The nurses made quite a festive occasion out of the Fourth of July.
Although it was midwinter, Northern Australia was close enough to the
equator for the weather to be like midsummer at home. Nancy as chairman
of the program committee, started weeks ahead trying to collect flags
and bunting to decorate the wards. Miss Anna Darien and the Red Cross
workers back in Sydney sent her boxes that were real gold mines for her
purpose.
Their hospital was not far from a camp of negro soldiers from the
states. These colored men were primarily employed in pushing convoys
through northern Australia. Nancy, knowing how beautifully some of them
sang, suggested that Major Reed invite a group over to entertain the
wounded on their American holiday.
Nancy feared rain might spoil their program, which was to be outdoors,
but she took chances on having the bandstand arranged in the middle of
the street within view of most of the buildings. Though they had
sloshed through enough rain to float a transport the last weeks, the
sky actually cleared a few hours before time for their program.
For a change the nurses all donned their white uniforms, and in spite
of the heat the medical officers put on coats and ties. The
convalescents, still in pajamas, were supplied with benches around the
bandstand. Everyone seemed excited at the prospect of a little
diversion.
“Say, but you look like an angel in that white uniform,” Bruce
exclaimed when he saw Nancy.
He could walk almost erect now, without bending to the pain in his
side. He had been given new clothes, which he wore for the first time
that day, and Nancy thought him even more handsome than ever in his
lieutenant’s uniform.
“You’re not bad-looking yourself,” she told him.
“For the forty-ninth time, do I look good enough to be your husband?”
“Now, Bruce,” she began severely, “I have to keep my mind on this
program and can’t think of the future just now.”
“All right! All right!” he said and grinned impishly. “I won’t ask you
again today, but I make no promises for tomorrow.”
“I have a surprise for you,” she said, when she was about to leave him
on one of the seats. “Hope you’ll like it.”
“I like anything you do,” he assured her.
“I’m not so sure,” she retorted. “Remember, I’m from Georgia and you
from New York state.”
“I can’t imagine what difference that would ever make.”
“Just wait and see.”
The convalescents’ band led off with _The Star Spangled Banner_. Though
Nancy had stood at attention a thousand times or more she still
thrilled to the stirring music, and her heart swelled with pride that
she was now an essential part of these great armies, intent upon
keeping their own flags waving over all the lands of the free and homes
of the brave.
After the national anthem Lieutenant Hauser led the nurses in singing
_America the Beautiful_. Then the negro chorus stepped forward to give
them a program of spirituals in sonorous, harmonizing voices. First
they chanted _I’m Goin’ Down De River o’ Jordan_. Then their choir
leader sang a solo with a group behind him humming an accompaniment,
soft and sweet as any deep-toned organ. They finished off their first
group with _Swing Low, Sweet Chariot_, which brought such storms of
applause the spiritual had to be repeated.
When the hospital band struck up a march a group of nurses stepped out,
bearing flags of the Allied Nations, and took a snappy turn around the
flagpole. Every spectator, down to the last crippled convalescent,
sprang to his feet and stood at salute. Then suddenly Sousa’s march
blended into the lilting strains of _Dixie_. As the gallant music rang
through the Australian bush, Nancy, who carried the American flag in
the center of the group of nations, suddenly unfurled a small
Confederate flag beneath the Stars and Stripes.
Bruce Williams and Pat Walden, standing on the sidelines, were the
first to notice the battle-scarred Stars and Bars, and started
cheering. The colored troops caught their enthusiasm and began to sing
with the band. A moment later every spectator was singing the old song
with all the zest possible. When the band crashed out the last notes
the marching group broke up amid much clapping and cheers.
“You made a real hit with that, Nancy,” said Major Reed when Nancy went
back to the grandstand where he sat.
The Major gave a brief talk on the cause for which they were fighting.
He praised the fine courage of the men who had already paid so great a
price, and spoke words of commendation for the nurses and doctors who
were serving them so faithfully.
After the outdoor program Nancy and Miss Hauser went into the wards
with the negro chorus which was glad to sing the familiar songs over
and over so that all might hear.
When they had finished Nancy and Miss Hauser were thanking the singers
when Nancy said to Sam Turner, leader of the chorus, “There’s surely
something very familiar about your face, Sam.”
Sam’s wide mouth spread in a grin, “Reckon so. Plenty people seen dis
mug, Miss. I used to be porter on de Dixie Flyer—dat special ’tween
New York and Miami.”
“Oh, then maybe I’ve seen you there. I used to catch that train north
sometimes.”
“Dem wus de days,” said Sam, rolling his eyes. “Many’s de time I pick
up fifty dollar in tips on de way down.” He grinned knowingly. “Dey wus
neber quite so flush comin’ back from Florida in de spring.”
“That’s all a thing of the past now, Sam—till we get this big job
done,” said Nancy.
“Yas’m, sho is, Miss. I’se mighty glad to see y’all folks from down
home he’pin’ wid it.”
When the singers had driven away, Nancy’s superior officer turned to
her and said, “We have you to thank for a wonderful program, Nancy. I
had no idea you could get up anything so nice.”
“Thanks,” said Nancy happily. “It really went off more smoothly than I
expected. But I never could have done it without Miss Anna Darien, and
the Red Cross back in Sydney. They got me the colors for decorations,
and the flags of the different countries.”
“Not the confederate flag?” questioned Lieutenant Hauser, and smiled
reminiscently at the hurrah it had created.
Nancy lowered her eyes self-consciously. “I was a little nervous as to
how they might receive that,” she admitted.
“You made quite a hit. I’m sure I never felt such a wave of enthusiasm
as they put into _Dixie_.”
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[Illustration: _“There’s Something Familiar About Your Face, Sam.”_]
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“So many of the boys here at the hospital are southern boys,” Nancy
explained. “And I knew the negroes would love it.”
“But where did you get the flag?” persisted Miss Hauser.
“I brought it over with me,” Nancy confessed. “You see it’s the same
little flag that my great-grandfather Dale carried all through the
Civil War. Dad gave it to me just before I left. He said it had brought
Grand-dad through his campaigns safely, and he thought it might bring
me good luck.”
“I suppose there’s still a lot of sentiment in the south about that old
flag,” said Miss Hauser.
“Yes, there is. It would be hard for anyone else to understand how we
feel about the lost cause. Not that we would change things as they are
now. But we have a lot of respect and love for those old fellows who
fought and suffered so much for what they thought was right. There were
some marvelous military leaders among them, you know.”
“Indeed there were,” agreed Lieutenant Hauser. “Our men study the
military tactics of Lee, Jackson and the others.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Nancy, “but I’m glad to hear it.”
When they were about to separate, Miss Hauser said, “Oh, I almost
forgot—Major Reed has asked to see you when your work is finished.”
Nancy lifted her eyebrows slightly, wondering what was brewing.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll go now.”
She found Major Reed in his office. He had already discarded his coat
and tie and was drinking a coke.
“I’ll have one sent in for you,” he said, as he motioned Nancy to a
chair beside his desk. Chairs were luxuries and Nancy sat down
gratefully, for she suddenly felt very tired.
“A fresh supply just came in from the States,” Major Reed explained as
he opened her bottle.
“My, that tastes like the corner drugstore at home,” said Nancy.
He studied her a moment, then asked, “Homesick?”
“Oh, no. I’m having a wonderful time.”
His face relaxed. “I was afraid you were homesick.”
“Of course I’d like better than anything else to see Mom and Dad, and
have a peep at all the folks back home, but I’d want to be right here
the next day.”
“You wouldn’t mind going even deeper into it?” he asked.
She sent him a speculative glance. “Oh, Major Reed, are we going to get
out to the islands?”
“You guessed right.”
For a moment Nancy felt as uplifted as she had been on the night she
took her Florence Nightingale pledge so long ago. Major Reed was
opening the door to the goal for which she had worked so long.
“You’ve been such a good scout, Nancy, and put on such a splendid
program today this was the only reward I could offer you right now—to
tell you a little ahead of the others that we’re soon going out into
the Pacific. I fear the work here will seem like play compared with
what we’ll meet there.”
“I’m ready and eager to go,” she assured him. “When do we leave?”
“Shortly. But you are not to mention it until it’s officially
announced.”
The general announcement was made sooner than Nancy dared hope—three
evenings later. They had to be ready to leave the following morning.
The new nursing unit was expected in that night to take over.
Before Nancy started packing she went to find Bruce Williams and tell
him good-bye. He was genuinely distressed.
“I was afraid it was too much good luck, having you here even this
long,” he said.
“But you won’t be here much longer either,” she told him. She leaned
across the table in the recreation room where he had been reading.
“I’ll tell you something if you won’t mention it.”
“Oh, jimminy! Nancy, are you really going to marry me?”
“Don’t be silly!” she exclaimed. “We’ve got a war to win first. I was
going to tell you that you’re going to be sent home with the next bunch
that goes out from here.”
“Say, but that _is_ great!”
“See, if I hadn’t been sent out first, I’d be the one left behind.”
“Seems as if it can’t be true—going home at last. For so long I gave
up hopes of ever seeing the folks, as you call them down south.”
He caught her hand and looked pleadingly into her eyes. “But Nancy,
when you come home, too, will you promise to think seriously about what
I’ve been asking you every day?”
For the first time she took him seriously and said, “I surely will,
Bruce. And you won’t forget to pray that somehow Tommy will get back to
us?”
“You bet I won’t, Nancy.”
When she stood up to leave he started to rise also, but she pressed her
hand on his shoulder, holding him down firmly, for it was still
difficult for him to get up and down.
“Don’t stand,” she said. “I must run along.”
Suddenly she bent and kissed him lightly on the forehead, then hurried
away before he could come after her, making their parting harder. Nancy
found that the most trying aspect of her work was making friends, then
having to leave them behind.
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