Page 6 of The Lies We Leave Behind

6

“We might run into a little trouble today,” Mac said as I approached him and the plane that would fly us out today.

“What kind of trouble?” I asked, glancing at the sky.

“The front’s been pushed back.”

“How far back?”

“We might need to make a run for it as soon as we land.”

I sucked in a breath, held it, let it out.

“Thanks for the warning,” I said, and climbed aboard the transport.

“You secure back there?” Mac shouted a few minutes later over the sound of the engines starting up.

I gave my straps a last tightening and glanced around the body of the plane, making sure one last time that everything was in its place and tied down.

“All secure!”

I watched out the window beside me as he swung the plane around and we bumped slowly toward the runway, kicking up dust as we went, palm trees swaying in the distance. After a moment’s hesitation and a little back-and-forth with the tower, we were off. As this was probably the only moment I’d have time to rest today, I tried to put Mac’s warning out of my head, crossed my arms over my chest, tipped my head back, and fell asleep.

“Kate!”

I startled awake and braced my feet on the metal floor beneath my boots as the plane shuddered around me.

“Yeah?”

“Hold on!” he shouted. “We’re headed into it.”

Outside the window smoke billowed, obscuring the blue sky beyond.

I grasped the straps holding me to my seat as we tilted right, rocked back and forth, then tilted left, the sound of gunfire closer than I liked.

“We need to get out of the air,” Mac said. “I’m gonna get us down fast. Gonna be a rough landing. Hang on!”

I yelped and squeezed my eyes shut as a loud bang erupted outside the aircraft, the metal beds clanging loudly, the sound echoing through the cavernous fuselage. Mac let loose a string of expletives as he maneuvered the plane, my ears popping at the sudden change in pressure. A couple minutes later we hit the ground hard, my body pressing into the straps holding me in my seat, and we came to an abrupt stop.

“Come on!” Mac shouted, as the ping-ping-ping of bullets sent a shudder through the plane. “We have to go!”

I unfastened the straps and grabbed my bag as he ran past and threw open the door. I squinted, blinded momentarily by the sunlight, and jumped down behind him into water. It took me a second to realize we’d landed on a beach, white sand stretching out before us, gunfire ringing out from our right.

A handful of soldiers appeared, running toward the trees. “Go!” Mac pushed me to follow. “Keep your head down!” he shouted as a bullet went whizzing by. I ran faster, my heart galloping in my chest, breath coming hard.

Ahead of us, the soldiers were hurrying into a trench, dropping to their knees and sliding out of sight. I heard someone cry out behind us and slowed, but Mac grabbed my elbow and kept me going.

“Nope,” he said.

A moment later we were at the trench. He jumped and I followed, landing hard as more men clambered in after us and Mac looked around frantically.

“We need to get out of here,” Mac said, looking up and down the trench as if trying to determine which way would be best.

“Now?” I asked incredulously, pressing myself into the dirt wall behind me as a nearby explosion sent a spray of dirt and rocks over us.

“As soon as there’s a break in the fighting.”

“Down!” someone yelled and I was pushed to the floor of the trench, a body laid out on top of me as the ground around us shook.

Hands over my head, ears ringing, I breathed into the dirt pressed against my lips, tears, smoke, and sand stinging my eyes.

“Kate?” I heard someone yell. “Kate!”

I was pulled roughly to my knees and stared into Mac’s eyes.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded, swiping at the tears running down my face with shaking hands. I wasn’t. I was terrified. Dying while saving men I was prepared to do. Dying trapped in a trench or pulled out and made a prisoner was not something I was ready for.

“We need to go,” he said and pointed to a man. “He’s going to get us out. Are you armed?”

With trembling fingers I grabbed my duffel and pulled a pistol from a pocket inside.

“Good,” Mac said. “Few minutes. Be ready.”

I watched as he ducked and weaved through the men to the soldier he’d pointed out to me as bullets flew overhead. The two men had a quick discussion and then Mac looked back at me and waved me over.

“We’re going to follow the trench down,” Mac said, pointing. “And then climb out under the cover of those trees. Base camp isn’t far and the men will provide cover fire if needed, but keep your safety off just in case.”

I took in a shaky breath and nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Mac stood aside so that I could walk in front of him, sandwiching me in between him and the man leading us out. We kept low as bullets whizzed around us and I jumped at the sound of our own men firing back in response, the sound deafening. I had never been this close to the fighting before and I wondered with both respect and bewilderment how these men did it. How day after day they put their lives on the line, risking what was most certainly a painful and terrible death. It was terrifying.

We reached the end of the trench and I was relieved to look up and see that we were indeed now under the cover of trees.

“What are we waiting for?” I whispered to Mac as we stood, crouched down, no longer moving.

He placed a finger to his lips and watched the other man who was staring back the way we’d just come. Looking over Mac’s shoulder, I saw three soldiers peeking out of the trench, two with binoculars, all with rifles. One had his hand out in a “stop” signal. He started to move it into a thumbs-up and then all three moved, taking aim, three shots ringing out as one.

“Go!”

I didn’t see who said it, I just reacted, scrambling out of the trench with Mac and the other man and hurrying into the trees, my gun clutched in my sweaty hand, my heart racing as I tried to keep up.

I looked back only once. I could see our plane parked haphazardly in the water, where it would most likely remain abandoned for days if not weeks, the surf lapping at its wheels, and bodies. So many bodies. They littered the sand between the enemy and the trench they’d so desperately run to, their luck running out as bullets pierced their skin and stopped their hearts. I’d never seen a battlefield, I’d only seen the aftermath as the men who’d fought were loaded onto a plane for me to keep watch over. I ached for those slain on this beach, their blood staining the white sand where they’d fallen. I wondered if I’d had the chance, could I have saved any of them?

“Eyes front,” Mac said from behind me and I turned my eyes from the dead and hurried on.

Every so often we’d stop and listen, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I was sure the men could hear it. After a moment or two of silence, we’d press on until we came into a clearing and I saw the familiar buildings.

“You okay?” Mac asked as I stood rooted to the ground, my body reverberating from the sounds of gunshots inches away.

I nodded. “I think so.”

“I’m gonna see about transport out of here. We’ll likely have to wait until one of the other planes flies in and hitch a ride back with them. Where you gonna be?”

I pointed to the hospital.

Mac chuckled. “Of course. It was a silly question. Get yourself some food first though.”

“Yessir,” I said, stowing my pistol and heading for the mess hall as he loped toward the airfield.

The smell of coffee hit me as soon as I walked in the door and I smiled wearily at a few familiar faces as I grabbed a cup and a tray and made my way through the food options before taking a seat at one of the tables and taking a bite of oatmeal, my eyes drifting closed. I was still sitting there, my food half-eaten and cold, when Mac came to find me.

“Kate?”

I opened my eyes and stared up at him.

“Yeah?” I said, covering my mouth as I yawned.

“Our ride should be here in a couple hours. I’m gonna grab a bunk somewhere and get some shut-eye. Meet you at the airfield?”

“See you there.”

I got to my feet and grabbed my tray, placing the dishes in the dirty bin and stacking the tray before heading to the hospital and offering to lend a hand. I met some of the soldiers I was supposed to have flown out, plus a few others who would recover here and return to the front.

“Heard you had a harrowing flight in.”

I looked up and smiled wearily at the familiar face of Dr. Haddan, the head doctor on base.

“The flight wasn’t so bad,” I said. “But the landing could’ve been better. Sorry we weren’t able to get the patients out.”

“Not your fault. Just glad you’re okay and not another body on my roster.”

I gave him a grim smile and then went back to helping with the patients.

Two hours later I’d assisted in a surgery, packed three wounds, had been bled out on, and had drained an infected injury. By the time our ride out had landed, I’d showered and was dressed in a fresh set of scrubs a size too big for me.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

I glanced up from the chart I was scanning into the cheerful face of Char. I gave her a weary smile and then bent to reroll my pant leg.

“Heard you had a rough flight in,” she said.

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“What happened to your clothes?”

“The ones I was wearing were no match for the patient who bled out, despite being covered by a surgical gown. So...” I held my arms out to show off my too-big attire. “Here we are.”

She winced. “Sorry. You okay otherwise? I saw Mac. He looked a little shaken.”

I shrugged. “It was terrifying. I’ve never been that close to...”

The word was dying . But I didn’t want to say it and she nodded, understanding.

“Well,” she said. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You have any trouble?” I asked, and she shook her head.

“Nah. Looks like you guys cleared the way for us.”

“You’re welcome,” I said and then pointed down a line of beds. “These are our guys.”

“How do they look?”

“We lost one in the past hour. The rest should make it okay. Especially with two of us onboard.”

At her silence, I looked over at her. I sighed at the empathetic look on her face.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Really. It was awful but... I’ve recovered. Mostly.”

She reached out and squeezed my hand.

When Char, Paulette, Tilly, and I had first met and agreed that the four of us were going to be friends, Tilly had asked in her quiet way what we all needed when times were tough. We’d been sitting on Paulette and Tilly’s lower bunks, Char and Paulette on one, me and Tilly on the other, playing cards on an overturned box, laughing, and sharing bits about ourselves when the question arose.

“At the last hospital I worked at,” she’d said, shuffling the cards like a pro, “the lead nurse had a policy that we could come to her if the job was ever too much. She asked us each what we needed to feel safe and comforted. I thought we could do the same here. For each other.”

We’d all looked at one another and shrugged. Seemed like a good idea to us.

Char liked to be hugged when she had a bad day.

“A good long one,” she’d said.

“Not me,” Paulette had said. “Just leave me be. No touching. No sad smiles. Ignore me. I’ll come around when I’m ready.”

“Tilly?” I’d asked.

“Just sit beside me for a while,” she’d said. “Don’t say anything. Just be there.”

“What about you, Kate?” Paulette had asked.

I’d thought about it for a moment. I wasn’t much for physical touch, thanks to cold parents whose only forms of affection were the tight, satisfied smiles they gave when I brought home good grades or displayed excellent manners in front of their friends during one of their stuffy dinners. It wasn’t until I was living with my aunt and uncle that I saw genuine joy and love between a couple. It had initially made me uncomfortable. And embarrassed. But after a while I’d begun to crave the feel of a simple hug. A hand run over my hair. The squeeze of my hand in a moment of joy. I grew comfortable enough receiving that kind of affection from my aunt and uncle, but I was still wary of it with others. I’d steered away from having a boyfriend in my late teens and early twenties because of it, but in the three years before shipping out for the New Hebrides, I’d had two. Neither of whom had fulfilled any sort of desire in me. I wasn’t even sure I had desires like other women, seeing as I hadn’t felt much for either man, and had told them as much in the end. But it had felt like something I should try. The normal course of action for a woman my age. Most of the women I knew were keen at the idea of being attached to a man. I’d never really understood the draw. I was most happy by myself.

“You’re so frigid,” Calvin, the most recent, had said as he’d dropped me off in front of my aunt and uncle’s house.

I’d considered the word and then nodded.

“Perhaps I am,” I’d said. “Or perhaps you just do nothing for me.”

The look on his face, a bewildered sort of disbelief, amused me to this day.

“I’m not sure,” I’d said to Paulette, looking from one friend to the next over my hand of cards. “I’m not one for a lot of physical affection. Maybe just a squeeze of the hand?”

I looked at Char now as her hand began to slip from mine, and held it tighter. Her eyes, full of questions, met mine. And then she nodded, understanding. I was not fine.

At half past two we began loading the patients into the plane. I grinned at the familiar figure doing a thorough check of the aircraft.

“Hey, Gus,” I said, happy to know he’d be the one flying us back.

“You doing okay, kid?” he asked, moving out of the way for two soldiers carrying a large metal trunk toward the plane. “Heard you had a bit of excitement this morning.”

I shrugged, and he patted my shoulder before hurrying off to the mess hall to get a quick bite before we took off.

“It’s nice to have company!” Char yelled over the engines an hour later, looking first to me, then to Mac who was sitting up front beside Gus, then to the full bunks running to the back of the plane. “And extra hands!”

It had taken us a while to get all the patients onboard. One blew the stitches on his chest and had to be taken back inside to be tended to. Another, a young man with a head injury, ran off when the male nurse escorting him stopped to help another soldier who was struggling with his crutches. By the time everyone was finally in their bunks, I was exhausted.

I smiled wanly at Char and she patted my leg.

“We’ll be home in no time,” she said and then closed her eyes as the plane began to move.

The flight was mostly uneventful. Char and I moved through the bunks checking wounds, administering oxygen, and chatting quietly with our patients.

“You got a fella?” a soldier with a head wound asked.

We were asked that a lot on these flights.

I shook my head at the soldier and patted his arm before moving on to the next.

“Why not?” he asked. I sighed. I hated when they were persistent with this particular line of questioning, but also knew it provided a distraction.

“I like keeping my wits about me,” I said. “Having a man to worry about would just distract me.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have to worry about me,” he said. “I’m goin’ home.”

“She don’t want no brain damaged man, Davey,” the soldier below him said, thumping the bottom of the bunk.

My eyes widened and I prepared to defend one patient against the other, until Davey laughed.

“Hush, man! She don’t need to know how bad it is until I get her home.”

Now several of them were laughing and I turned to Char, who was shaking her head.

“I think maybe we’ve given them too much oxygen,” I said with a grin.

“That’s it, fellas,” Char announced. “No more breathing for you lot.”

My ears popped then and I glanced toward the front of the plane where Mac was just turning to shout at us.

“Starting our descent!” he said, and I nodded and picked up the pace, checking my half of the patients and stowing the oxygen.

I was buckling myself into my seat when I felt the rumble of the landing gear. But a moment later the plane tipped into a right turn and I glanced at Char, who frowned. We knew the route home like the back of our hands. We didn’t usually make a turn to get there. It was a straight shot.

“Where’s he takin’ us?” she asked before turning her head and shouting toward the cockpit. “Where you taking us, Gus?”

But there was no answer as we stayed in the turn, evened out, then dipped into another turn.

I felt the landing gear again.

“Gus?” I shouted.

“Hang on!” Mac yelled.

The landing gear rumbled again.

“Gus?” This time when Char yelled his name, the timbre of her voice rose an octave. When he didn’t answer, she looked to me. “What do you think it is?”

I closed my eyes as I answered.

“It’s not coming down.”

“What?”

“The landing gear isn’t coming down. Didn’t you feel it? He’s tried three times now.”

“What does that mean?” Her voice went up in pitch again.

“It’s going to be a rough landing.”

She said a string of words and then wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to get ahold of herself.

“What about them?” she asked, nodding toward our patients.

But I didn’t answer. There was nothing to say.

Mac appeared then, his face covered in a sheen of sweat, forcing a smile so as not to alert the men in back in case they were watching us.

“Landing gear is stuck,” he said. “We’re gonna bypass the airfield and go for the beach just past it.” He looked to me with an almost apologetic smile.

“Twice in one day?” I said.

“At least we won’t be landing under fire.”

“Not sure which is better, landing gear and bullets buzzing my head, or no landing gear at all.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said. “Just a little rough. And then we’ll have to hike a little ways, get some of the men to come help unload the patients.”

I felt Char’s body rise and fall beside me as she sighed.

“I’m never flying with you again,” I said with a smile that was anything but amused.

“We’re just trying to keep it exciting for you ladies.”

“I like my flights boring,” Char said.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time, doll.”

I grabbed Char’s hand.

“Ready when you are,” I said to Mac, who gave us a salute and then rejoined Gus up front.

“Shit,” Char whispered. “Shit shit shit.”

We came in low and fast, the plane shuddering as we hit trees on our way down before the belly of the fuselage finally touched ground and we skimmed the surface and then bounced twice before crashing down hard and sliding for what seemed like forever.

The men in their beds shouted in fear and pain as Char and I grasped the straps of our buckles, our eyes squeezed shut. Which was why when the large metal trunk came loose of its bindings, neither of us saw it careening toward us.