‘You’d be welcome at the barracks,’ the soldier said with a smile. ‘Well, at least the men would welcome you, but the sergeant might have something to say.’
Kathy smiled. ‘I think I’ll pass on that,’ she said.
‘Maybe the taxi driver knows of somewhere. I should check it out before you get to the hospital.’
Kathy thanked him, but once in the taxi she knew she had to see Barry right away. The problem of where she was to spend the night could wait. She’d passed through the countryside in the train without really taking it in, but in the taxi she was surprised by the sea, calm and sparkling in the mid-June afternoon. There were many couples strolling arm-in-arm as if they hadn’t a care in the world, and yet the men, almost without exception, were in uniform, and Kathy knew the reality was quite different.
She lost no time when the taxi stopped outside the hospital, but hurried inside to find someone who could tell her where Barry was and when she could see him. Shortly after she entered the building she was confronted by a nurse whose name tag identified her as Sister Hopkins. ‘Mrs O’Malley?’ she said, when Kathy had introduced herself.
‘Yes, I’m Barry’s wife,’ Kathy said, nervous before the stern-faced woman and almost frightened now she’d got this far. ‘Can, can I see him?’
‘Well, it’s most irregular.’
‘Oh, please,’ Kathy said. ‘I’ve come all the way from Birmingham. My family are desperate for news of him and I’ve left behind two very worried weans.’
Sister Hopkins stared at the woman in front of her. She was startling to look at, with her raven-black hair and deep-brown eyes, but her face was pasty white and there were black rings circling the eyes. She was far advanced in pregnancy and yet had come halfway across the country to see her man. ‘Maybe you can see him for a little while,’ she said.
‘Is…is he badly injured?’
‘No, not really,’ the nurse said. ‘He has shrapnel wounds to his head and abdomen and his left arm is badly lacerated – we thought at one point he might lose it, but the doctor has managed to save it, at least so far. We have to keep an eye on it in case of infection, and of course only time will tell if he’ll ever regain full use of it.’ She looked at Kathy’s startled face and said, ‘Believe me, Mrs O’Malley, your husband was one of the lucky ones.’
Kathy stared open-mouthed, amazed that someone could talk with so little emotion of removing a limb. Sister Hopkins caught her look and said, ‘You should see some of the poor beggars lifted from the beaches of Dunkirk.’
Not to mention those left behind. Neither woman said it, but both thought it.
Barry lay staring at the ceiling, a bandage swathed about his head and his face as white as the pillow he lay on. Kathy said nothing till she stood beside the bed and then she whispered, ‘Barry.’
He turned his head, and though Kathy could tell that he was pleased to see her, his enthusiasm was slightly forced. There was something lurking behind his eyes. ‘Kath!’ he cried. ‘God, when did you…how did you?’
‘We were informed you were here,’ Kathy said. ‘I had to come and see you, the weans were asking for you.’ She spread her empty hands and said, ‘I couldn’t stop to buy anything, not indeed that there’s much in the shops.’
‘No, no, it’s all right,’ Barry quickly reassured her. ‘To see you is enough.’ He passed his unbandaged hand across his eyes and said, ‘You’ve heard about Pat, I suppose?’
‘Just before I left, yes,’ Kathy said. ‘“Missing presumed dead”, the telegram said.’
‘Oh, he’s dead all right,’ Barry said, almost harshly, and then, catching sight of Kathy’s stricken face, went on, ‘I’m sorry, that was bloody clumsy.’ He took Kathy’s hand and said, ‘I know you loved him, and I did too, funny that coming from a bloke, but he was the best mate I ever had. I’d known him from the day we started school together and that was that really, it was always us together against the world. I met you through knowing your Pat, and even after our marriages we were mates. God!’ he cried. ‘What a bloody waste.’
‘What happened?’ Kathy said. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘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