to my own sector. If you have him, then I can explain why he isn’t with me.”
“What was he doing in the streets of Rouen, then? If he’d come in with the wounded, why didn’t he say as much?” The officer was losing patience with me.
“I don’t know. He’d been hurt himself.”
“In a fight most likely,” the Sergeant muttered. “We had a-there was a spot of trouble bringing him in.”
I stood there, waiting. Finally the officer said, “All right, Sergeant Brent. Take her to him. If she does know him, we’ll have a name, and then we can find out what he’s running from.”
I wanted to tell the Major that this particular man was resisting arrest because he was to meet me in the morning at the Hotel de Lille. But that would never do.
The Sergeant led me through the maze of the port to the small square building where miscreants and deserters were held until their situation could be determined. As I neared it, the odor of urine, stale spirits, cigarette smoke, and unwashed bodies struck me.
Three of the men incarcerated here were, the Sergeant told me, drunk and disorderly. He asked me to wait outside, and after a moment he brought out a reluctant Captain Barclay, who blinked in the watery morning light and then recognized me. There were new bruises and scrapes on his face, but I read the message in his eyes quite clearly.
I took a deep breath before I spoke.
“What’s to become of him, Sergeant?”
His gaze never leaving the Captain’s face, he said with some satisfaction, “He doesn’t have the proper papers to be in Rouen. Desertion is a capital offense, and so is spying. And if you ask me, he looks more like a blood-a German officer than an orderly. He doesn’t even sound like an Englishman.”
“Yes, well, I expect that’s because he’s Canadian. He’s an orderly, one Private Barclay, and Dr. Hicks can vouch for him.”
“And who is Dr. Hicks when he’s at home?” the Sergeant demanded, turning to look at me. I was suddenly grateful for the nuns’ care in cleaning my coat and cap. The Sergeant was prepared to think the worst.
I told him, but it made no difference. Dr. Hicks wasn’t here, and he wasn’t likely to leave his post to come here and identify this man, much less explain why he had no pass.
We were getting nowhere.
I said, “Very well, take me back to the Major. He’ll have to deal with this matter.”
Turning on my heel, I started back the way I’d come, and the Sergeant was hard-pressed to usher Captain Barclay into his cell and still catch me up before I reached the Major.
I said, as I was summoned to his presence, “The man you have in custody is one Private Barclay, a Canadian. If you will contact Colonel Crawford through the War Office, you will be told why Private Barclay is in Rouen.”
“Sister Crawford? Any relation to this Colonel?” he asked, dubious.
“That’s not the issue here. Please contact the Colonel immediately. It’s urgent business, and he will not care to have this man in your custody any longer than absolutely necessary.”
“How is it that you know so much about this matter?”
I said, showing my exasperation, “I was asked to provide a reason for Private Barclay to pay a brief visit to Rouen. He was the driver who accompanied me when I was transferring patients from the forward aid station to the Base Hospital here.”
He didn’t believe me. But I thought perhaps he was just curious enough about what was going on to contact London.
The Major said, his voice sour, “And if that’s the case, why wasn’t a pass provided?”
“You must ask Colonel Crawford the answer to that. I expect there was no time to see to it.”
“Why Rouen? And why weren’t we told?”
“I’m not Colonel Crawford, Major. You must ask him. I’m overdue at my own post, and must make arrangements to return. I wish you a good morning.”
Before the Major could think of a reason to detain me as well, I left his untidy office and walked away from the port with some misgivings.
And what was I to do now? I was hungry and it was starting to rain. I had no papers assigning me to transport to England, and I wasn’t likely to be given them by this officer. I still had no way to reach my father. My best hope was that the Major would indeed contact him, and once the Colonel Sahib heard that Captain Barclay was in difficulty, he would assume that I needed help as well.
The only thing left to me, then, was to go to the Base Hospital, beg paper and pen, and then haunt the port until I found a Naval officer I knew by sight. With a smile and some excuse such as not having had time to write before this, it might be possible to persuade him to carry my letter to Portsmouth and post it there.
The American nurse in charge this morning looked askance at me when I was ushered into her tidy office. The small board on her desk identified her as Nurse Bailey.
“Sister Crawford? What can I do for you?”
“My transport back to the aid station hasn’t come,” I said pleasantly. “Is there somewhere I could sit and write letters? They will reach England sooner if I can hand them to someone at the port.”
I could see that she was of two minds about offering me space. She was new to me, a small woman with light brown hair and a thin scar on her cheek. Pursing her lips, she considered me.
“The convoy back to your sector has already left,” she told me primly. “You came in with wounded, I think? I was just going off duty.”
I held on to my patience. “I’ve been posted to Passchendaele. Ypres. I was to meet someone here to transfer me to that sector. But he hasn’t come.”
“On the contrary. He was here looking for you at six o’clock this morning.”
She lifted a sheet of paper from a basket to one side of her desk and read what someone had written there.
“ ‘Driver arrived for one Sister Crawford. He was informed that she was not staying with us, and he left. No message.’ ”
“Indeed!” I said, repressing the urge to look over my shoulder. “Who took that down, may I ask?”
“Nurse Saunders, I believe. She would have been on duty.”
“Would it be possible to speak to her? It’s rather important.”
“It is not possible. What are we to do with you, Sister Crawford? It would seem-and I must say your appearance rather bears it out-that you have mislaid your driver, rather than the other way around.”
I lost my temper. It had been a long night, I’d had a fright, dealt with the recalcitrant port authorities trying to release Captain Barclay, and now this woman was treating me as if I had spent the night carousing and found myself too late for my transport. I’d only come here for pen, paper, and an opportunity to write to my father.
I said coldly, “If you care to look into my movements, I suggest you send someone to the convent where I spent the night. The nuns there will be happy to confirm that I chose to stay with them rather than go to an hotel as a woman alone. Now, will you allow me to write my letters or not?”
“I think not, Sister.” She reached for paper and took up her pen. After a moment she considered what she had written and then said, “Your nursing service has very high standards, Sister Crawford. I am sending you to England for proper disciplining. One of our orderlies will escort you to the port, see you aboard the first available ship bound for Portsmouth, and hand this letter to the First Officer to be delivered to the proper authority as soon as you land at your destination. Do I make myself clear?” She was reaching for an envelope as she spoke, inserting the letter into it and sealing it.
I had to bite my tongue at the reprimand. I was getting what I wanted, actually, an opportunity to sail to England straightaway. Once there I could deal with these charges easily enough. And I could reach my father by telephone when I had landed, and set Captain Barclay free even sooner than I’d expected.
And then I had a brilliant notion.
I said, in as petulant a tone as I could muster, “It’s not fair that I have to be sent home. What about the orderly who got me into this trouble? The port authority is holding him, but is he being sent home in disgrace? I think not! You are a woman, Nurse Bailey. Do you think it right that he escapes scot-free? He’s in the Army Medical Services just as I am. Because he’s a man, should his dereliction of duty be seen in a lesser light than mine?”
I watched her eyes. They narrowed as I was finishing.
