Page 11 of The Lies We Leave Behind

11

US Army base, Fulbeck, England June 1944

“First time?” the man next to me shouted over the sound of the plane’s engines.

I turned away from the window, where I’d been staring out at a sea of green land below, and looked at the soldier buckled in beside me. He was young and had a scar across his cheek that looked fresh, the skin still pink and healing. Gunshot? Knife wound? It was hard to tell.

“To England?” I yelled back. “Yes.”

“You a nurse or something?”

I nodded.

“You ain’t never seen what you’re gonna see over here. Hope you have a strong stomach.”

I didn’t bother to tell him that while it was my first time in England, it wasn’t my first time experiencing this war.

“I’m prepared,” was all I said.

“If you want, I can show you around. There are some nice little towns not too far away. If I can get a truck we could—”

I wanted to laugh, and wished I had Char, Tilly, and Paulette to turn to and roll my eyes. Instead, I just smiled and shook my head.

“I’m tired,” I said. “But thank you anyways.”

“You sure?” he asked, his eyes wandering down my blue uniform.

“Positive.”

A few minutes later the wheels touched down and I got out of the way as the supplies onboard were hurriedly removed.

“Office?” I asked another one of the men who’d been on the flight.

“I’m happy to show you,” he said, giving me a dashing smile.

I sighed. It would be like this until they got to know me and realized I had no interest. After which, it would still be like this, but then I could at least tease them about how silly they were.

“Fine,” I said. “Thank you.”

He talked while we walked, and I nodded and murmured, feigning interest as I took in the lay of the land.

The base here was much different than where I’d been in the New Hebrides. Instead of palm trees and jungle we were surrounded by low, sweeping green hills dotted with sheep. The flat plot of land the base was spread out on was scattered with wooden buildings rather than tents. There were hangars for planes, buildings with actual walls and roofs, and pavement instead of dirt and sand. As much as I missed my friends and the island I’d spent months on, I had a feeling I’d be comfortable here. A feeling that came with a tiny bit of guilt.

“Here we are,” the soldier leading me said, waving toward the one-story building in front of us. “I’m Jim, by the way. If you’re not busy later—”

“Thanks for your help, Jim. See you around,” I said and hurried in the door.

There was no one at the front desk when I entered, though I could hear the murmur of voices coming from elsewhere in the building. I looked for a bell to ring or a sign-in sheet, but there was nothing so I headed toward one of the chairs in the lobby to sit and wait.

“Oh!” a voice said. “I didn’t know anyone was here. Can I help you?”

I turned back around and saw a woman who looked to be around my age coming out of a nearby office, a stack of papers in her arms. Her light brown hair was neat as a pin, her uniform of button-down shirt, jacket, and trousers a familiar one. I had several just like it, though mine were normally wrinkled and covered in dust or blood.

“I’m Lieutenant Kate Campbell,” I said. “I’ve just flown in from La Guardia Field. I’m MAETS. Medical Air Evacuation—”

“Transport Squadron,” the woman finished for me. “Of course.” Her warm brown eyes crinkled in the corners as she smiled. “I was told to expect you. Follow me, please.”

I did as I was told and found myself trying to keep up as she strode through the building, delivering papers here and there before pushing out a side door into the rain that had started coming down.

“Has anyone shown you around?” she asked over her shoulder as she led me around the building to where several bicycles were lined up.

“No. I’ve only just arrived.”

“I’ll get one of the other nurses to give you a tour of the base later. But that’s the mess hall,” she said, pointing to a one-story white building. “And the hospital is over there.” She pointed to another one-story white building that looked identical to the first. “I’m Luella, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you. You’re a nurse too then?”

“I am. I was injured a couple weeks ago though and have been relegated to shuffling paperwork until I heal.” She held up a hand wrapped in a bandage. “Bullet ripped through the fuselage...and part of my hand.”

“How long you out for?”

“Not much longer. Thankfully it only took a chunk off the outside edge. But I could barely grip anything until a few days ago. Hopefully, I’ll be back at it next week. Until then, if you have a paper you need pushing, I’m your gal.”

She rolled her eyes and I laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.

“So,” she said, pointing to the bicycles. “I think you’re going to like your living accommodations. I’m not sure what your situation was at your last post, but I’ve heard some real horror stories. One of the other gals came here after working in India. Apparently, she once woke to a cow in her tent. It was licking her face. Because they’re sacred, she had to shoo it out with a scarf. The next day she woke to find two in the tent.”

I laughed. “There were no cows in my tent. Just twenty women, a few rats, and a snake or two every so often. Oh, and mosquitos.”

“You’ll definitely prefer what we have here.” She gave me a little grin, pulled a bike free, and pointed to the one next to it. “The only bad part is it’s about a mile away. I actually don’t mind. The ride is beautiful. But after a day of work in the field, it can be exhausting having to pedal home. Especially in the dark. Some of the girls walk their bikes, or don’t even bother with them if they’ve had a particularly grueling day.” She frowned then. “You can ride, right?”

“Of course,” I said, pulling a bicycle free and setting my bag in the basket on the front of it. I held it in place with one hand as I looked to Luella, who nodded and took off pedaling.

She wasn’t lying. The countryside was stunning. Green and lush with small stone cottages nestled into the countryside, their gardens flowering, and views of the valley below sweeping. I grinned into the wind, the warm summer air embracing me as we rode.

As we came around a bend in the road I gasped. Ahead of us, standing majestically against the green countryside, was a stunning mansion made of cream-colored stone. The courtyard in front boasted a fountain that didn’t seem to be running, and impeccably kept gardens. It reminded me of another country home I’d known.

Luella turned into the driveway of the house, and my mouth fell open as I followed.

“Are you serious?” I asked when I pulled up next to her at the foot of the front porch.

“Welcome to Fulbeck Manor,” she said, and then led me to the side of the house where several bicycles were parked.

“We take turns cleaning,” she said as she led me into the grand entryway. “There’s a sign-up sheet here.” She tapped a clipboard on the foyer table. “Of course, if you end up called out on the day you’re signed up for, someone will move your name down the list.”

“How many women live here?”

“We had twenty-four. Then twenty-three. You make us twenty-four again.”

Luella spoke in a way I appreciated—straight to the point, informative, and efficient. My father would’ve attributed it to being around men. I’d often been told I spoke in a similar manner. I attributed it to having parents who didn’t have time for what they referred to as the “flowery details of life” that no one needed.

She led me through the downstairs, showing me the kitchen, the dining room, three sitting rooms, two bedrooms, and the bathrooms before leading me up one of the two staircases.

“There are twelve rooms so we all share,” she said. “Some of the nicer furniture was moved for safekeeping and cots brought in. You’re sharing a room with Hazel. She’s swell. A hard worker.”

She stopped at a closed door where a piece of paper announced “Hazel and...” I peered at the name beneath that had been scratched out.

“Who’s Deidre?” I asked.

“She left. Cracked up.”

I nodded. It happened. Not just to the soldiers who saw and took part in the atrocities, but to those who cared for them after.

She knocked then opened the door and I followed her into my new bedroom and looked around. It was clear which side of the room was mine, as my new roommate’s things were strewn all over hers.

“Hazel is a bit unkempt,” Luella said with a laugh as I set my bag down beside my cot. “I believe she’s off, which means she’s probably at the mess hall since she’s not here. It’s sort of the social hub on base. If you’d like, I could take you there and introduce you to whoever’s around. I have to get back to shuffling papers, but one of the other girls could show you around base more thoroughly.”

“Sounds good,” I said and followed her back out to our bikes.

The mess hall was no different than any other I’d been in. Busy and loud. Luella led me to the buffet where we took what little was left and sat at the far end of a table full of women.

“Ladies!” Luella called, waiting until all heads had turned our way. “This is Kate.”

I smiled and was instantly barraged with questions.

“They send you straight from Bowman?” a woman asked, her eyes narrowed as she took in my clean uniform, washed hair, and clean nails.

Everyone here looked tired. Ragged from little sleep and long shifts. I realized how I must look to them with my clean, shining hair, pressed suit, and many nights of restful sleep.

New. Inexperienced. And like a liability.

“No,” I said, taking a seat. “I’m just coming back after an injury. I was in Espiritu Santo before that.”

I got several blank looks in response.

“It’s in the Pacific,” I said. “Near Australia.”

“Damn. I’ve heard it’s rough out there,” another woman said, earning me glances of admiration now.

I shrugged. “It was definitely no picnic. Nothing like what you’ve got here. I doubt you get many snakes or rats in your beds.”

There was a squeal of disgust and I laughed.

“What kind of injury?” someone else asked.

“Fractured leg.”

There were a few nods and then they began to introduce themselves. There were seven of them, the rest out on missions, and I tried to remember their names, noting my new bunkmate Hazel didn’t appear to be among them.

They peppered me with more questions and we swapped stories. Worst injury we’d seen so far. Funniest moment. Saddest. After a while, Luella had to get back to the main office and the rest of us wandered outside to our bicycles. We rode back to our fancy barracks and I unpacked while the others popped in to talk and busied themselves tidying, writing letters, reading, or talking quietly among themselves.

When Luella returned after her shift, she found me in one of the sitting rooms.

“They aren’t wasting any time,” she said. “You’re on at oh-five hundred hours tomorrow.”

I grinned, adrenaline racing through my veins.

“Can’t wait.”