As I told the story of Geronimo, Manno translated it for the bystanders. ‘A platoon had advanced in France, pushing the enemy back faster than anyone expected, but they lost their radio equipment. Due to lack of contact, another detachment mistook the platoon for an enemy force. They set about firing on them with heavy guns.’ The villagers stared, wide eyed, at Manno while he spoke. I continued, ‘The platoon had no form of communication apart from a couple of my father’s pigeons. At dusk, they released Geronimo with the necessary information about their position.

‘By dawn, the attacking force had been informed of the situation by radio. Eventually the two sections came together and they organised a successful, unified attack on the enemy.’

Manno’s audience applauded and patted me heartily about the shoulders calling, ‘Bravo! Bravo! ’

‘Very good! I like it. Walk with me,’ Manno said.

Flustered again, I had to admit I needed guidance on these things. I’d never walked out with a boy before. ‘I have to take the crutches to the school first,’ I said. ‘Thank you for the help.’ I rushed away and barged into the quarantine room.

‘Nurse Josephine, please, can you help me? There’s a fisherman, the one who saved us, who wants me to walk out with him. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never walked out with anyone before, and there’s no chaperone. It’s not correct, is it?’

Josephine laughed and stared at me for a second. ‘Gertie, it’s war-time. The rules have changed. If you like him, and you trust him, then there’s no harm in walking out together, alone. But stay close to the village.’

‘I don’t suppose you know what koukla mou means?’

The nurse laughed again. ‘Yes, get used to it. Koukla mou means my doll.’

‘Don’t go!’ Perkins called melodramatically from his bed. ‘You belong to me, Nurse Gertie. You can’t go walking out with some Greek fisherman who calls you his doll. Not when your own blood pumps around my veins! You have no idea of his intentions, and anyway, you’ll break my heart. Haven’t I suffered enough by your hand?’

Did he know the portholes had caused the sinking? Would he tell them it was me who went against orders and opened the portholes?

‘That’s not fair, Corporal Perkins,’ I said. ‘Your words cut me deeply. You know very well that I saved your life on two accounts! First, when I got them to pull you out of the water, and second, when I gave my own blood to keep you alive.’ I rushed to his bedside. ‘So you must shush now! You seem to be doing so well. Look. I’ve brought you a pair of modern crutches which the fisherman brought all the way from the island of Syros, just for you. How are you feeling?’