matron glanced at each of us in turn. ‘Look on it as an honour and an opportunity to gain as much experience as possible. Staff, or myself, will be available at all times. I want you to make the most of this unexpected chance to improve your skills.’

Fierce yet fair, they said of this woman with biceps like a man. She gave us instruction on each patient and ended with a booming, ‘Any questions?’

Barbara, straightforward as ever, raised a hand. ‘Is it possible to know where we’re headed, Matron?’

Merriberry rolled her wide shoulders and frowned, pausing for a moment to consider. ‘As we won’t meet land again until we arrive at our destination, I don’t see why you shouldn’t know.’ She drew herself up. I held my breath. ‘We are heading for the port of Mudros, on the island of Lemnos. It’s the largest hospital clearing station in Europe, thanks to the tragedy of Gallipoli last year.’

I gasped, clasped my hand over my mouth, and stared at Matron.

‘Miss Smith, is there something you wish to say?’

‘No, Matron, yes, Matron, my sister was there. I’m trying . . . in her footsteps . . . to help my parents get over their loss.’

Matron paused, unravelling my nervous words, and after staring at the floor for a second, she nodded and continued. ‘The island is home to major medical facilities and supported by hundreds of Australian nurses in their own field hospital, as well as our British force and facilities. More than a hundred thousand casualties were transported out of Mudros last time I was there. Thousands of soldiers are receiving medical care there now, and waiting to be shipped back to Britain. Numbers are rising by the hour.’

There was a stunned silence, for who could imagine that many soldiers? I glanced at our six patients. One of them caught my eye and winked. I turned my attention back to Matron, but still felt a blush burn into my cheeks. I feared I had been naïve to hope the soldiers wouldn’t give me trouble, but Matron was ahead of me. She turned towards our six patients and raised her voice.

‘Gentlemen, welcome to our fine hospital ship, the Britannic. These excellent nurses will take good care of you until we reach Mudros. However, I warn you; we have a certain amount of ice on board and I’m eager to demonstrate the procedure for an ice bath. This painful technique is known to cure certain afflictions, sometimes permanently. The slightest misbehaviour, from any of you, will give me my first subject. Is that understood?’ She glared at each in turn.

Their smiles fell.

*

HMHS Britannic left port, but the sea rose again tossing the great vessel from side to side. I hugged myself, head spinning, saliva rushing into my mouth. My first experience of mal de mare.

The promenade deck became unsafe. We secured everything that moved on E deck. Nevertheless, the area became an obstacle course. Patients threw up in their beds, and I discovered changing linen was impossible in a rolling vessel. The sea crashed across the deck from port to starboard as we pitched and tossed. In one hazardous exercise, everything not welded to the floor was brought in and lashed down by the crew.

In the salon we squealed, clutching each other in horror when we saw one poor fellow outside lifted clean off his feet, somersaulting on the crest of a wave across the deck until he was dragged to a halt by his lifeline. Those brave men clung on as they worked in the most perilous conditions.

The next morning, at six thirty, I took my usual swift walk around deck after a hurried breakfast, before going on duty at seven. A brilliant blue sky reflected on a flat, millpond sea. At last, the Greece I had imagined! I sensed the magic of this amazing country that both Sissy and Arthur had described. The warm, silky air stroked my skin. I knew I’d be swimming in the turquoise Aegean sea at the first opportunity. Distant islands broke the horizon, the scene wonderfully calm and beautiful. One would never guess there was a war going on. Lost in the beauty of it all, I was brought back to now by the first of six tolls from the ship’s bell. I peered up at the crow’s nest from where the sounds rang, then I checked Sissy’s beautiful silver watch; yes, it was just coming up to seven o’clock. I raced to the ward.

The vice-captain had completed the inspection and the night staff, gone for breakfast. The day shift, plus the doctors and surgeons, joined those tired nurses for an early morning meeting on the procedure once we arrived at Lemnos.

I, the least important person, found myself in charge of the ward for thirty minutes. Determined, I threw my shoulders back and proceeded to complete my chores. But my elation faded, as it always did. While training, I’d listened to the experiences of other nurses, afraid to think of what might lay ahead. I hadn’t foreseen work that involved the basic, bodily functions end of nursing when I signed up as a VAD. Mopping brows and changing bandages, I’d thought. Smiles from grateful soldiers. ‘Get used to it,’ Barbara had said. ‘It’s only composted food after all.’ That thought helped me a lot.

‘Sluice duty, Smith,’ Staff Nurse ordered. The stink of excrement raced up my nostrils like a slippery worm and made me shudder. ‘Then irrigate Corporal Perkins’s dressing.’

I glanced at the handsome Corporal and caught his mischievous wink.

‘What if something happens while everyone’s away?’ I asked. ‘Shall I come and get you?’ Even I knew this was an imprudent thing to say, begging for catastrophe to pounce the moment I was left alone.

‘No. Don’t come interrupting the meeting. Use your initiative, Smith,’ she replied brusquely. ‘You’ll be fine. What can possibly go wrong with six invalids who are hardly at death’s door and half a dozen bedpans, in half an hour?’