Over there, p.12
Over There, page 12
We are sending a package to you with things we think you might be missing. Please write and tell us what you need and if we can get our hands on it, we’ll be sure to send it right away.
How are your duties? It’s hard to imagine you as a nurse but we know you’re doing a fine job. Are you meeting lots of nice nurses? You’ve always been so good at making friends, I am sure they surround you over there.
Please be safe and know that you are in our prayers always. We are both very proud of you, Ruth.
Love,
Mother
****
The next morning, Ruth woke up in stages. She had the sensation of being pulled up through layers of concrete, each one thinner than the last until finally, she was awake. Her head was pounding from the previous night’s liquor and she felt awful. She looked around the bunkroom. It was still very early morning and the room was quiet, unusually so. Many of the bunks were occupied, tired nurses sleeping hard after playing hard. Some were empty; those would be the night shift nurses. The empty beds were neatly made, an unspoken courtesy by the women. It could be difficult living in such close quarters, with little space and less privacy, but keeping your area neat and tidy was easy enough and appreciated by everyone.
She turned over in her bed, relishing the silence, and stretched out. The bed beside her, Tess’s, was empty, with Tess apparently already on duty. A little smile found its way to Ruth’s still tired face as she thought of Tess efficiently making her bed, tucking in the corners as if her life depended on it. Ruth had watched the procedure numerous times and thought it amusing that, in the midst of all of this chaos, Tess put such effort and pride in something as ordinary as making her bunk. Tess always turned back for a final look at the bed before she left the room, as if to make sure it looked ship-shape from all angles.
The rest of Tess’s small area revealed little about the woman. The small bedside table held a single picture of an older man and woman, Tess’s parents presumably. Unlike many of the others, Tess didn’t keep any memorabilia or reminders of loved ones on her table. It was all business. Just like Tess. Ruth wondered if somewhere in Tess’s things there was a photo of Rose, hidden away like Tess’s pain.
****
“How’d this kid get in here?” The surgeon had been up for twenty-fours straight and operating through most of that time. He was exhausted and had no patience for the intrusion. Besides, the damn kid reminded him of his own small son at home and that was something he couldn’t deal with, not when he was over here and not when he was in the middle of a surgery that likely wouldn’t save his patient’s life.
“Sorry, Doctor,” Ruth said. She glared at the boy over her mask and jerked her head toward the door. “Go, Gabriel.”
The young boy scampered off. Despite her fierce countenance, Gabriel knew that Ruth wasn’t angry with him. She smiled underneath her mask, thinking about the chocolate and hard-boiled eggs that she had held for him. She knew he would return to the nurse’s quarters that evening, around dinnertime, to see if any of the women had anything for him.
“We should turn him in,” Delilah had said. She was a nurse from Arkansas, very much by the book. “His parents are probably looking for him.”
“Delilah, open your eyes. His parents are dead. That’s why he’s coming around. Poor kid doesn’t have anyone but us,” Lorna chided. She had a big heart, this New York girl from a huge family. She always saved something for the boy, her soul hurting at the thought of him growing up alone when she had been blessed with such a big, wonderful family.
“Still. The authorities should know. They would take him somewhere.” Delilah wasn’t giving up.
“I hate to tell you, sweetie, but rounding up orphans isn’t tops on the priority list these days,” another nurse chimed in.
“All right, you hens,” the surgeon scolded. “Enough. Deal with your hard-luck cases later. For now, we’re trying to save this kid.”
****
The OR had been particularly gruesome. A platoon had been firebombed and the hospital saw a rash of burn victims, some so badly burned that they were barely recognizable as human. Ruth had to sniff her perfumed handkerchief several times to keep from being sick. She could see in the other nurses’ eyes over their masks that they were struggling, too. She remembered hearing the Pearl Harbor reports, how horrified she had been at the images she imagined from the burning U.S.S. Arizona. The things she had seen since then, including today, were far, far worse than anything she had ever imagined.
****
That night, Ruth fingered the hard candies in the pocket of her uniform as she stood outside of the hospital. The street was a jumble of concrete and building rubble but enough had been cleared away to allow for some semblance of movement and activity. Few people were out, however, as there could always be a bombing. Still, Ruth craved fresh air and a respite from the hospital. She closed her eyes against the weak sunlight and imagined she was back home, lying on a hammock in the back yard, with a glass of lemonade in her hand and not a care in the world. If she had felt like a teenager when she left America, she certainly felt like an adult now, and she was aware on some level that she had missed a step somewhere in between. The brutality of war, the pace of her days, the things she had seen…each had made Ruth a different person. She couldn’t decide if it had made her a better person, but certainly a different one.
She knew that Gabriel would be making his rounds soon and hoped to see him. Seeing the boy always raised her spirits, even if she had to force herself not to think of his orphaned state. After a day like today’s in the OR, she needed a lift. In addition to the candies, which she had saved from a package from home, Ruth had another surprise for Gabriel.
Fifteen minutes later, Ruth broke into a wide smile when she saw the slight child turn the corner. When he saw his favorite nurse, Gabriel too grinned and began to run toward her.
“Wait!” Ruth called out.
Gabriel stopped short, confused. Even children learned that when your city is a warzone, any admonition to wait or not move was to be taken seriously.
“Hold on,” Ruth said. She reached into her pocket and extracted a small ball, another prize from home, sent at her request for this exact purpose. “Can you catch?”
Gabriel’s body untensed and he laughed aloud. “Very well, thank you. Give me a toss!”
Ruth performed an exaggerated wind-up and sailed the ball toward the boy, who caught it neatly with one hand. He threw it back, using a gentle underhand. The ball fell short.
“Don’t take it easy on me!” Ruth said as she moved to pick up the ball. She threw it back and crouched into a catcher’s stance.
“All right then!” Gabriel threw the ball hard and accurately. When Ruth caught it cleanly, he cheered.
The two played catch for nearly half an hour, ignoring their bleak surroundings and what the rest of the day held for them. For that brief moment in time, it was just a boy and a young woman laughing, bragging, and playing.
“This was the best day in a long time,” Gabriel said, giving Ruth a shy hug after they ended their game.
“Yes, it was,” Ruth said, resting her chin on top of the boy’s head. “Yes, it was.”
Chapter Twenty
“Anyone who’s available needs to fall in for a field run,” Midgie yelled from the doorway of the bunkroom.
The nurses started moving immediately. “What’s happened, Midgie?” Ruby asked.
“Another bombing. One of the neighborhoods is a terrible wreck. They want us to canvas the area for survivors and tend to the civilians.” Midgie looked grave, which was unusual for her personality. “Better hurry,” she said before rushing off.
Ruth had one thought…Gabriel. Something in her heart told her she had to find Gabriel. She pulled on her uniform and raced out of the room, not waiting for the others.
****
Midgie had been right; the neighborhood was a disaster zone. Ruth coughed, trying to clear the hot dust from her lungs. What once had been a delightful little area, full of thriving shops and cozy homes, was now nearly unrecognizable.
Ruth carefully stepped around piles of rubble. She saw a woman’s severed arm in pile, a shredded tatter of flowered cloth still on it. The body that it had been connected to was nowhere in sight. She forced herself to continue. She had to find Gabriel. She would help look for other survivors later.
“Ma’am!” a voice called out.
Ruth looked to see a young English soldier kneeling over a body. She couldn’t tell if the body was dead or alive. Or if it was an adult or child. She rushed over.
“You’re a nurse; please help my friend,” the soldier said. His voice and barely there facial stubble revealed his youth. His own condition looked grave—one arm hung uselessly to his side and ominous dark blood was dripping from his nose.
His friend looked even worse and Ruth was sure that he would be dead within the hour. A massive head wound was the most obvious injury and only the bloody street held his brain inside of his cracked skull. His eyes were closed and a grimace was what would be his final expression. Ruth caressed the man’s forehead. “Poor soul,” she whispered.
“Can you help him?” his friend asked. His eyes were wide and scared and Ruth could see that he trusted her.
Ruth wondered if blind hope or shock made the friend believe that the man lying on the road could be saved. She couldn’t lie to the man and she didn’t have time to linger. Gabriel was out there somewhere.
“I’m sorry, but he is too seriously injured to be saved. He is going to die. You need to stay here until help can come for you.” She patted the soldier’s hand and left him without another word. She didn’t look back; she couldn’t. She knew if she turned around to see the young man’s face, she might have stayed and she simply couldn’t do that. She had to find Gabriel; after all, he was just a boy and he was alone.
The city was a disaster zone and not for the first time Ruth wondered if the people back home in the United States had any idea what it was like in Europe. She wondered if it was possible to convey the horror in a letter home or a news article. No, she decided. It is not. She knew that for herself, if she wasn’t seeing the sights for herself, with her own eyes, she never would have believed that men could be so cruel to one another as to destroy towns and people with such mercenary resolve.
Ruth continued to search, looking at every pile of rubble and calling Gabriel’s name. Thirty minutes after leaving the English soldier and his doomed friend, she encountered a medical party. After giving directions to the soldier’s location, Ruth felt a lightness and sense of happiness for a moment, a small sliver of hope. It was enough to give her strength to keep going. She hoped that the young soldier would be saved, even if his friend would not. So many boys would not be going home; she wanted desperately to think that she had helped at least that one on his way.
It was in that moment that Ruth looked up and saw a sight that brought instant tears to her eyes. Gabriel was one hundred yards in front of her. She blinked, wondering if exhaustion and emotion were making her eyes play tricks on her. He was still there. He was climbing on a pile of rubble, trying to get into a bakery storefront. His clothes were dirty but there he was, alive and well.
“Gabriel!” Ruth shouted joyfully.
Gabriel leaned backward from the pile at the sound of his name and spotted Ruth. A bright smile emerged and he waved. The boy climbed atop the pile and grabbed a partially destroyed ledge to pull himself up to an upper level balcony apartment above the bakery. “Look at me! I’ve found some bread!”
Ruth hurried toward the bakery. Her heart soared at the sight of Gabriel and his beautiful smile. “Good boy,” she yelled through a cupped hand. Leave it to Gabriel to find something good in a disaster like this, she thought.
At that moment, the balcony ledge upon which Gabriel was standing crumbled, sending him plummeting to the pile of rubble below. He let loose a short yelp right before the third level of the side of the building, weakened by the loss of its supporting level, slid down and buried him in a pile of rock and debris. The heavy building material sheeting down the wall made a horrific and sickening sound. Ruth had no way of knowing that the sound she had just heard was one that would play out in her mind for years and years to come.
Ruth froze, horrified. A small puff of rock dust floated up from the pile. Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. “Oh my God!” Ruth cried. Her legs refused to move.
Two American soldiers in uniform patrolling the area rushed toward the bakery from the other direction. They pawed frantically at the rubble, throwing pieces to the side as they dug. Their hands quickly became bloodied as the rough edges were ignored and grabbed. The men’s faces held a grim determination as if they couldn’t bear to see another casualty this day. Still, Ruth could not move. Abruptly, the men stopped. They looked at each other and sagged.
Finally, Ruth found her legs. She covered the distance to the bakery, screaming Gabriel’s name. Before she could get to the pile, one of the men met her and blocked her access.
“No, lady. Don’t come any closer.”
“Gabriel! I need to see him.”
“I’m sorry. He’s gone.”
Ruth stared at the man. She looked at his dirty, dusty face and sad eyes and knew that she would never forget what he looked like as long as she lived. “No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Just let me see him,” she said, trying to push past the man.
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “No. You don’t want to do that.”
Ruth was angry now. The anger felt better than the alternative. “I’m a nurse, for God’s sakes. I’ve seen death.”
“You haven’t seen this.”
Ruth looked again at the sad eyes. She knew he was right. “Did he suffer?” she asked. It was a silly question. The soldier had no idea.
But this soldier was a kind man. What he had seen under the debris would haunt him for the rest of his life, more than anything else he would see during the war. He gave Ruth a gift. “He didn’t feel anything at all. He didn’t suffer. I promise.”
Ruth nodded, forcing herself not to cry. “Thank you.” With that, she turned around on one heel and walked all of the way back to the barracks.
****
Ruth ignored the greetings of several nurses and a doctor as she made her way through the hospital and toward the bunkroom. She didn’t want to see anybody; she didn’t want to talk to anybody. She just wanted to lie down and close her eyes. She prayed that when she closed her eyes, she would be able to shut down the part of her brain that was creating fearsome images of what young Gabriel’s body must have looked like under that rubble.
The bunkroom was nearly empty, with a couple of nurses sitting on a bed, playing cards and talking quietly. Ruth headed toward her bunk and frowned when she saw it was stripped down to the old, worn mattress. She had taken all of her bedding and washed it and it now was drying in the laundry area. She sat on the edge of the bed, feeling adrift.
Poor Gabriel, poor sweet boy, she thought. She pictured his face and bright smile, the warm eyes that held such hope despite being in such a hopeless place. She wondered if she could have taken him home with her to Indiana. It was silly, she knew. But what if? She could see him riding his bicycle with other boys along the streets, a baseball card attached in his spokes. It was what a boy his age should be doing, not scavenging for bread in a warzone with no parents to go home to.
The unfairness of the war washed over Ruth. The anger came quickly and galvanized her. She couldn’t go through this again. Why had she let herself become attached to the boy? He was just a boy, a stranger. She vowed not to let herself expose her heart to such pain again. She was here to do a job, that’s what she would do.
“You okay?”
Ruth looked up to see Tess peering at her, her face revealing concern. She realized that her own face had tightened with determination and anger, prompting Tess’s inquiry.
“Fine, thank you.”
Tess sat on her own bed and looked at Ruth. “You don’t look fine. Someone said you had gone out after the bombing, to look for the boy. Did you find him?”
The resolve flickered inside of Ruth. She wanted to be comforted but knew Tess wouldn’t be the one to do it. It wasn’t her style. Besides, the time to harden herself, to toughen up started now. “He was killed.”
Tess’s hand went to her mouth. “The boy?”
Ruth nodded, afraid her voice might not be able to keep up with her newfound stoicism.
“Oh my God,” Tess exclaimed. Her eyes watered. “He was just a boy.” She looked at Ruth with new eyes. “Are you okay? I know the two of you were…close.”
Ruth was ready to proclaim her invincibility but made the mistake of looking at Tess. The tears in Tess’s eyes and quiet concern in her voice pierced Ruth. She felt her throat tighten painfully and then the tears began to slice down her cheeks, their hotness a betrayal of the attempt to shut out the pain.
“No, no, you’re not, are you,” Tess said, more to herself than to Ruth.
“It’s not fair!” Ruth cried. Once those words came out, Ruth felt herself crumble internally. She felt the pain everywhere, in her heavy heart, the pit of her stomach, and the emptiness all around her.
To Ruth’s complete shock, Tess held up her open arms. She didn’t say a word, just beckoned Ruth to come over, offering her some strength.
Ruth stared at Tess for a moment before propelling herself in the open arms. It was exactly what she needed.
Tess wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman and guided her to the bed. She held her as she cried and stroked her hair gently, occasionally murmuring comforting words to Ruth.
Ruth was so upset about Gabriel that it took her several minutes to realize what was happening. Tess was showing a side of herself that Ruth wasn’t sure existed. The tenderness with which she held Ruth, the sweet tone that she was using as she spoke to her, all of these were new to Ruth. In a place below the raw grief Ruth was feeling, she knew something else was growing. She held tight to Tess, finding solace in her arms and a flicker of hope.
