“We don’t know each other, Alfred,” she said gently, trying to reason with him.
“Yes, we do. We’ve known each other for a month. People get married during wartime with less than that.”
“They shouldn’t,” she said quietly, thinking of Will Parker. Their feelings for each other had taken off like wildfire, and that was before the war. But she had known him for two years before that.
“Will you write to me, if I write to you?” Alfred asked her, and she reluctantly nodded agreement. But what difference did it make, and what harm would it do? They’d never see each other again. “Could we say we’re engaged?” he asked hopefully, and she drew the line there.
“No, we could not,” she said firmly.
“When I come back, I’ll make you fall in love with me,” he said with determination, looking like an overgrown child.
She had other work to do. She went off duty at two a.m., and he was finally asleep. He left the hospital at eight that morning when she wasn’t on duty. His letters to her started coming within days afterwards. Desperate, frightened, anguished pleas for love and support. He had grown up in foster homes in Alabama and had no family. She felt sorry for him, and wrote to him now and then to reassure him, trying to give him the strength to survive his return to the front. His handwriting was barely legible, and she felt sorry for him. She tried to encourage him without getting too deeply involved or too personal, but in each letter he poured out his love for her. All she hoped was that he’d survive the war and be able to make a decent life for himself when it was over, with what was left of his mind by then.
There were so many like him. She was careful not to encourage Alfred romantically, but he paid no attention to whatever she wrote and continued to declare his love for her, no matter what she said. She tried to taper off her letters, but he would beg for a response, and eventually she would feel sorry for him and send him a short note. The letters finally stopped and she assumed he’d been shipped off to Europe. It was a relief not to hear from him anymore. There was so little she could do for him and the others like him. She could heal their bodies better than their minds. There were so many broken souls returning from the war, men who would never be whole again. And there would be so many more before it was over.
* * *
—
When Alex finished her nurses’ training, she was assigned to the Presidio in San Francisco. She stopped in New York for a night to see her parents, and flew out on a military flight the next day. Her father hoped that going to San Francisco didn’t mean that she would be sent on to the Pacific. She was happy to be sent far from home. For the first time, she could pursue her own life without being told how peculiar and unlike her family she was, and how disappointed they were by her. San Francisco was a fresh start. She smiled broadly when she saw the city, as she rode into town on a military shuttle bus to the Presidio. She hopped on with her suitcase and her duffel bag, excited to be there. When she got off, it took her a little while to find the nurses’ dormitory. There was a young female private in the office on the ground floor handing out room assignments to new arrivals. Alex made her way up the stairs to the room she’d been assigned. There were two beds in the room, and someone sound asleep in one of them. She assumed it was probably a nurse who’d been working all night. Alex tried to move around as quietly as she could, and put her things away in the narrow closet and an empty chest of drawers. The furniture in the room was old and battered. There were no frills or additional comforts, just the bare necessities. She didn’t mind at all. It was a relief not to be burdened with the luxuries and trappings of her youth. She was like everyone else here. It was a melting pot of all kinds of people.
She found the communal bathroom at the far end of the hall, and when she got back, the girl in the bed was sitting on the edge of it smoking a cigarette. She looked like she’d had a rough night. She’d worked a double shift the day before, which was common.
“Hi, I’m Alex White,” she said congenially, and the girl sitting on the bed smiled at her.
“I’m Lizzie Hatton. Welcome to Buckingham Palace. That’s what they call it. They gave the nurses the best dormitory.” Lizzie stood up and stretched when she said it. She was wearing pink satin pajamas with candy canes on them. “Sorry about the pajamas. My brother gave them to me for Christmas.”
“My sister wanted to give me a straitjacket when I enlisted,” Alex said and they both laughed.
“My family would have done the same,” Lizzie said and showed Alex where everything was. The room looked as bare as any army barracks, but Lizzie had put a jar of flowers on the desk to cheer the place up. “Where are you from?” Lizzie asked her. She liked the look of her. She looked friendly and nice and happy to be there. All of the nurses had enlisted, so they were pleased with their choice and rarely, if ever, complained. It was a nice change from civilian life, where everyone at the hospital where she had worked groused about everything all the time. Life was harder in the army, but they didn’t mind.
“I’m from New York,” Alex said. “You?”
“Boston,” Lizzie answered. “We lucked out with this post. It’s supposed to be one of the best in the country. And it’s three thousand miles from my parents, which is a definite plus.”
“And mine.” Alex grinned back at her, and sat down on her own bed, which she hadn’t made up yet. She’d never made her own bed in her life until she joined the army. “What ward do you work on?” she asked, curious about her new roommate. She seemed like a very nice young woman.
“General. They move me around a lot. We get a lot of shell shock and trauma cases, along with the physical stuff.” She thought of Alfred as she said it.
“I requested psychiatric, but I don’t know my assignment yet. I’ll be happy with whatever they give me.”
“You’ll love the city. It’s beautiful,” Lizzie said happily. There was something about Alex that suggested she was well brought up and well educated, but you never knew in the army, and met all kinds. They were all equal here.
Alex unpacked while they chatted, and then Lizzie went to shower and put on her uniform to go back on duty. By the time she left the room, she felt like she had a new friend. She liked the new arrival. Alex waved when she left, and Lizzie hurried down the stairs, and then walked the short distance to the hospital, thinking that she’d have to write to Audrey to tell her about her new roommate. Lizzie missed Audrey more than ever, but at least Alex seemed friendly and pleasant, and she had the feeling they’d get along. They had nursing in common and apparently parents who weren’t happy when they enlisted in the army. It was a start.
The sun was shining and she had her workday ahead of her. It was never boring here, and so far she had met a lot of women she enjoyed working with and would never have met otherwise. It confirmed her belief that she had made the right decision enlisting in the army. As Alex watched her from the window, she was thinking the same thing. Becoming an army nurse had been the right answer for her too. Lizzie Hatton looked like she’d make a good friend. They were young, they were in a safe place. It was a plum assignment, compared to other bases. And despite the war, there were good people around them. The doctors were excellent, the nurses were happy to be there, and they were making a difference to the men they took care of, while serving their country. What more could they want? It was more than enough for Lizzie and Alex. And if they couldn’t heal all the broken bodies and minds, they were doing all they could. Lizzie realized that maybe for the first time in her life, she felt fully alive. And for once, just being a nurse seemed like enough. This was her life now, and everything she wanted.