Fitzgibbons continued. ‘A good night’s sleep would be in order, as it may be your last for some months. Trust me when I say the living conditions at the hospital clearing station are appalling.’ He indicated for us to sit at his desk. ‘The hospital staff are crying out for our cargo, particularly chloroform and morphine. I warn you, the medical situation on the island is grim. More than half of those who were due to be transported back to Blighty on the Britannic have perished already, or are on the brink of doing so.’

I felt my skin shrink at the mention of this fact. More deaths due to my own incompetence.

‘Trench foot, gangrene, shrapnel wounds, dysentery, typhoid, and also a fresh outbreak of Spanish influenza are the main problems. On top of that, venereal diseases. Syphilis and gonorrhoea have reached epidemic proportions. The station is under-manned, short of everything, unhygienic, and most of the patients are kept under canvas. Due to the shortage of beds, the majority of the injured sleep on the ground, and as the winter rains reach their peak in February, things will only get worse. Food, like everything else, is in short supply, so eat everything you’re given; and beware of the moles.’

Nurse Josephine and I exchanged a despairing glance, trying to keep the horror out of our expressions.

‘Moles?’ Josephine asked quietly.

‘Yes, moles. Disgusting flea-ridden creatures, blind, with long claws. They dig their way up into the tents at night, then run like rats over everything and everyone. Most unhygienic. Screaming nurses will not be tolerated in a town of hospital tents where too many men are dying in terrible pain. Any questions?’

‘Were the medical staff from the Britannic taken to Mudros?’ Josephine asked.

‘They were offered the statutory two weeks leave after such a sad event, but many who survived uninjured volunteered to work in local hospitals, and some went on to Lemnos and are working in Mudros now.’ He folded his arms and stared into the distance. ‘However, I believe they’ll all return to England for another inquiry the moment they can be relieved – which won’t be for some time the way things are going. The ones that returned to the UK attended an unofficial inquiry on board the flagship, Duncan, on 24 November.’

‘I see. Are there at least enough splints and morphine for the casualties now?’ Nurse Josephine continued.

‘There isn’t enough of anything. Priority is given to those with over a fifty per cent chance of survival.’

‘And the progression of the war? We had no news while on Kea.’

‘I can’t say. There is a plan, but I’m not at liberty to divulge it. You must be ready to relocate at all times.’

‘How many patients are at the clearing station?’

‘Can’t be sure. Perhaps forty thousand wounded, sick, and dying.’

‘And medical staff?’