And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.
William awoke in pain. His head ached, and he couldn’t open his eye. He failed in attempting to lift his head from the pillow it rested on, and fell back with a quiet groan. He struggled to open his eyes and look at his surroundings. Something wasn’t right. He pushed himself up once again, and realized what was wrong. He could only see through one eye. Fear suddenly gripped him; he had lost an eye! He struggled violently with to remove the blanket that covered him, moaning as he swung his legs out of the bed.
He needed to find a mirror. His face felt so swollen, and he couldn’t see. He had to know what had happened. He heard a muffled voice call for something, but he could not make out what was said. He brought his hand up, fearing that he had lost his ear as well. The side of his face felt rough, and odd. It wasn’t his skin he was feeling, but something else. He looked around for a mirror, but felt dizzy once again. William began to fall back, but was caught on the way down.
“Easy you go lad.” A man said, laying him down onto the bed. Will struggled in vain to get back up. The man held him down as others approached. Will couldn’t figure out how many there were, the sounds were all so muffled.
“Well, well, our patient is up I see. Lets get those bandages off and see how your eye looks today…” another man said. Will let out a sigh of relief. It was a bandage covering his eye that was why he had been unable to open it. It would also explain the muffled sound; the bandage covered both his left eye and his ear. Slowly he felt it begin to unwrap. The sudden rush of light as he opened his eye came as a bit of a shock. The light was artificial, he was inside.
“Much better, a day or two and you will be good as new.” The second man said. Will got a better look at him now. He wore a long white coat over an unkempt uniform. He was a doctor. To his right stood a nurse, a young woman who had to be in her twenties at most. Then, to his left was the first man. He wore a long white robe, the same robe that Will noticed himself in.
“Trying to run before you can walk I see.” He said, as the doctor and nurse left to bring him fresh bandages. “Don’t imagine you could walk all that well after the beating you took, especially on a boat.” That explained the artificial lights. They must have set up a temporary hospital inside the boat once the fighting went bad. Will wondered how it was going.
“How are we doing?” He asked, his voice still weak.
“We? We are doing fine my friend, far from the battle.” The other patient said smugly. “You with your roughed up face, and me with my...” the man lifted his leg and dropped his foot beside Will. “Stab wound.” He said with a grin. “Got it on Tuesday I did, someone dropped their bayonet, and crunch, down I go. Hurt it did, but it got me out of that mess.” The man said pointing towards one of the walls.
“So, we are loosing?” Will said. Suddenly his thoughts flashed back to his fellow engineers. They must think him dead. He hadn’t seen them since the failed landing. Then something struck him as odd. “Tuesday? Did you say Tuesday?”
“Yessir. Tuesday, the 27th, in the year of our lord 1915.” The wounded man suddenly drew his foot off the bed and looked around. “I wonder when they are going to be bringing us lunch, usually they aren’t late.”
“Lunch.” Will muttered. It felt like an eternity since he had eaten.
“Yessir, hey you get to actually eat this time. Been a while, you’ve been out for at least four days. I know on account of the fact that that’s how long I’ve been here.” He looked around again. “I want my lunch, this is upsetting…” Then as an afterthought he turned back to Will. “Oh, forgive me. I’m so rude. Paul.” He said, extending his hand to shake. Will weakly lifted his arm and let Paul shake his hand.
“Boy I tell you what, this hospital food could be a lot better.” Paul said when the food finally arrived. He lifted himself up on his crutches and hobbled over to his bed, which was to Will’s right. Will rolled around, to see his left. A man lay in silence, wrapped in white bandage. He did not move, or even seem to take notice of Will. He seemed lost to the world.
“Glad you’re not that fella right?” Paul said with a laugh. He had already dug into the meal that was laid in front of him. Will turned without an answer and looked at his own food. He suddenly felt much less hungry. “Go on, eat up friend. This is much better than what they get out on the island.” Will shot him an angry look, but Paul took no notice. He was too engaged in his own meal.
Will wanted desperately to be back with his friends, to let them know he was still alive. Instead he was stuck in this hospital ship for god knows how long. With men who were either glad to be away, or unable to move. After a few days the number of people in the room grew, and Paul gave each of them the same speech. He told them of his wound, and of Will’s. He told them how he was glad to be out of the fighting, and how they should be thankful to be alive. By the end of the week a few other were joining him in the greeting. Then the man to Will’s left died.
The mood changed quickly. What was once a room full of soldiers just glad to be off the island was now a room of scarred young men. No one had noticed when or how it had happened. A nurse, taking his temperature, began to cry. Paul’s guffawing stopped suddenly, as did the fellows who hung around him. James, James and Robert, all three had clung to Paul’s philosophy, and mannerisms. But the sudden sobs of the nurse silenced all four. Another nurse asked what was wrong.
“He’s dead…” she said quietly between sobs. A few moments later men came in a removed the body from the room. From then on, the laughing was gone, the happiness as well. No more did the men of the hospital boat feel removed from death, safe from harm. Will went to sleep every night and dreamt of the man to his left.