Audrey felt herself blushing. “Yes. It is.”
They barely had time to settle into their new living quarters at the hospital before their ordeal began. The new weapon with its seemingly random civilian targets had caused morale in the city to plummet again after the success of the long-awaited D-Day invasion. As soon as the report of a V-1 strike came in, Audrey and Eve had to jump into their vehicle and race to the scene, steeling themselves for the grisly sight of mangled bodies and severed limbs. St. Thomas’s Hospital was directly across the Thames River from Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, the Ministry of Defense, the Foreign Office, the Treasury. Buckingham Palace was a little farther on. All prime targets for enemy missiles.
They had just reported for duty at the hospital on a clear Sunday morning a few days later when air-raid sirens wailed. A huge, window-rattling explosion quickly followed. Eve stood, grabbing her medical kit. “Here we go again.”
Audrey stood as well, her skin tingling. “That sounded close. On the other side of the Thames, I’m guessing. Where all the government buildings are.” The telephone lines sprang to life.
“A V-1 struck Guards’ Chapel on Birdcage Walk,” the dispatcher told them.
“I know where that is,” Eve said. “Right next to Wellington Barracks.”
“A worship service was in progress, with soldiers and civilians in the congregation. Casualties will be in the hundreds. Go!”
“That’s a stone’s throw from Buckingham Palace,” Audrey said as she and Eve raced to their vehicle with the other drivers. Every doctor and nurse who could be spared accompanied them.
Eve jumped behind the wheel and they drove across Westminster Bridge, alarm bells clanging. They drove past the Houses of Parliament and saw St. James’s Park ahead on the right. A huge plume of dust billowed in the sky above the stricken chapel. Leaves and pine needles littered the roadway, blasted off the trees in the park by the explosion. A cloud of choking dust enveloped the block as they arrived, but it couldn’t hide a scene of utter devastation. Guardsmen from the nearby barracks worked to clear a path for the ambulances, directing them to park as close to the demolished chapel as possible. Doctors and nurses leaped from the rear of the ambulances.
“The missile nose-dived straight into the chapel roof,” one of the guardsmen said. “The building collapsed on top of the congregation before anyone could get out. There may be as many as three hundred people trapped inside.”
“Is there a way for us to tunnel in and tend to the injured?” one of the doctors asked. “We can offer morphine until they’re dug out from the debris.”
“The main doors to the chapel are blocked. The heavy rescue teams are still searching for a way inside. We’ll let you know as soon as they find one.”
Audrey stood beside Eve and the medical teams as they waited, feeling helpless. She stared at the toppled walls and caved-in roof, wondering how anyone could possibly survive. She relived the same nightmare that had haunted her dreams since the war began as she gazed at mounds of bricks and stones and jagged timbers and heard shattered glass crunching beneath the workers’ feet. And always, she was aware that helpless people were suffering, dying.
The rescue teams signaled for silence. Audrey held her breath as they listened for moans and faint cries for help. Then came shouts from the rescue workers. “Over here!” Guardsmen from the barracks joined the digging, freeing the first victims and carrying the living to the waiting ambulances.
“You drive to hospital, Eve,” Audrey said. “It’s such a short distance. I’ll stay here and help with triage.” She knew how to apply pressure to a bleeding wound, fasten a tourniquet, soothe terrified patients. Workers had tunneled into the interior of the chapel, and Audrey watched the courageous doctors and nurses crawl into the debris to administer morphine to trapped victims.
As quickly as survivors were located and dug free, ambulances transported them to hospital, then raced back for more. The task was endless and agonizing, the dead and dying outnumbering the living. When Audrey’s composure began to crumble beneath the weight of suffering, she and Eve swapped tasks.
Forty-eight hours passed before the last of the victims were freed and Audrey and Eve had a chance to sleep. The final toll, she was told, included 121 dead and 141 seriously injured. The chaplain from the morning worship service was among the dead, along with several senior British Army officers and a US Army colonel.
Audrey wondered if the suffering would ever end. The V-1 bombs continued to fall on London throughout the month of June, meaning that Audrey and Eve were always on call, working day and night. If they weren’t driving, they were keeping their vehicle in good repair, the engine cleaned from clogging dust, the tires checked for punctures from broken glass. Audrey learned to recognize the ominous buzz of the V-1 bombs, which the Londoners had nicknamed doodlebugs. She experienced a new, heart-pounding fear when forced to wait, holding her breath, during the interminable moments between when the stuttering motor halted and when the deafening explosion finally came. No one could predict where or when the missiles would fall. Letters from Robert became her lifeline, short and hastily written, but a joy to read and reread at the end of a grueling day. He was still in England, keeping the air base running and the airplanes flying, providing air support for the battles raging on the Continent.
We’ve heard terrible reports of the V-1 bombings in London, he wrote. I worry about you, Audrey, my love.
She assured him she was safe. I’m learning to put my sensitivities aside and administer first aid when needed, she wrote back. One must get used to the sight of blood to be of any help at all. Perhaps I’ll be a real nurse by the end of the war. As the endless weeks and months passed, she and Robert longed for the day when they would see each other again. Neither of them had any idea when that day would be.
“You two ladies deserve a break,” Eve’s supervisor told her and Audrey one lovely September morning. “How would you like to go for a ride outside London?”
Eve longed for the forest, the scent of pine and moss and damp earth. “That sounds wonderful! Where are we going?”
“We borrowed one of our ambulances from another unit and we’d like you to return it. I understand you’re both from a nearby village.”
Eve couldn’t have imagined anything better. She could see her old friends, visit the cemetery, walk in the woods. Audrey would see Robert, and maybe Louis could get an evening off to go dancing. Eve felt a thrill of anticipation at the thought of laughing with Louis, dancing in the comfort of his arms.
“I’ll drive. You can nap,” Eve offered, sliding behind the wheel. “You don’t want Robert to see you with dark circles beneath your eyes, do you?” Audrey looked bone weary after months of demanding work. She was dozing before they reached London’s outskirts.
The familiar countryside soothed Eve. How wonderful to leave behind the signs of war and ruined lives and the stress of coping with V-1 missiles. She was driving through an idyllic village, thinking how untouched by hardship it seemed, when she heard a motorcycle approaching behind her. She checked her rearview mirror to see if the driver wanted to overtake her. There was no motorcycle. Nor was one approaching in front of her. Her heart stopped when she realized what it was.