Page 17 of Sisters Under The Rising Sun
Norah doesn’t need to ask him what or why. She picks up her violin, never far from her hands. She can’t stop the tears that come as the beautiful notes of Brahms’ ‘Lullaby’ soothe a sleepy Sally, who leans back against her father’s shoulder.
‘I’m sure she is fine. Now come on, let’s see what I can find that can be made into these bandages.’ Margaret instinctively knows that a bit of bustle is the way to snap Norah out of her misery.
The mood lightens as Margaret lifts petticoats and bloomers from her suitcase, along with starched blouses and skirts. Clasping a cotton slip between her hands and teeth, she tears off strips of fabric.
Nesta and the nurses are allocated a hut to themselves. For the first time, they are alone, unsure of where they are or who is missing. Nesta quickly counts heads.
‘Thirty of us. Sixty-five boarded theVyner Brooke. We have to hope and pray others will join us when they’re found. Come on, girls, let’s work together to make the most of our new home.’
‘Should we explore outside? We need to find a bathroom and some water,’ someone asks.
‘It’s not like any of us have anything to unpack,’ another adds. ‘What I’d give for a new uniform, even one without a petticoat.’
The nurses from Nesta’s division burst out laughing, the others look puzzled.
‘What’s up?’ one asks.
‘You tell them, Jean. You can tell it best,’ Nesta says.
‘Well, it was like this. When we first got to Malaya, we had our heavy, hot uniforms from home. They just weren’t appropriate for us in the tropics. Matron got permission for a local tailor to make us more suitable, you know, lightweight uniforms. Made from cotton, with short sleeves.’
‘And?’
‘Oh, they were lovely, we really liked them until …’
The nurses burst out laughing again.
‘Until what?’
‘It happened a week or two after we’d been wearing them. We’d noticed that on night shift the soldiers we were looking after kept asking us to come to their bedside and when we got there, they didn’t really need anything. We thought they just wanted company and didn’t think anything of it. Anyway, I was working one night when Matron stopped by. She immediately ordered me out of the ward and told me that the night lighting in the soldiers’ room made our uniforms see-through; they could see right through to our underwear.’
‘Guess who was always offering to cover night shift?’ another nurse calls out.
‘You? Was it you, Nesta? Oh, my goodness, how did you feel when you found out?’
‘Oh, once you get to know our Sister James, you will learn that she just laughs everything off. No one laughs as much as she does,’ comes the reply.
When the nurses return from surveying the camp, several share the news of a dormitory that might possibly be used as a hospital. Three doctors are already installed, and the women asked if they could work with them. Those back in the hut, on hearing the news, hurry to the vacant hut, introduce themselves to the doctors, and, with an energy that none of them really possesses, set about making it ready.
‘I’ll speak to the Japanese soldiers and see if we can get some beds and blankets, and of course equipment and medication,’ one of the doctors says.
‘Do you think they will give you anything?’ a nurse asks.
‘Don’t know until we ask. It will tell us just how they expect us to take care of our most basic needs, medically speaking.’
As they are relaying this information to the nurses back in their hut, an older woman enters the room.
‘Hello, all. I’m Margaret Dryburgh and I’m in the hut two down from you.’
Nesta steps forwards, her hand outstretched.
‘Nice to meet you, Margaret, my name is Nesta, we are—’
‘Australian nurses, yes, I know. The word has spread. It’s lovely to meet you.’
‘I wish I could offer you something, but, as you can see, we’re a little low on supplies.’
Margaret smiles wryly.
