After a month on Lemnos, my name had not come out in the draw. Josephine and I longed for a day off, a swim in the crystal-clear sea, time to chatter, laugh, sing and splash, most of all to bathe in the saltwater and sleep all day on the warm sand. The names of people who won didn’t go back into the draw, so I consoled myself; Josephine and I were bound to win a day off eventually, even if we were the last two left in the sack.

My work continued in the theatre, assisting the anaesthetist, sometimes doing the final stitching, and dressing wounds. There was no part of a man that I had not worked on. February came and we saw the casualties change with the weather. Added to the shrapnel and gunshot wounds came severe frostbite. Feet blackened and stinking with gangrene were amputated. After assisting with the removal of both feet, a young cherubic soldier lost his battle and died on the table. He reminded me so much of our Arthur that I was shaken to the core.

I said, ‘Excuse me,’ left my post at the surgeon’s side and rushed out into the evening air. The tears of helplessness raged for a few seconds, then I dried my face and returned to my post.

‘We’ve only lost ten per cent of patients this week, nurse. A new record, I think. Excellent!’ surgeon Rumley said without emotion and not looking my way.

By the end of February, I hoped to be able to deal with a drainage tube and stitch down a flap. I scrutinised every move of Rumley’s hands with the utmost interest.

‘Nurse!’ he bellowed one afternoon, making me jump. ‘Why is your head between me and my patient?’

‘Sorry, sir,’ I said, pulling back. ‘I got carried away, sir. It’s my target to learn the tube and flap procedure by the end of the month, sir.’

‘Get out of my way!’ he yelled furiously. ‘Who do you think you are?’

‘Gertie Smith, sir.’

I guess he hadn’t expected an answer because he guffawed. ‘Damned audacious girl, if you ask me.’

From that moment, Rumley took every opportunity to give me the most awful jobs and there were moments when I hated him, but as the challenges grew, so did my determination. It was mid-March before he took twenty minutes to talk me through the procedure. When the next leg amputation was completed that afternoon, he stood back and said, ‘Go on then, now’s your chance, nurse.’

I felt nothing but intense concentration as I forged on with a steady hand. Once I’d cut that final thread, I wanted to leap in the air! Both thrilled and obscurely terrified, I whispered, ‘I did it!’ as I met the surgeon’s smiling eyes.

*