war would be over by autumn. They’d even got up a betting pool on what day it would end.
“Oh, speaking of the war ending,” Fairchild said, “you never did say what date you wanted for the pool, Kent.”
May eighth, 1945, she thought. But the calendar they were using only went through this October and most of the dates already taken were in late June and early July, even though the invasion had been less than two weeks ago.
“You can have the eighteenth,” Fairchild said, looking at the calendar.
The eighteenth was the day a V-1 had hit the Guards Chapel during a church service and killed 121 contemps. If that date and location weren’t an error, too.
“Or August fifth.”
The day one had hit the Co-op Stores in Camberwell. But she had to choose something. “I’ll take August thirtieth,” Mary said, and as Fairchild wrote her name in the square, “Yesterday, on my way here, I heard someone say something about hearing an explosion in—”
“Kent,” Parrish said, leaning in the door, “the Major wants to see you in her office.”
“Don’t say anything about the pool,” Fairchild warned her. “Or about the war being nearly over. She’s an absolute bear on the subject.” She thrust the calendar into a drawer.
Parrish walked her to the Major’s office. “The Major’s convinced the war can still be lost, though it’s difficult to imagine how. I mean, we’ve already taken the beaches and half the coast of France, and the Germans are on the run.”
But the Major was right. The Allied forces would shortly be bogged down in the hedgerows of France, and if they hadn’t stopped the Germans at the Battle of the Bulge—
“You needn’t look so nervy,” Parrish said, stopping outside the Major’s door. “The Major’s actually not bad unless you’re attempting to put one over on her.” She knocked on the door, opened it, and said, “Lieutenant Kent is here, Major.”
“Send her in, Lieutenant,” the Major said. “Have you found any blankets yet?”
“No, Major,” Parrish said. “Neither Croydon nor New Cross has any they can spare. I have a call in to Streatham.”
“Good. Tell them it’s an emergency. And send in Grenville.”
She does know about the V-1s, Mary thought. That’s why she’s been so determined to stock up on supplies.
Parrish left.
“What medical training have you had, Lieutenant?” the Major asked.
“I hold certificates in first aid and emergency nursing.”
“Excellent.” She picked up Mary’s transfer papers. “I see you were stationed in Oxford. With an ambulance unit?”
“Yes, Major.”
“Oh, then you will have met—what is it?” she asked as Parrish leaned in the door.
“Headquarters on the telephone, Major.”
The Major nodded and reached for the receiver. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment…” she said, and into the telephone, “Major Denewell here.” There was a pause. “I am fully aware of that, but my unit needs those blankets. We begin transporting the wounded this afternoon.” She rang off and smiled at Mary. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes, your previous assignments,” she said, looking through her papers. “And I see you drove an ambulance in London during the Blitz. Which part of London?”
“Southwark.”
“Oh, well, then you must know—”
There was a knock on the door. “Yes, come in,” the Major said, and Grenville poked her head in.
“You wanted me, Major?”
“Yes, I want an inventory of all our medical supplies.”
Grenville nodded and left.
“Now, where were we?” the Major said, picking up the transfer papers again.
You were about to ask me about someone I knew in London during the Blitz, Mary thought, bracing herself, but the Major said, “I see your transfer authorization is dated June seventh.”
“Yes, ma’am. I had difficulty obtaining transport. The invasion—”
The Major nodded. “Yes, well, the important thing is that you’re here now. We shall have our hands full over the next few days. Bethnal Green and Croydon will eventually also be transporting patients from hospital in Dover to Orpington, but for now we are the only unit assigned to transport duty. I’m sending you to Dover with Talbot and Fairchild this afternoon. They’ll teach you the route. Has Fairchild shown you the schedule and the duty rosters?”
“Yes, Major.”
“Our job here is extremely important, Lieutenant. This war is not yet won. It can still be lost, unless every one of us does our part. I expect you to do yours.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.”
“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”
She saluted smartly, and started for the door, doing her best not to look like she was escaping. She put her hand on the doorknob. “Just a moment, Lieutenant. You said you were