Page 6 of Sisters Under The Rising Sun

Nesta is the first nurse by her side. She feels for the girl’s pulse in her neck and checks her eyes. ‘She’s gone, I’m sorry; there’s nothing we can do for her,’ she tells Norah.

‘We need to leave her, Norah. I’m sorry, my darling, but we have to get off this ship,’ John whispers. ‘We’ll have to swim for land.’

Once again, the two women help John to walk as they are swept up by the crowds trying desperately to reach the lifeboats.

Matrons Paschke and Drummond are still below deck; they will make sure everyone is above or on their way up before they leave. An eerie sense of calm pervades the room as the passengers shuffle out, but then comes a woman’s cry.

‘Stop! Everybody stand still!’

The world is in chaos, the ship is sinking, the wounded are dying, but everybody freezes at the shrill voice.

‘My husband has dropped his glasses,’ the woman announces.

As ridiculous as their situation is, both matrons and many of the passengers begin to laugh before pushing on up the stairs.

The drills each nurse has practised now come into play. Nesta’s team, less two nurses who never made it on deck, begin to help women and children into the lifeboats. Above the noise, the distress, the cries ofhelp mefrom the injured and terrified, Matron Paschke issues instructions in her clear, patient voice. Lifeboats full, children are using the rope ladders to lower themselves into the sea, their parents behind them.

‘I’ll go in first,’ Ena tells Norah. ‘You help John, then join us.’

Ena grabs hold of a rope dangling over the side of the ship. The rope runs through her fingers as she slides down into the water. Immediately, John lands beside her, having taken the quicker route and jumped. His life jacket brings him to the surface and Ena reaches out to grab him. She screams as her hand closes around his arm. Her palms are scraped raw and bloody from the friction of the rope. She waves frantically to Norah, yelling, ‘Jump! Norah, jump, don’t use the rope.’

Seeing Ena waving, Norah grabs the rope, lowers herself over the side and slides down.

John sees Ena’s hands and as Norah hits the water, he frantically tries to swim towards her, knowing she too will be registering the pain of rope burns and torn flesh.

But they don’t have time to nurse their wounds, they have to get away from the sinking ship. John rejects their help; he knows he is on his own, and must now find whatever strength remains to him to help them.

With the seamless flow of men, women and children entering either the lifeboats or the water, Nesta registers the dwindling numbers remaining on deck. Nearby, a passenger thrusts a small boy into the arms of one of the crewmen.

‘Matron, over here, we have a lifeboat for you both.’

Nesta watches as Matrons Paschke and Drummond are helped into the remaining lifeboat. The ship lurches and they topple over, instantly giggling at their most unladylike positions as they help each other regain their composure. As the lifeboat is lowered over the side of the ship, Matron Drummond calls out.

‘Time to go, girls! Abandon ship!’ she yells.

‘We’ll meet on the shore to get teed up,’ Matron Paschke adds.

As the lifeboat disappears over the side, Nesta turns to the remaining nurses.

‘You heard Matron, it’s our turn. You have all done an amazing job, thank you. Now, take off your shoes, hold your life jacket under your chin and jump.’

‘What’s the use of taking my shoes off, I can’t swim, so I might as well drown with my shoes on,’ a nurse comments.

Nesta looks around and sees part of a door lying uselessly on the deck.

‘No one’s drowning,’ she tells the defeated nurse. ‘Help me with this door. We’ll chuck it over the side and after you land, you can hang on to it.’

They launch the broken door overboard. Nesta watches as the nurse jumps, surfaces, and scrambles towards the plank, hanging on tight as her feet paddle away.

Looking around one last time, Nesta pulls up her dress, tugging her stockings down, before kicking them and her shoes away. No longer in proper uniform, she jumps overboard.

All around them in the water are cries for help, cries for loved ones. These pleas combine with the symphony of noise from the creaking and breaking up of the HMSVyner Brooke.

Norah, Ena and John pause for a moment to look back, watching in horror as the ship rolls onto her side. Her stern rises from the water, proudly displaying her propeller, before silently, gracefully, sinking into the depths below.

‘There she goes,’ John says quietly.

‘Oh, no! Over there,’ Ena suddenly cries.