Hello! To start off, I'm sorry for the awful awful hiatus this was put on. This was because, well I moved countries! I'm back in Ireland, where I was born. My family had some issues, and it was best resolved by moving back. I'm adjusting fine, I guess you could say, I've really missed the place. I'll probably miss Canada more than anything. Anyway, I've updated so enjoy! :)
"Jaysus Christ," groaned the green eyed and fiery haired soldier who sat tensely upon a table in front of Josie. Her fingers gingerly put pressure on his forehead. The alcohol-dipped cloth she applied was cold as it nipped her fingers; she could feel a slight burning sensation on the tips of them.
"It's you fookin' yanks, I'm telling yah!" he shouted, half directing it at his mates. "Could yah be a bit mo' gentle lohv?"
Dear God. So this is it is it? War, isn't it lovely?
So far London had been fan-fucking-tastic. Sarcasm intended.
After Georgia, Josie and the rest of her nursing squad had been stuck on a plane and journeyed to somewhere she'd always want to go- the acclaimed and fabulous London England.
At first, she had been nearly ripping at the seams with excitement. London had always seemed so romantic; on the plane she had closed her eyes and pictured herself getting her photograph taken outside of the Buckingham Palace, or maybe looking in shops around Piccadilly Circus. Sending souvenirs back home, bragging to her brothers and sisters how lovely it is. Ah, she never thought her Mum had been right when she told her "things aren't always as they seem, Josie".
So far, she hadn't even seen the outside of her residence and the hospital.
Josie removed the cloth from the ginger boy's forehead, revealing a grotesque two-inch gash. The soldier glared at her, bitterly pressing his lips together. Charming English fellas weren't as she imagined them to be, she guessed.
"I'm going to have to stich it up," she said, reaching under her trolley for the needles and thread.
The soldier leapt up from the table, dusting off his trousers and jamming his hands in his pockets.
"Nah, that's not convenient for me lohv."
Josie rolled her eyes. She was used to this by now, all of her patients seemed to be unwilling to cooperate; if she could even classify them as patients. That was the thing- the W.A.C had sent her squad to England to gain some experience before venturing out to the lines, yet this could barely be called experience. She hadn't even seen a bullet wound yet. Every injury she had treated had come from some easily preventable accident or alcohol fueled mishap, such as this one. This young soldier had been carelessly driving around his army base with his mates, and had to slam on his brakes in order to avoid a motorcycle. In the process his forehead got a very nice smooch from his dashboard.
"Look buddy, I've got to stitch it or next time you raise your eyebrows you won't be able to see because there'll be blood running into your eyes. And that won't be very convenient, now will it?" she chirruped, crossing her arms in front of her.
The redheaded soldier smirked and leaned in to Josie, his face close enough that she backed away, her foot catching the trolley. After an awkward second to regain her balance and many laughs from England's finest soldiers, she could feel the blood running to her cheeks.
"Don't be blinkered about this, lohv. I've got to do my job out there for tha great-uh good of all of us," he said smoothly with a wink.
"Yeah but if I let you go, then I'm not doing my job either, and that affects the greater good of all of us," Josie sneered, biting her lip in blatant distaste for this man.
Another man behind her was cackling hysterically. She turned around to glare at him. He had mousy brown hair, slicked to the side with perfection. His teeth were a bit wonky and he had nostrils larger then the average human being. He had a black eye and his left arm in a sling; a cigarette dangled out of his mouth.
"This one," he said, taking out his cigarette and pointing it towards her. "She's barmy, I like her."
Josie stomped over to him, and with one quick grab, snatched the dart out of his hand. He stared at her, appalled.
"You can't smoke in here!" she snapped. Instead, he grinned.
"You got a boyfriend, little girl?"
At this question, she flinched a little bit. Her first instinct was to tell the truth, with some witty and derogatory comment to catch him off guard. But then, there was always that thought creeping into the back of her head. The thought that honestly and truly, she did have another half, someone who was on the other side of the world or who knows where. Sometimes Josie ever wondered if she could ever find herself a male companion that wasn't George. As soon as she thought it, she always shook that thought away. He was long gone now. They only thing keeping them close now was letters that arrived months apart. The next time they'd ever see each other was god-knows-when. Could be never, could be a few years if they were lucky.
Ugh, this guy on the other hand, what a creep. Is this how men work? They are completely rude and insensitive to you and then ask you out on a date? Seriously?
"I'm married actually," she retorted and went back to go reach for her needle and thread. "To your commanding officer."
He threw his head back with wild chuckles. "Dogs bollocks, love! I don't see no ring on yah," he gestured to her hand.
"We aren't permitted to work with jewelry," she snapped, glaring.
He winked once again, licking his lips. "Well if you change your mind, let me know if you fancy a drink, yeah?"
"Thanks but no thanks. Would you please sit down so I can stitch you up, sir?" she asked, turning to the other solider, who was leaning casually against the table. All she wanted was for this to be over. She just wanted to get out of this place, to actually play her part in this war. That's the reason she enlisted of course- to help people who needed it. Not dealing with unintelligent still in training privates. Whether she was saving a brother, a father or a husband, it didn't matter, just as long as she kept their precious life in tact she was doing her job right.
"Attention!" she heard a bellowing voice come from the back of the warehouse-like room. For once in her life, she was relieved to hear an American accent. The British soldiers immediately jerked out of their beds and stood forward, in a perfect salute.
Her commanding officer, General Rawlkins, stepped into view. "All nurses of the 13th Army Nurse Corps report to the Miles Wing immediately," he glanced about the room. "Carry on."
He strutted out of the room, and Josie had her chance to smirk at the cheeky privates, who had plopped back down into their beds and chairs.
"That would be me, gentlemen," she said, tipping an invisible hat at them. She began to saunter out of the room and turned around smoothly. "You'd better get comfortable, because I'll be back."
She made her way to the Wing that revealed a large, almost warehouse like room filled with chairs that previously weren't there. Josie observed that a large map was stapled to the wall at the front of the room. She strained her neck to see what the map said, but was too far away to recognize the words on it. It appeared to be some sort of a coastline though. Was it North Africa? Italy? She couldn't tell. Noticing her friend Gracie already sitting, she took a seat beside her.
"Have any clue what this is all about?" Josie inquired as she wiggled her bum into wood of the chair, until she was satisfied with comfort.
"Dunno," Gracie said, biting the inside skin of her lip, her blue eyes not bothering to make eye contact with Josie. "I'm thinking it's about D-Day, judging by that map of Normandy over there."
Josie nodded. Her and they other girls had only heard about D-Day briefly, and not from officers of any sort. While treating the brutish brit boys, she could catch tidbits of information that they slipped to one another about the infamous invasion of Nazi seized Europe. All she heard was that they would storm a beach somewhere up on the Coast of France, though she wouldn't have been bothered much considering this may not affect her; however, there was a man it did affect that meant a great deal to her, therefore she perked her ears up like a dog whenever opportunity arose.
Nurses of the 13th Division began to file into the room in clusters, until every seat was occupied. General Rawlkins stepped up where he was visible to everyone, and cleared his throat. The hushed speech in the room immediately dropped down into silence.
"Nurses of the 13th Division of The Army Nurses Corps of America," he began, folding his arms behind his back. "As of last year, our allied commanders have been planning a well-formulated assault on Nazi claimed territory in Europe. Our objective, of course, is to liberate those who have been overruled by this ruthless dictatorship, and eventually have Germany surrender," he paused, drawing in a deep breath and scanning the crowd, seeing if any reaction was evoked from his speech.
"This amphibious assault is scheduled for the sixth of June. Our finest troops from the United Kingdom and our neighbour Canada have been training mercilessly and we have the greatest confidence in them. We will have Marine Infantry storm the beaches of Normandy and Airbourne Divisions drop behind enemy lines."
Josie's stomach dropped at the Airbourne name. That was George. She could already feel pangs of worry building up inside her. Behind enemy lines. She never really thought about the danger of it, that thought never penetrated her so deeply that she realized the danger that he was getting into. For a moment, just one moment she hoped with everything she had he would be safe.
"Now, your part in this," the General started once again, "The 13th Division will be aiding in this procedure by creating infirmaries around the county of Normandy. These aid stations will be placed at convenient measures for our troops, yet not in the eye of German realms."
He once again took in a lengthy breath and continued, "On June 6th at Eleven Hundred hours we will transport you on a British supply. You will arrive at this port," he tapped on a small protrusion of land on the map, "Quistreham. By the time you arrive the Caen River should be overtaken by our British and Canadian troops; if the initial invasion succeeds that is."
Josie could feel excitement broiling within her. Finally, she thought. Finally we get out of this place, finally we can actually help; actually do something we worked so hard for.
"More information will be given as the day of Operation Overlord comes closer. Your role in this invasion is vital; with the help of your motivation, intelligence and kind hearts our troops will be lead into success. Women of the 13th, God blesses you. Don't let us down."
With that, the General proceeded to leave the room. That last sentence gave Josie chills. Don't let us down. What was that supposed to mean? Was she going to be a shit nurse? They had hardly gained experience to begin with! The only things she had worked on so far were dead pigs and soldiers with black eyes from a drunken rumble!
Horrifying scenes of bloody and blue soldiers began to creep into Josie's mind. What if she couldn't handle it, what if she froze at the sight of them? She pictured them, gasping for their last breath in front of her, while she just stood and watched…
She shook it away. She had to shake it away, she couldn't think like that. She had to be a good nurse, for all those soldiers out there who needed her.
Most of all, she needed to be a good nurse if he ever needed her.