𝟏 𝟗 𝟒 𝟎

༻ ❁ ༺
   

March 13th, 1940

   
          MEETING GWENDOLINE had been a blessing. For those nurses who were going to be moved overseas, there had been an orientation meeting at the university.

Alice was not supposed to be there on that particular day. She had applied to work in one of France's convalescing hospitals, but her application had been misfiled, and she was sent to be a front-line field nurse instead.

She was terrified, and her mother was on the verge of hysteria, but she knew that this was something that she could easily back out of - nor did she want to. So there she was, twenty minutes early in a lecture hall, equipped with a notepad and a pencil and trembling in her shoes.

This was not an unfamiliar room to her. One of her first-year English lectures had been held in this very room. How young she'd been then, how self-assured. She'd always wanted to be a writer, and she'd been fortunate enough that her family had just enough money for her to go to school and get her degree. And, while she may not have graduated with a masters, as her mother had hoped, she had gained a broader knowledge, a more analytical mind, and a deeper love of literature than she had ever had before.

She'd spent the previous year working in secretarial positions, which she'd adapted very quickly. Perhaps not as creatively satisfying as she had anticipated, but given the state of the economy, she was thankful for the job.

And then the war broke out.

She hadn't been the only one early for the lecture. There was another girl already there. Leaning casually against the front desks and chatting with a man Alice assumed to be the lecturer. A doctor in a clean white lab coat, not some army clerk like the one who had messed up Alice's papers.

She thought that might be something to soothe her mother's anxieties. She could be heading to a place where she could die at any moment, but there would still be eligible young men around.

The other girl seemed to already know the doctor. They were both quite relaxed as they discussed the many types of suturing materials that would be available. Alice wasn't trying to eavesdrop on the conversation, however, it was a very quiet room. Alice had no idea what suturing material even was.

She opened her notebook, flipped to a fresh page. At least she knew how to sew. She was a pretty dab hand with a needle, but she refused to consider the difference between stitching a garment and sewing human tissue at this time.

Other women started filing into the room. The lecturer patted his companion's arm and nodded towards the desks. The young lady in question slid onto the seat next Alice. Alice felt as if she was being scrutinized for a little while before the woman extended her hand in greeting.

"Gwendoline Richardson."

"Alice Harding?" So unsure was she that her own name came out as a question. "It sounds like you know what you're doing."

Gwen tossed her hair proudly. "I ought to. I'm going to be a doctor. I deferred medical school for this."

Not only was Alice impressed that this young woman was foregoing medical school in order to serve in the army, but she was also impressed that she was going to be a doctor in the first place. Alice wasn't a dud; in fact, she thought she was fairly smart, as her college scores demonstrated, but she was immediately intellectually frightened by the woman in front of her.

Intimidated in a lot of ways really. Gwen was intelligent and attractive, and determined to go to the one place Alice was terrified off. "Why go to the front line, when you could go anywhere?"

Gwen shrugged and set down a notebook on her desk. When Alice glanced through the book to locate a blank page, she noticed anatomical diagrams and illustrations, as well as what she assumed were chemical structures.

"I want to be a surgeon. I go to one of the military hospitals, even one of the ones in America, and I get stuck changing bandages and wiping noses."

That honestly didn't sound too bad to Alice.

"If I go to the front, I can get real time in a theatre." Gwen leaned forward over her notebook, eyes almost shining with determination. "After all this is over, I'll have more experience than most of the men in my class. It will be harder for them to deny me a good residency. I might just be able to escape the drudgery of general practice."

From the set of the woman's jaw, Alice assumed she had put a lot of thought into this. She had probably followed up on her paperwork instead of trusting it would be alright. Still it wasn't the 'we have to take care of our boys' or 'we have to do all we can in these dark times' Alice had expected. It didn't bear any resemblance to the poster slogans the other volunteers Alice had talked to spouted."Oh, that's..."

"Terribly noble of me. I know." Gwen winked and neatly crossed her ankles, her attitude of entitlement matched by her sense of comedy. "What about you? Doing your patriotic duty? Trying to run away, but discovering that the circus is not a liable career?"

"Something in the middle, I suppose. I want to help, but the idea of going to the front line scares me." That was an understatement. She was petrified. 

However, she was going to go through with it.

She was sick and tired of reading about exciting things but never actually doing anything thrilling. The universe had made its voice heard. She was about to embark on a journey. A definitely uncomfortable, possibly lethal journey.

"You stick with me, honey." The other woman reached over and patted her knee. "We'll get through this. And call me Gwen. Gwendoline is my grandmother."
  

༻ ❁ ༺

Alice emerged from the darkness of the lecture hall two hours later, rather shell-shocked. Nurses were supposed to perform a lot of things, and she had no idea how to do any of them.

Gwen patted her on the shoulder. "It is going to be alright. You're smart and tougher than you think. You can do this."

"Did you want to get tea?" Alice offered. "You can talk me through proper hand washing again."

"I would, but I have a prior engagement at the train station I really can't miss." Gwen replied, distracted.

A young soldier stood on the pavement, his bicycle resting against his side with a duffel bag attached on the rear. Gwen ran over to him and encircled his neck with her arms. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face against her neck.

As she saw her new friend ride away on the bike's handlebars, Alice felt a twinge of sympathetic sadness. She wasn't envious of such a relationship. Having to say goodbye to her father was difficult enough. Saying goodbye to a lover, she could never imagine.

As she walked to the university bookshop, the notion haunted her. Not for the first time she was struck by the terrible waste of it all. All the lives lost, all the families torn apart, all the heartbreak, and for what?

The bookstore itself was near empty, so different from the hub that it had been when she was in school.

Alice walked through the aisles to the shelf of medical literature, mentally calculating her limited resources. Though she had hoped to acquire a duplicate of everything, she realised it was impossible.

She hadn't taken biology when she was in school, so started with a copy of the Red Cross First Aid Textbook, and found herself glancing between The Principles and Practice of Nursing, and The Textbook of Surgery for Nurses.

It was more than she intended to spend, but she discovered one secondhand for a decent price and decided to buy all four, planning to start her studies as soon as she got home.

༻ ❁ ༺

November 28th, 1940

 
The area around Dover was lush and green, and it was a lovely place to be. The British camp had a more laid-back vibe than Alice had anticipated. Sure, there was a sense of unease.

But it also seemed more like a vacation than she had anticipated. The nurses had all taken a trip down to the cliffs the day before. It was difficult to be scared when staring out at such a breathtaking landscape.

Alice didn't know why everyone had warned her about winter on the English coast. It really wasn't any worse than the weather back home. Especially not today. The sun had come out after a week of cold, soaking rain. The nursing staff were taking advantage. They'd grabbed a pile of supply boxes at the camp's border and were enjoying the autumn light. Gwen's yarn was in Alice's hands as she struggled to unravel a terrible coil in her knitting.

This scarf appeared to be heading in the same direction as the mittens before it, unraveling completely as Gwen uttered every swear word she'd learned during their time at war — as well as a couple Alice was pretty sure she made up. Martha was smiling over many folded sheets on the next box over.

Martha's reading was enough to divert Alice's attention away from Gwen's knitting problems. Martha was intelligent, talented, and charming. 

Alice had wanted to be her friend since the first time she saw her beaming out from behind her starched white wimple with the type of apple pink cheeks she had assumed were done up for advertising until she saw them in person.

She was sure Martha would be an amazing friend, she just had to initiate some kind of conversation. And maybe pinch Gwen for whatever that look she got every time she caught Alice watching Martha. It wasn't helping, whatever it meant.

A couple of people emerged from the woods. An older man leaning heavily on the arm stretched over her shoulders, obviously unable to maintain his own weight, and a lady with curly brown hair clutching a worried crimson spot on her abdomen.

Army medics rushed in, catching them both before they could collapse.

"I need to speak to command and use your radio as soon as possible." The woman gasped, more red spreading over her hand every time she moved.

Gwen dropped her knitting and leapt into action. "Right now, you need a hospital slightly more than you need a radio. Boys, get them to the tent. Ladies, our life of leisure is at an end for the day."

༻ ❁ ༺

Alice had never liked Lance Corporal Swainston. He was stuffy, always unpleasantly sweaty, and he stared. She liked him even less right now.

He was getting in the way of saving the life of a British woman who was bleeding out under her hands. It didn't seem to matter to Alice whether she was a spy or not. If she was a spy, they'd certainly want her alive so they could question her.

Gwen bravely confronted the man. He was a half-head taller than she was, and she wasn't about to give him an inch. "How about I do my job and make sure she doesn't bleed out from the bullet wound in her stomach, and you do your job and figure out if she's one of ours or not?"

The Lance Corporal wasn't quite as concerned as Alice had imagined. He grumbled and scratched his temples, as if he was the one who was being irritated. "Nurse Richardson. As the highest-ranking officer at this camp-"

"Actually, you're not," Gwen replied, interrupting him. "Doctor Jones has the rank of Major. In reality, I hold the rank of Captain. And as long as we're both in the hospital, I'll have the upper hand. So, I recommend that you leave my ward and see what's out there. If you can't contact someone on the radio to validate that code,"

Gwen turned her back determinedly on the man, making her dismissal clear. "Alice, Martha, how are we looking?"

"He's stable. I think it is just exhaustion and delayed shock." Martha said, inspecting the older man's pupils.

Alice spoke up quickly. "I've got a much bigger concern. With pressure, I think I've brought the bleeding under control, but we'll need at least a unit." She fixed her gaze on the woman she was supporting. Since there had been no time for introductions, Alice was thinking of their patient, who was becoming paler by the second. "Do you know what your blood type is? Normally, it's on the men's dog tags, but I'm guessing you don't have those."

"Fraid I rather missed that step. I've been terribly busy the last few months." Their guest's teeth chattered. Her whole body wracked with shivers.

Alice leaned harder on the wound. The remains of ripped sutures were pulling out and aggravating the situation. "Over here, I need blankets and a hot water bottle. She's in a state of shock."

"Shock. Oh. That's rather bad isn't it?" Their guest's voice faded to a weak tremor and her eyes fluttered.

"Nothing we can't handle," Alice said, smiling as reassuringly as she could.

Their guest passed out after that. It was probably for the best. The next bit got a little messy.

༻ ❁ ༺

December 3rd, 1940

Their patient shook in her cot. She lay there for a few moments, blinking as she attempted to get her bearings, before attempting to pull herself free from her covers.

Alice set down her text book and hurried to her bedside. "Oh good. You're awake. We don't have a female ward here, so you're bunking in with us for now."

The woman groaned and let Alice help her into a sitting position. "Is it normal to hurt this much?"

Alice grimaced in sympathy. "Morphine is in short supply out here I'm afraid. I can get you an aspirin."

"I'd rather have a whiskey."

"We might be able to help with that too." Gwen said with a mischievous wink. "Don't tell the men."

Gwen rummaged in her footlocker and emerged with a bottle of amber and three camp mugs a few minutes later. Although the bottle of rye whiskey was theoretically illegal, the officers looked the other way as long as the nurses behaved themselves. After all, whiskey may be 'medicinal.'

The Matron occasionally joins them for a drink. She poured a finger's worth of coffee into each of the glasses. The third received only a smidgen of a mouthful. She handed Alice the light mug before handing one to their patient.

"I'm Sister Richardson and this is Sister Harding," Gwen said, obviously giving up on the mystery of not being properly introduced. "Gwen and Alice if we're going to be friends. And the unconscious blonde over there is Martha Greene."

Martha was having a well-deserved nap after tending to the woman's companion, and she was presently lying face-down on her cot with her covers drawn up to her ears.

The brunette woman smiled and breathed in the vapors off her drink. "Agent Carter. Peggy, since you saved my life and got me whiskey." Peggy raised her tin mug in a toast. "To new friends in terrible situations."

"To friends." Alice and Gwen echoed, clinking the three cups together.

Peggy took a sip and let out a long appreciative sigh. "Any chance of that radio any time soon? It was rather urgent."

Alice chuckled and licked the alcohol from her lips. She had thought that might be the first question once she was awake. "Once you've finished your drink, one of us will walk you over. Lance Corporal Swainston was apparently reprimanded for stalling instead of immediately reporting you and your companion."

Agent Carter pursed her lips and took a tiny sip of her whiskey. "I hate to say I'm pleased."

Gwen smirked over the rim of her mug. "But it is kind of pleasing."

Peggy and the Doctor stayed with them for three days before they were able to leave. They passed the time by playing chess and swapping horror stories about their most worst college professors.

When they eventually put her onto an aircraft, Alice was saddened to see her depart. The nurses who had hunkered down in their dorms came out to the airstrip to see her go. No one expected her to write. It just wasn't the sort of thing she could do in her job.