Chapter 20 #2
Tilly realised the seriousness of the situation if officers were prepared to shoot their own men rather than put everyone else at risk.
She struggled to see how this evacuation could possibly happen and, even if it did, how they could all be saved.
Would they be among those left behind? There was no way of knowing.
What the evidence of her eyes told her was that the men numbered thousands and the boats added up, at this moment in time, to none.
She decided to get on and deal with a statistic she could do something about: the number of wounded.
Tilly, Fliss and Yvette proceeded to administer morphine to those in dire need around them and then search for water to provide for those who could not walk.
As they waited through the night, the only thing that reassured them was that the German tanks did not attack.
But at first light, if they had not left the shores of France by then, they would be taken prisoner by the German army.
The night seemed long and Tilly couldn’t sleep.
She saw that Jed was moving among the badly wounded, tending to them and offering them the last of his cigarettes, so she went to join him.
They did what they could for the men and then walked away from the sleeping figures on the ground.
Tilly had never been a smoker; when Jed offered her a drag on his, she accepted.
It brought her closer to him and, even in these impossible circumstances, she gained comfort from knowing that he was close by.
He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him.
Their lips touched and Tilly knew that this American from another world entirely, stirred something in her that she had never felt before.
What a time to fall in love, she told herself.
You do pick your moments, Tilly Truscott.
Why not a nice young doctor on the Isle of Wight or a GP in rural Hampshire?
You could do a midwifery course and spend your days delivering babies for your husband’s practice, she told herself.
No, that would be far too sensible. Anyway, put it out of your mind, Tilly.
None of us can plan a future, we can only survive today and hope we see tomorrow. Enjoy the moment.
Jed took her hand and looked very seriously into Tilly’s eyes.
‘I can’t deny, Nurse Tilly,’ he said, ‘that I do like kissing you and I would like to do it again and again. Listen, when we get to the other side, don’t just disappear on me, do you hear?
I want to make sure we don’t lose touch.
When we touch English shores, you will go home to your family, I guess? ’
Tilly nodded in reply.
‘And I will be billeted near a hospital so that I can carry on with my work, until they send me back out there again,’ Jed said. ‘We front-line surgeons are not easy to find. They will send me back out for sure. So, give me your address. I stand a better chance of finding you, than you finding me.’
He fished a scrap of paper and a pencil out of his army jacket and wrote down: The School House, Whippingham, Isle of Wight.
‘Listen, it will be a bun fight when those boats arrive,’ said Jed. ‘When it’s our turn to board, stick close to me. We must make sure we get on. You don’t want to be taken prisoner, believe me.’
Tilly hoped that they would both get aboard a boat and be taken to safety.
She tried to put the hopelessness of their situation out of her mind and hold on to the fragile hope that, eventually, they would meet again.
They rested as much as they could for the night, slumped against packs and bags and huddled together for warmth.
The sun was just coming up when she was woken by the sounds of men cheering.
A flotilla of small boats and a battlecruiser were headed for the shore.
She watched, astounded, as the small boats filled with soldiers and left in groups.
‘We all thought that the last of those small boats had come to help us. They’ve been arriving over the last few days and taking as many of us as they could,’ one badly injured man on crutches said.
‘Please God they can take the rest of us.’ He wept, crossing himself.
‘If I have to stay here, I’ll die. The Germans shoot the seriously ill and the disabled. ’
Tilly was relieved to see him board the last small boat.
The only ship left now was the cruiser. They stood in line, hoping beyond hope.
They were finally given the order to board.
The mole swelled with bodies, all shuffling as one towards their escape route.
Tilly and Fliss were both supporting soldiers with bad injuries.
Tilly held the arm of a soldier with a broken leg, a bandaged stomach and a severe eye injury.
Progress was difficult and they were getting pushed further and further back.
She could see Jed’s back disappearing in front of her and Fliss did not appear to be moving along at the same pace as her.
They were both disappearing from view. Tilly and her injured soldier were falling behind.
He had a head injury and he’d been blinded by shrapnel, but at least he could walk.
Fliss had disappeared into the crowd, but Tilly’s charge couldn’t keep up.
He stumbled and fell, and the other soldiers, forcing forwards with the momentum, trampled right over him.
She heard him cry out with a throaty scream, like an animal dying in pain, and knelt down to help him.
Try as she might, she couldn’t get him to his feet.
She could see that the boat line was being thrown on board and that the able-bodied were scrambling to jump on board before it left.
A soldier grabbed her arm and said, ‘Leave him, love. You’ll have to leave him or you’ll be left behind too. He’s almost done for anyway. Look at him. His guts are hanging out.’
Tilly threw him a look that told exactly what she felt about this response. She held the boy’s hand, for he couldn’t have been more than eighteen. The boy looked up at her and whispered, ‘Don’t leave me.’
Tilly watched as the last men jumped into the boat, some of them landing in the water. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she said.