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Authors: Colleen McCullough
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over. The young man’s stay here cannot possibly be any longer than a few weeks. And he could be in worse predicaments than ward X, you know.’
The pencil flipped through the air, bounced onto the corner of the desk and fell with a hollow clatter just to one side of the colonel, who sat wondering whether her aim was good or bad. Strictly speaking, she ought to be reported to Matron; as head of nursing, Matron was the only officer permitted to discipline the nursing staff. But the trouble was that since the incident of the ravished uniform, Matron held Sister Langtry in considerable awe. Lord, what a fuss there would be if he complained!
‘Ward X is a limbo!’ cried Sister Langtry, more angry than he had ever seen her. His curiosity began to stir; Sergeant Michael Wilson’s plight had certainly had an extraordinary effect on her. It might be interesting to see him in the morning after all.
She continued, fuelling her anger on her own words. ‘Ward X is a limbo! The patients no one knows what else to do with are just filed under X and forgotten! You’re a neurologist. I’m a general-trained nurse. Not a whisker of experience or qualification between us. Do you know what to do with these men? I don’t, sir! I grope! I try my best, but I’m miserably aware that it’s nowhere near good enough. I come on duty every single morning praying—praying that I’ll manage to get through the day without crushing one of these frail and difficult people. My men in ward X deserve better than you or I can give, sir.’
‘That is quite enough. Sister!’ he said, a purplish tinge creeping under his skin.
‘Oh, but I’m not finished yet,’ she said, unimpressed, unswerving. ‘Shall we leave Sergeant Wilson entirely out of it, for example? Let’s look at the other five current inmates of ward X. Matt Sawyer was transferred here from neuro when they couldn’t find an organic lesion to account for his blindness. Diagnosis hysteria. You co-signed that one yourself. Nugget Jones was transferred from abdominothoracic after two NAD laparotomies and a history of driving the entire ward mad with his complaining. Diagnosis hypochondria. Neil—Captain Parkinson, that is—had a simple breakdown which one might better call grief. But his CO thinks he’s protecting him, so here Neil continues to sit, month after month. Diagnosis involutional melancholia. Benedict Maynard went quite mad after his company opened fire on a village in which it turned out there were no Japanese at all, just a lot of native women and children and old men. Because he sustained a mild scalp wound at the time his mental problems began, he was admitted to neuro as a concussion, and then transferred here. Diagnosis dementia praecox. I agree with that diagnosis, as a matter of fact. But it means Ben ought to be among the experts in Australia, receiving proper care and attention. And Luce Daggett, why exactly is he here? There’s no diagnosis of any kind on his papers! But we both know why he’s here. Because he was living the life of Riley, blackmailing his commanding officer into letting him do precisely whatever he wanted. But they couldn’t make the charge stick, and they didn’t know what else to do with him except to send him to a place like X until the shooting was all over.’
The colonel stumbled to his feet, crimson with suppressed rage. ‘You are impertinent, Sister!’
‘Do I sound impertinent? I beg your pardon, sir,’ she said, reverting to that unruffled calm which was usually her trademark.
His hand on the door, Colonel Chinstrap paused to look at her. ‘Ten in the morning in my clinic for Sergeant Wilson, and don’t forget to bring him yourself.’ His eyes glittered, he searched for something hurtful to say, a mot capable of penetrating that impregnable facade. ‘I do find it peculiar that Sergeant Wilson, an apparently exemplary soldier, highly decorated, consistently in the front line for six years, has managed to rise no higher
The pencil flipped through the air, bounced onto the corner of the desk and fell with a hollow clatter just to one side of the colonel, who sat wondering whether her aim was good or bad. Strictly speaking, she ought to be reported to Matron; as head of nursing, Matron was the only officer permitted to discipline the nursing staff. But the trouble was that since the incident of the ravished uniform, Matron held Sister Langtry in considerable awe. Lord, what a fuss there would be if he complained!
‘Ward X is a limbo!’ cried Sister Langtry, more angry than he had ever seen her. His curiosity began to stir; Sergeant Michael Wilson’s plight had certainly had an extraordinary effect on her. It might be interesting to see him in the morning after all.
She continued, fuelling her anger on her own words. ‘Ward X is a limbo! The patients no one knows what else to do with are just filed under X and forgotten! You’re a neurologist. I’m a general-trained nurse. Not a whisker of experience or qualification between us. Do you know what to do with these men? I don’t, sir! I grope! I try my best, but I’m miserably aware that it’s nowhere near good enough. I come on duty every single morning praying—praying that I’ll manage to get through the day without crushing one of these frail and difficult people. My men in ward X deserve better than you or I can give, sir.’
‘That is quite enough. Sister!’ he said, a purplish tinge creeping under his skin.
‘Oh, but I’m not finished yet,’ she said, unimpressed, unswerving. ‘Shall we leave Sergeant Wilson entirely out of it, for example? Let’s look at the other five current inmates of ward X. Matt Sawyer was transferred here from neuro when they couldn’t find an organic lesion to account for his blindness. Diagnosis hysteria. You co-signed that one yourself. Nugget Jones was transferred from abdominothoracic after two NAD laparotomies and a history of driving the entire ward mad with his complaining. Diagnosis hypochondria. Neil—Captain Parkinson, that is—had a simple breakdown which one might better call grief. But his CO thinks he’s protecting him, so here Neil continues to sit, month after month. Diagnosis involutional melancholia. Benedict Maynard went quite mad after his company opened fire on a village in which it turned out there were no Japanese at all, just a lot of native women and children and old men. Because he sustained a mild scalp wound at the time his mental problems began, he was admitted to neuro as a concussion, and then transferred here. Diagnosis dementia praecox. I agree with that diagnosis, as a matter of fact. But it means Ben ought to be among the experts in Australia, receiving proper care and attention. And Luce Daggett, why exactly is he here? There’s no diagnosis of any kind on his papers! But we both know why he’s here. Because he was living the life of Riley, blackmailing his commanding officer into letting him do precisely whatever he wanted. But they couldn’t make the charge stick, and they didn’t know what else to do with him except to send him to a place like X until the shooting was all over.’
The colonel stumbled to his feet, crimson with suppressed rage. ‘You are impertinent, Sister!’
‘Do I sound impertinent? I beg your pardon, sir,’ she said, reverting to that unruffled calm which was usually her trademark.
His hand on the door, Colonel Chinstrap paused to look at her. ‘Ten in the morning in my clinic for Sergeant Wilson, and don’t forget to bring him yourself.’ His eyes glittered, he searched for something hurtful to say, a mot capable of penetrating that impregnable facade. ‘I do find it peculiar that Sergeant Wilson, an apparently exemplary soldier, highly decorated, consistently in the front line for six years, has managed to rise no higher
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