Page 18 of Sisters Under The Rising Sun

‘Thank you, I do believe we have the same accommodation. But maybe there is something we can give to you.’

The nurses exchange glances amongst themselves.

‘Let me explain. I know you have only the clothes you stand in. I was on theMata Hariand lucky enough not to be shipwrecked. We were allowed to take a few meagre possessions. Others here have whole wardrobes of clothing, shoes and toiletries. Looking at you, I can confidently say there is nothing I have which would fit or suit any of you. But many of the other women have extras and we would like to offer you all a change of clothes. Some of the servicemen across the barracks have spare shorts and shirts. They won’t resemble uniforms, but they’re clean and fresh and haven’t endured a sea soaking.’

‘On behalf of us all, thank you. If there is anything we can do for you, you only have to ask,’ Nesta tells her, too moved to say more.

‘Something tells me you’ll be our lifesavers. Already, there are women and children here who need some help. Now, come with me and choose some clothes.’

They follow Margaret to her hut, where the residents stand in the dirt aisle running up the centre of the room, the concrete ‘sleeping’ slabs either side displaying an assortment of clothing.

‘This is better than Grace Brothers’ women’s department,’ one of the younger nurses exclaims.

‘What’s that?’ Margaret says.

More laughter. ‘It’s a clothing store in Melbourne,’ Nesta tells her.

‘Well, ladies, happy shopping – except, there is no cashier here to take your money.’

Slowly, the nurses walk down the aisle looking at the garments laid out before them. They don’t move to pick up a single item.

‘Oh really, come on, let’s see how this looks on you,’ one of the women announces, grabbing a dress and holding it up against a young nurse. Other women do the same and soon the hut resembles a house party.

One of the English women announces she has been given a sewing kit by a woman from a hut along the way, home to the Dutch internees. Alterations can be made if necessary.

‘Is that who we saw when we arrived here?’ one of the nurses asks.

‘Yes, I’ve learned there were many Dutch families living here. I don’t know what happened to the men, but the women and children were moved here from their homes,’ Margaret says.

‘They live here? Permanently?’ Nesta asks.

‘Their husbands probably ran the mines, so yes, they were here before the Japanese arrived and, well, they’re now like us – prisoners of war.’

Margaret watches the fun. She sees that Nesta has decided on a sarong and pair of white Navy shorts.

‘Excuse me, Nesta – can I call you by your name or should we be calling you “Sister”?’

‘It’s Sister James, but Nesta is fine.’

‘Thank you. You might hear me being called Miss Dryburgh: there are some women here who know me from my previous life and won’t hear of using my first name.’

‘Can I ask what you were doing in Singapore?’

‘I was a missionary and a teacher. I’ve been away from England for many years: first in China, then in Singapore. But enough about me, there are two women here I would like your opinion on. They have terrible rope burns from when they abandoned ship.’

‘Were they on theVyner Brooke?’

‘Yes, and, like you, only have the clothes they were wearing.’

‘Will you take me to them?’

The sisters are holding up dresses, inspecting them to see whether they might fit.

‘Norah, Ena, this is Sister James …’

‘Nesta, please.’

‘You’re one of the Australian nurses, you helped us on the wharf with my husband and we saw you on board. You sang that lovely song as we left Singapore,’ Norah says.