1

Number 1 Australian General Hospital, Heliopolis, Cairo, Friday, 25 February 1916

Lucy studied the young man on the stretcher. He’d been stoic as she’d changed the dressing on his stump, not a single grumble or complaint, although it must have been painful when she removed the old bandage. The wound was healing well without any sign of the gangrene that had infected the first amputation, and the doctors had closed the flaps two days earlier. As she’d cleaned the wound she’d admired the neat sutures, and hoped that she’d be as professional after she’d completed her doctor’s training, but that would have to wait until the end of the war.

As usual she’d struggled to keep the site sterile, but despite her efforts, she’d been unable to prevent dust settling on the wound.

Thekhamsin had been blowing for over a week, the searing wind stirring up dirt that penetrated every crevice. The marquee wards gave no protection and in an effort to provide a more hygienic environment the ablutions room had been converted into a dressing station, but the door and windows were poorly fitted so that even in that tiled concrete building thekhamsin dominated and the air was filled with swirling sand as fine as talcum powder.

She hadn’t seen the man before and she checked his record card. AIF—10 Batt. 3 Bde. Anzac.

‘What happened to your leg?’ It was the seventh question she’d asked, but so far the man had not spoken. He’d stared at the ceiling as if he were a spectator and not the major player in the tiny drama.

‘Frost bite. One foot was too far gone to save.’

Lucy had known the answer before she’d asked. It was in his notes, but it had been another attempt to open the conversation.

‘That’s a relief.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘I was beginning to wonder if you’d lost your tongue as well as your leg. Where did it happen?’

‘Gallipoli.’

She became serious. ‘I thought that was over. I thought we’d pulled out of Gallipoli at the end of last year.’

A smile crept across the soldier’s face, but it turned into a grimace of pain before it had fully developed. A few seconds passed before his breathing steadied and he said, ‘Sorry, Sister. Didn’t mean to be rude, but I was wondering what the future holds… It is over. At least the fighting is.’ He sighed, then lapsed into silence again.

‘I’ve heard it was bad. What was it really like?’ If she could get him to talk he might begin to feel better.

‘Bad… It was bad, all right. A bloody fiasco. A bloody blood bath. All those men killed and we achieved nothing.’ The soldier paused, staring across to the door where another patient was being carried in. ‘Eight months I’d been there. I landed with the first wave at the end of April, but it was the cold that did for me. We’d no decent cloth