Love Me Tender

‘Oh, aye, I’ll talk about it. Like lambs to the bleeding slaughter we were,’ Barry said bitterly. ‘It was bedlam, the Jerries advancing and we had orders to retreat to the beaches. We got separated from our company, Pat and I, as he copped it early on.’

‘Copped it?’

‘Bullets,’ Barry said. ‘One shattered his knee and the other was in his chest. By the time I’d strapped him up and turned round, the rest had gone on and it was just the two of us. We met up with others on the way, stragglers like us who’d got separated from their units for one reason or another. I half carried Pat to the beach where I thought we might have a chance, not much of a bloody chance, but the only chance we had.

‘There was constant bombing and the Stukas screaming above us, raining down bullets. It was hell on earth, Kath,’ Barry said. ‘The bombs fell that thick and fast, you couldn’t think straight with the noise of them and the screaming and yelling all around. You’d see men fall into the craters from a bomb directly in front of you and then the next blast would cover them up. It was a massacre. I could see some blokes had pushed jeeps into the sea to make a sort of jetty. The destroyers were way out, not able to come in any nearer, and there were all these boats, not military things, yachts, cruisers. Kath, you’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘We heard on the news and read about it,’ Kathy said.

‘Aye, but nothing could describe the sight of those little pleasure cruisers shuttling between the jetty and the larger ships put out in deeper water,’ Barry said. ‘They were under constant fire and yet they just carried on as if they were on a pleasure trip. It was a bloody miracle. Me and Pat were starving hungry, thick with mud and dog tired, soaked to the skin and shaking with cold, but these little boats brought a smile even to my lips.

‘But I could see Pat was sinking fast and the blood was seeping through the bandaging I’d put on. Then people who’d stood on the jetty for hours for rescue, just as tired, scared and miserable as us, made way for Pat, seeing that he was injured. I put him into a dinghy that came alongside,’ Barry went on. ‘He wanted me along with him, but it was wounded first. Not yet, I said, I’ll see you later in good old Blighty.

‘“Hold you to it, mate,” Pat said, “we’ll have a pint together.”

‘I watched him sail away and saw them haul him onto the destroyer. I remember thinking how that must have hurt him, but now at least he had a chance; they’d have medical people on board and maybe he could get out of his wet things, and they’d certainly be able to find him something to eat. I wanted to cheer. And then I saw the Messerschmitts, flying in low. I started to scream, stupid really, but I wasn’t the only one. When the first bombs fell, I jumped in the water. Didn’t know really what I was hoping to do. There I was, thrashing about and getting nowhere. Then the grey foamy water closed over my head and I thought this is it, and then I felt hands clawing at me. Two blokes had lain full stretch across the jeeps to reach me, with others holding their legs to stop them toppling in. They were yelling, “Grab on, mate, Grab on,” and d’you know, Kath, I nearly didn’t bother, and then I thought of you and the weans and I reached out for their hands. God, it seemed to take hours. I was tired and so was every other bugger and I was weighed down by my clothes. People reached out and caught my tunic and pulled me up on to the jetty. I lay for a minute getting my breath back and spluttering and coughing. By the time I was able to look up again the ship was gone, blown to kingdom come and nothing to show for it but a few dead bodies and debris littering the water.

‘I was so stunned, I wasn’t ready for the Stukas that seemed to come from nowhere. That’s how I copped for all this,’ said Barry, touching the bandage on his head. ‘And they got my belly and nearly sheared my arm clean off. And you know the other sad thing, Kath? The two blokes that pulled me out of the water and were so concerned with me, they didn’t take cover themselves and both were killed beside me.’

‘Oh, Barry.’ Tears were raining down Kathy’s face and, she realised with shock, down her husband’s too.

‘You know what tortures me?’ Barry said brokenly. ‘I keep thinking that if we’d stayed where we were when Pat was first hit, the Germans would have picked us up. They’d have seen to Pat’s leg and chest and he’d be bloody alive by now, even if he was a prisoner.’

Kathy shook her head. ‘He couldn’t stand being locked up,’ she said, and then added, ‘I don’t suppose there was a chance Pat might have made it? I mean, he couldn’t have been in the water and been picked up by a boat somewhere?’

Barry shook his head. ‘Not a chance,’ he said. ‘He wasn’t only tired and starving like the rest of us, but badly wounded too, and very weak. He’d never have survived. They did look; two or three boats diverted and cruised around for a bit when the ship went down. Like I said, it was just dead bodies. I was out of it by then, with my arm near hanging off, and bleeding from my head and guts. I was on the next boat out, not that I knew much about it. Most of the time I was raving. We put in at Dover where they patched me up and sent me here as a non-urgent case. They were run off their feet down there, and you should have seen the poor buggers…’ Barry stopped and wiped at his eyes before saying, ‘Kath, Pat was the greatest mate I ever had, or am likely to have. There’ll never be another like him, but he’s gone and we’ve all got to accept it.’

Kathy wiped her own face with a small handkerchief she drew from her bag, then said, ‘What about Michael and the others?’

‘They were all alive when last I saw them,’ Barry said. ‘That’s all I know. The beaches were chaos, there was no chance of seeing anyone there.’

‘You really must leave now, Mrs O’Malley,’ said Sister Hopkins’ voice at Kathy’s elbow. Neither of them had heard her approach in her soft-soled shoes.

‘Not yet,’ protested Barry.

‘I’m sorry, Mr O’Malley, but your wife has been here some time and she shouldn’t really have got in at all.’

‘When will you come again?’ Barry cried.

‘Maybe tomorrow,’ Kathy said, eyeing the nurse. ‘I’ll not get back to Birmingham today with trains the way they are. I’ll look for somewhere to stay for tonight and, if Sister agrees, come and see you tomorrow before I go back.’

‘It’s most irregular, Mrs O’Malley,’ Sister Hopkins said again.

‘I know, but it will have to last Barry a long time,’ Kathy said.

‘And it will help me get better, Sister, honest,’ Barry put in. ‘Then I’ll be out of your hair altogether.’

Sister Hopkins pursed her lips and said to Kathy as she bent to kiss Barry goodbye, ‘You’ll have to work it out with the times of your trains, but the doctors are usually finished by ten o’clock.’

Just as Kathy was about to answer, the man in the next bed shouted, ‘Good on you, Sister. He’s a bleeding hero, Barry. Got to look after us heroes, they’ll need us all before this lot’s over.’

Kathy glanced at him. She saw there were seven other men besides Barry in the ward, but on her way in she hadn’t noticed any of them. She’d had eyes only for her husband. She saw all the men watching her now with interest. Sister Hopkins glanced sternly at the man who had spoken and said, ‘Really, Mr Stoddard, we look after everyone well here.’

Mr Stoddard looked not a bit abashed and instead winked at Kathy. She found herself smiling back at him. ‘Good-bye,’ she said, and there was a chorus of farewells from the other beds.

She stopped at the door to wave to Barry and the other men and hurried after Sister Hopkins. ‘Is there a café locally?’ Kathy asked the nurse, when they were out of earshot of the ward.

‘I believe you need a place to stay too,’ Sister Hopkins said. ‘I did hear you say that, didn’t I?’

‘Oh, aye, do you know of one?’ Kathy asked eagerly.

‘Mrs O’Malley, the town is heaving with soldiers. I think it would be very difficult to find a place tonight.’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘And if you don’t mind me saying so, you look all in.’

‘I am rather tired. It’s the emotion and everything.’

‘I suggest, then, that you come home with me tonight.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t…’

‘You can hardly sleep on a park bench, my dear,’ Sister Hopkins said with a smile, and Kathy realised that behind the frosty exterior was a very kind woman. ‘I’m sure my sofa will be quite comfortable,’ she went on. ‘And though there are many cafés around, the nurse’s canteen is cheaper and I can take you in as a guest. I’m off duty at six, if you could just wait a while.’

‘Oh, aye, oh, thank you,’ Kathy cried.

The nurse went on: ‘There’s a reception area where you could sit. I’ll show you. Oh, and by the way, when we are away from the hospital, my name is Peggy.’

Oh, thought Kathy, how kind people were, and if only she could get over this feeling of sadness at the death of her beloved brother…She’d sort of faced it before she’d left home, but when he was said to be missing she’d felt there was always a chance that he’d be found. Now that chance was gone. She knew she’d never see Pat again, and that hurt. The way Barry had described the hell-hole of Dunkirk, it was amazing that anyone had got out of it alive, but Barry had, and she must latch on to that and hope that with God’s help, Sean, Michael and Con were all safe too.

She was surprised how much better she felt with a meal inside her, and while she ate she found herself telling Sister Hopkins about all her family. ‘They’ll be worried,’ she said. ‘Mammy and Daddy especially, and my little girl Lizzie.’

‘Can you phone?’

Kathy looked at the nurse in amazement. ‘We haven’t a phone,’ she said.

Sister Hopkins realised she’d made an error. ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘Has anyone else, a shop perhaps?’

‘Pickering’s have, I believe,’ Kathy said.

‘Are they far away?’

‘No, not far, and they’d pass on a message.’

‘Well then, there’s a phone in the hospital,’ Sister Hopkins said. ‘You can tell them you’re safe at least, and will be home tomorrow.’

‘I…I don’t know how to use a phone. I’ve never had to,’ Kathy confessed.