Angel of the Somme: The Great War, Book 1 (22 page)

“And I’ve done this badly, or at least not in the order I’d intended. But you should know that I very much wish to marry you.”

She didn’t nod at this, nor did she speak.

“Lily, I know it’s not a customary sort of proposal, but…you will marry me, won’t you?”

He felt her warm breath on his neck as she sighed. After a few moments, she finally spoke. “We can talk of this later, Sam.”

“What do you mean, later?” He was torn between wanting to look at her, to gauge her expression and dreading the moment he’d have to let her out of his arms.

“Tonight is just about tonight. Not tomorrow. Not forever.” Lily’s voice was calm and tightly controlled. “There’s a war on, as you know too well, and promises like that aren’t meant for times like these.”

“But you’re not saying no?” He hated the tone of desperation in his voice.

“Perhaps when the war is over, we might see things differently.” She pulled away from him.

“I won’t see things differently, darling. Not ever. Is it that you think your feelings for me will change?”

She sat up in bed, tucking the sheets around her breasts. “Not at all, Sam. It’s just that…after making love with you—to have you propose feels like a bit of obligation on your part.”

God, nothing could be further from the truth. But he could see why she might look at it that way. Damn him and his timing.

“Is that truly all that troubles you?”

She looked over at Rose’s empty bed and didn’t have to say a thing.

“I know a war is on,” Sam said, “but either of us could go. You could be hit by a shell. A seizure might end me. But, darling, all the more reason to marry. To grab this happiness while we can.”

Lily shook her head. “Even if I did say yes, what would your family think?”

He was nonplussed. “They would love you.”

“They wouldn’t think me fast?” She gave him a skeptical look.

“Goodness no! They’d be forever grateful to you for rescuing me from a life of solitude amongst my sheep. This may come as a shock to you, Lily, but I was hardly the dashing bachelor back in West Sussex.”

“And it’s like I told you before, wartime romances don’t always last. In the garden, you’d mentioned Lady Hamilton and Wellington, but you glossed over how they turned out.”

“But you forget, I was never a war hero, only a farmer in a captain’s uniform. And farmers are terribly faithful. We’re like sheepdogs that way.” He lay his head down on her shoulder and kissed her neck. “Marry me.”

“Even if it wasn’t for all the other issues, you know I can’t. I have a contract with the Army. I have a duty, Sam.” She looked at him, her eyes burning with serious intent. And he’d be damned if he could think of a response to her. She took her duty as seriously as he’d taken his, and he couldn’t be the one to insist she abandon it.

“We’ll talk of it later then. But when I leave you tomorrow, I’ll do everything within my power to make it the briefest of partings. Duty and honor and family will be given their due, but I fear I’m quite determined about the matter.”

He forced himself out of bed, ever conscious of the danger he put her in by being in her room. He quickly slipped into his hospital blues and turned to face her.

“Until I’m by your side again, I’ll write you,” he said.

She frowned in alarm. “You’d better not. Your seizures!”

He laughed. “I’ll dictate them to Evie then, until I’m given the all clear.”

A grin replaced her frown. “I’d like that.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead before stepping backwards toward the door. Tears filled her green eyes as she watched him.

“Don’t think for a moment that I’m giving up, Lily. Don’t fool yourself. Time and distance and the whole bloody German army aren’t enough to come between you and me. You’ll see. But I need to leave now. I need to keep you safe.” He reached up to turn off the light. “You need to get some sleep, love. God knows you’ll need it.” In the dark, he tripped over the canvas bag. “Oh, the wine. We’ve entirely forgotten about it. I don’t suppose I should take it back to Gordy?”

“Yes, he should have it. Maybe he’ll find another reason to toast, some day.” Her voice sounded like she was crying and he had to fight the urge to wrap her back in his arms.

He opened the door a crack and cautiously poked his head into the hall. It was empty. Desperate not to compromise Lily, he turned back for the briefest moment. The light from the hall spilled onto the bed where she sat, green eyes swimming with tears.

She tilted her chin up and forced a smile onto her lips. “Goodbye, Sam.”

“I love you,” he replied, and slipped away from her.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sam returned to his bed, but he couldn’t sleep. Just after dawn, the VAD brigade brought a hearty breakfast of toast and eggs, the latter likely donated from all the villager’s chickens. The fact that they’d taken the trouble to provide such a lavish meal in spite of the train bombing didn’t sit well with Sam. He knew it should feel like they were preparing the men for a long journey, and not like fattening calves up for the slaughter—but he couldn’t shake the feeling of impending disaster that began to settle on his shoulders. The bombing, and the revelations that it had brought, had turned the world on its axis and brought about the death of New Bedlam. The hospital’s heartbeat was stuttering now. It was only a matter of time before it stopped beating all together.

Sam forced himself to eat a little breakfast, though he was too tightly wound to have much appetite. No one seemed to mind that he was free of restraints and it felt like a small luxury to feed himself. Gordy was far from being back to his old self, but seemed to be stepping out of the darkness. While he ate, he attempted to engage Sam in conversation about the weather and what he knew about the condition of hospital ships. Gordy expressed confidence that Sam would be safe as houses on the journey. The Germans may have renewed unrestricted submarine warfare, but all hospital ships traveled in convoys now. The only reference he made to the previous night’s business was to ask Sam if he was angry at him. Sam replied that he most certainly was not.

Even before the VADs collected the breakfast trays, Dr. Raye began his rounds with Lily at his side. The moment she stepped onto the ward, she looked for Sam and gave him a wide smile. He smiled in return and willed himself to be patient as she walked among the rows.

The doctor sped through the ward, only sparing a few words at each officer’s bedside. Lily scrambled behind, balancing an armload of files, release papers most likely. As the doctor moved between the beds, Lily sorted through papers, scribbling madly. By the time the pair reached Sam, he was sitting up, desperately hoping for a moment alone with her.

“Hectic schedule this morning.” The doctor nodded toward him. “Good news for you, Captain. You’ll be headed to Blighty.”

“How soon?” Sam asked.

Dr. Raye picked up Sam’s chart and scribbled a note. “Within the hour, I’d imagine. They’re prepping the convoys as we speak. Best wishes for a speedy recovery.”

Sam cast a glance to Lily. She had a tight smile in place, but trained her eyes on the sheaf of papers in her hands. She didn’t risk a glance up at him.

The doctor turned to face Gordy. “And Lieutenant, I’ve good news for you as well. I’ve just received word that you’ll be reassigned as a translator at General Headquarters in Montreuil. You’ll need to complete your recovery at Rouen first, naturally.”

“Thank you, sir.” A swarm of conflicting emotions flickered across Gordy’s face. Guilt was chief among them. “Will you be coming along to Rouen with us, sir?”

“I won’t. I’ve been reassigned as well. I’m heading to RAMC Headquarters in London.” Dr. Raye cleared his throat. “Don’t like being so far away from the action, truth be told. But it’s an opportunity to make some changes in how things are run. I would likely have much better luck if I started from the top.”

The doctor nodded toward both men. “Take care, soldiers.” He turned away and walked across the aisle to begin the next row. Lily followed behind, her chin tucked down to conceal her expression.

An unfamiliar VAD followed directly behind the doctor, pushing a luggage cart. When she reached Sam, she read his chart, then pulled his suitcase and duffel bag from the pile. After depositing them at the foot of his bed, she moved on to the next patient without a word.

Gordy swung his leg around and stood up. “I reckon I’d better help you pack up.”

Sam opened his duffel to see his uniform folded on top. It seemed like an unfamiliar garment to him after all he’d been through. He pulled it out—first the jacket, then the trousers. As he unfolded his trousers a small, dark stone fell out of the pocket and rolled along the floor. His father’s old totem. It came to rest at Gordy’s feet.

“What’s this then?” Gordy picked it up and turned it over in his hand. The carved monkey’s face grinned emptily at Gordy.

“Ah, was a memento of the Boer War. A little something for luck.” Sam held out his hand. Gordy plopped the cold stone into Sam’s open palm.

“Won’t be needing that where you’re going,” Gordy said with a grin.

“I suppose not,” Sam said. “I should pass it on to my brother. Maybe he’ll be sent to Blighty as well. Would certainly put Evie’s mind to ease.”

Sam put the stone back into his trouser pocket before dressing in his uniform. By the time he’d buttoned up, Gordy had already finished packing away Sam’s letters and the few scattered items on his bedside table.

At the last minute, Sam plucked a dried sprig of dill from Lily’s now drooping bouquet. He tucked it into his pocket while Gordy fiddled with the suitcase latch. While Gordy was diverted, Sam took the opportunity to slip the bottle of wine back under Gordy’s bed, just out of sight.

“Feels strange wearing a uniform again after so much time in my hospital blues,” Sam said.

“You’ll be back in civvies before you know it. No more army for you.” Gordy held out a bit of paper and Sam took it. “It’s my new address in Montreuil. I know you won’t be able to write me any time soon, but your head should clear up some day. I’d like to know what’s become of you.”

“Thank you, Gordy.” Sam slipped the note into his front pocket. “It’s been a pleasure.” He extended his hand and Gordy shook it heartily. “Thank you for everything.”

Gordy looked into his eyes. “I expect an invitation to your and Bluebird’s wedding, you know.”

Sam shook his head and smiled. “No one has ever worked harder for one, Gordy.”

The air was filled with the sounds of thudding suitcases and squeaking carts as men prepared to leave. VADs and sisters wove throughout the ward on various little missions. Through the milling throng, every now and then, he could see Lily and Dr. Raye—growing distant as they worked their way through the ward.

Several men burst through the front door, the ambulance drivers who’d been in and out of the ward daily since his arrival. He felt a sentimental twinge at not even knowing the names of these familiar faces. They grabbed officers’ suitcases and carried them out the door to the waiting ambulances.

Before Sam had a moment to collect himself, he watched as his own suitcase was snatched up. He tried to reach for his duffel bag, but Gordy had already gotten it over his shoulder and was hobbling toward the door. Sam had no choice but to follow, searching through the milling crowd, trying to spot Lily’s little white scarf among so many.

A few other men filed in behind Sam and blocked his view. It wasn’t until he reached the door that he finally spotted Lily. She’d stepped out into the aisle, her arms down at her side, but her chin up. She wore a very brave face.

It was all Sam could do to keep moving his feet forward. Lily forced a smile on her lips and raised her palm—courageous, darling girl. He stopped and lifted his hand in return. Then the men behind him gently nudged him backward through the open door and she was lost to him.

Sam turned to see four ambulances idling at the curb. Since Gordy was loading his duffel bag into the lead vehicle, Sam climbed into the back. The upper bunks had been removed so that the men could be seated upon the two remaining lower beds. After depositing his burden, Gordy hobbled backward a few steps and watched Sam with a newly familiar solemn expression.

A few other men settled in beside Sam and a soldier climbed in next to the driver. As soon as their little convoy could hold no more, his driver climbed behind the wheel and eased down New Bedlam’s driveway. As they turned the corner, Sam caught one last glance at the place. Faded red brick looking brighter than usual in the morning sun. A flurry of men and suitcases scrambling about the front steps, like ants on a hill. And standing at the top of the stairs, leaning against the rail for support, stood Gordy, one hand raised in a salute against his wobbling head.

Sam saluted in return, but his eyes were so cloudy that he had no idea if Gordy had even seen the gesture.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to relax. Once again, he attempted to force his headache away with willpower. Each time he heard the metal clanging of the ship, the sound reverberated inside his mind.

It had been a very long day.

After two hours in an ambulance, they’d loaded the men onto a hospital train. Due to the limited number of ambulances available for the evacuation of New Bedlam, it had taken over five hours to completely load the train. The journey to the hospital ship at Le Havre had been much quicker, but upon their arrival, they’d had a considerable wait on the docks. Most of the men had waited in the sun, but Sam had been insistent upon finding a spot inside the station. He felt like a selfish prig to make such demands. His memory of the look in Lily’s eyes spurred on his persistence.

By the time the hospital ship was loaded, it was early evening and the baby headache that had hatched earlier that day had turned into an adolescent with attitude. Since they were crossing at night, the ship was brightly lit, to be evident to all that it was a hospital ship and therefore a noncombatant. Not that this distinction had made a great deal of difference to the Germans of late.

The ship was well out of the harbor and the patients had begun to settle before Sam had a chance to hail a passing nurse. “Excuse me, Miss. Might I trouble you for a bit of pain relief? I’ve a terrible headache.”

The plump nurse had a kindly face and met Sam with a smile. “Crossings can bring that about. Let me just check your chart and see what I’m allowed to give you.” She scanned his chart quickly. “It says you’ve been prescribed Phenobarbital three times per day. Is that correct? And you’ve received all three today?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The woman gave a humming sound. “Nothing in here about restricting you from medications, but with phenobarb, it can be tricky. I’ll be back in a moment.” When the woman returned, it was with a small glass of foul-smelling liquid. Sam downed it and thanked her.

He lay back on his bunk and pulled the covers around his head. He knew that he must appear quite silly, like a child hiding in bed from a monster. But his headache wasn’t dimming. He tried to relax and concentrate on something else, but the only thing he could possibly think of was Lily. The feel of her warm breath against his neck as he lay with her. The way her soft breast pressed against his skin. The brave look in her pretty green eyes as she watched him leave her.

To his surprise, the exhausting day combined with the rumble of the ship’s engines eventually coaxed him into a light sleep.

He came to some time later when a loud shout filled the air, quickly followed by the
wah-wah-wah
of a siren, screaming a warning from somewhere on deck. He, and his headache, stirred to life immediately.

“Up! Up you all!” The plump nurse ran along the aisles, shaking the men’s feet as she passed. “Those of you who are able, you’re to get up on deck. Now.”

“Why? What is it?” a voice asked.

“U-boat attack.” She bent over to assist one of the patients to his feet. “All able-bodied men up on deck. Now. Standard procedure.” She nodded toward Sam. “Come along then.”

Sam crawled out of bed, his headache giving a kick of protest. He followed the trail of men toward the narrow stairwell in the rear. They spilled onto the deck and were shoved toward the bow of the ship. The wind whipped across the bow, which was shockingly cold despite the tight crush of men. Sailors scurried about amidst shouted orders.

The plump nurse herded the men farther toward the front of the ship. It was least protected from the wind there, but it was necessary so that they could fit the maximum number of men topside. Once the men were relatively settled, she returned below decks to assist others.

Though his position at the bow of the ship was freezing, it offered a fine vantage point of the ensuing action. All the ships in the small convoy of seven were brightly lit. Two of the smaller vessels were fitted with bright spotlights, which roamed over the surface of the waves, searching for signs of the U-boat.

Another blast of cold wind hit and Sam felt his headache kick up a notch.

He heard a snatch of shouting from one of the destroyers and noticed the spotlight had stopped searching the water and had focused on a single point. Sam couldn’t tell what it was in the dark and at such a distance, but by the reaction of the men, he could only assume they’d found the enemy vessel.

“He’s going to ram it,” said a voice at Sam’s elbow.

“Bit of a risk, isn’t it?” asked another.

“It’s the most effective way of taking them out. Even the war department approves now.”

As if on orders from the fellow at Sam’s elbow, the second destroyer headed directly toward the U-boat while the other ship kept its beam of light pointed directly at that specific point on the water.

A small bang sounded, then a great deal of shouting. With his headache roaring about his ears, Sam couldn’t tell for a moment, that it was a celebratory sound.

Soon, all the men on deck joined in the cheering, and the hospital ship celebrated in the only way they could. By sounding the siren and flickering their deck lights.

When the beam of light struck Sam’s eyes, it felt like a physical blow, directly to the back of his brain.

“No!” Sam shouted. “I need to go below.” But his voice was lost in the sound of the men’s cheers.

He closed his eyes, trying to fight what he knew was coming. Blindly, he pushed through the throng of men, scrambling like a rat trying to find a hole. To no avail. The light had already blasted through the gate in his mind, flooding his mind with pain and…red…and then nothing.

Sam’s heart lurched as he was immediately transported into a place of icy, bitter cold. The chilly wind on the deck was nothing to it. This was a heavy blanket of ice, of death, and it had its frozen fingers around Sam in a tight grip.