Beside a Burning Sea (2 page)

DAY ONE

Warm winds bear old scents.
I ask why I have fallen
And how I may rise.

Benevolence

SEPTEMBER 23, 1942
SOLOMON ISLANDS

Ten minutes before a torpedo sliced through the sea and slammed into steel, most everything was normal aboard the U.S. hospital ship
Benevolence
.

Parting the temperate waves of the South Pacific at a speed of twelve knots,
Benevolence
more closely resembled a transatlantic passenger liner than the handiwork of the U.S. Navy. The five-story vessel spanned four hundred feet and boasted engines that generated four thousand horsepower. The ship was coated in white paint, with giant red crosses dominating its sides and smokestack. From a distance,
Benevolence
looked far more majestic than a massive chunk of floating steel had any right to. The ship radiated comfort and security and solace.

Below deck, reality was far different.
Benevolence
held nearly five hundred hospital beds, which were filled with soldiers who suffered everything from chest wounds to lost appendages to malaria and psychiatric maladies. Attending to these patients were several dozen navy doctors and nurses. Though few of these healers had been on the front lines, during the course of the war most had been shot at by snipers, lifted off the ground by bomb blasts, and contracted a tropical illness. Moreover, the mental toll of trying to cure the often incurable had pushed many of the staff to and beyond the breaking point.

Benevolence
was designed to linger on the outskirts of battle, to swiftly enter burning waters, and to provide aid to the men who’d been maimed by bombs and bullets. International law mandated that hospital ships save both friend and foe, and
Benevolence
was filled with torn American and Japanese soldiers. The ship stank of unwashed bodies and disinfectants and bleach. Much worse, depending on one’s location, the stench of burnt flesh could be as oppressive as the humid air that kept everything in an eternal state of dampness. Though the drone of
Benevolence
’s engines drowned out the moans of the dying, the screams of the burn patients often pierced the air.

Ten minutes before his ship was split in two, Captain Joshua Collins absently studied the chart before him, wondering how his wife, Isabelle, was faring with the fresh batch of wounded. He knew that she’d be darting from soldier to soldier, creating order and sanity where no such havens should have existed. During this frenzied dance she’d act as a mother or lover or sister to the men who suffered and died before her. As far as he was concerned, she was able to almost magically transform into whoever these suffering men so desperately needed her to be.

Though Joshua and Isabelle had been together for almost a decade, and though he recognized that she wasn’t perfect, he still marveled at her. He hoped that the men she saved understood the extraordinary measures she took to save them—for to do so she’d left a trail of herself from North Africa to Midway. This trail was filled with her laughter and youth, her faith and strength. Painfully aware of her sacrifices, Joshua often prayed that she wouldn’t be an empty shell by the time the war ended. He’d seen too many such shells, and the fear of her becoming one was a burden that weighed heavily upon him. Unfortunately, despite this fear and his consequent longing to mend her as she mended others, he had his own demons, and such monsters rarely set him free.

Still absently gazing at the chart, Joshua reflected on what he worried was a growing chasm between Isabelle and him. For as much as he admired and loved her, over the past few months he hadn’t felt as compelled to spend time at her side. As he saw it, the two of them inhabited different realms. After all, his complete focus centered on the safe and effective operation of
Benevolence
, and her duty was to ensure the best possible medical care for her patients. Neither task left much room for anything else. And the less time they spent together, the less inclined they were to seek each other out. It was as if, having left the overwhelming demands of the helm or the patients, neither spouse had energy for the other. And so they drifted apart, like kites released into a storm.

Saddened by the recent unraveling of his marriage, Joshua turned from the chart and, looking through a window, studied the calm waters surrounding
Benevolence
. The nearby sea had already witnessed enormous conflicts between American and Japanese warships, and Joshua knew that more such battles were coming. The Japanese, as he’d been briefed many times, needed possession of the nearby islands to protect their recent conquests, and the allied forces were desperate to stop further Japanese expansion.
Benevolence
had been sent to these waters because of the looming battles that so often stole his sleep.

Downwind from where Joshua stood and stared, a young officer hid in the shadows of the stern. Eyeing a distant island—which was bathed in amber by the dropping sun—he flicked a cigarette into the sea and checked his wristwatch. Knowing that a plane would arrive soon and release its torpedo, he stayed hidden. Though unafraid of bullets and soldiers, he didn’t like the thought of plunging thirty feet into the water below, of being sucked deeply under that water, of having to swim a half mile to an empty island. He consoled himself with the knowledge that if he lived, he’d spend the rest of his life enjoying the vast wealth that a series of betrayals had brought him. He’d have his fill of women and possessions and power, and, best of all, he would never have to obey orders again.

The officer cared nothing for those he had killed or for those aboard
Benevolence
—the men and women whom he’d soon send to death. Occasionally, ruined faces haunted his dreams, but such torments weren’t tangible enough to change his actions. People died in war, he reasoned, and if they died at his hand, so be it. He had ample cause to hate both Americans and Japanese, and over the past nine months, he’d happily killed people on each side of the conflict. Killing had become his greatest joy.

Though his past deeds had led to the deaths of many, tonight his betrayal would destroy an entire ship. He eagerly awaited watching
Benevolence
burn, for he despised those who operated the vessel, and the thought of its commanding officers being forever silenced made him clench his fists with anticipation. Of course, he’d miss watching the nurses—miss the sights and scents and fantasies that they brought into his world. But the money and influence that his treachery would produce far outweighed anything that the opposite sex could offer.

He’d been told there would be no survivors, and worried for his own safety, he fidgeted and quietly swore. He increasingly felt as if he were entombed within his own casket. Continuing to curse, he looked skyward, wishing that the bomber would come. He knew it would, for the belly of
Benevolence
had been secretly filled with aviation fuel, antiaircraft guns, and stockpiles of ammunition. Once he’d discovered this development and alerted the Japanese to its presence, they couldn’t have been more intent on sinking the ship.

As far as he knew, only one other person aboard
Benevolence
was aware of this cargo. Like everyone else, the navy intelligence officer would perish in a few minutes. He’d die with the doctors, the nurses, the sailors, the patients. They’d die in flames or in the sea, and their deaths would not be short of suffering.

When the officer heard the distant drone of an aircraft engine, he removed a life jacket from beneath a bench and quickly secured it about his torso. He then pulled a wooden box into the retreating light. The waterproof box contained a radio, a pistol, rations, cigarettes, and everything else he’d need to survive for several weeks on the island. With a grunt, he heaved it overboard. An ever-increasing hum filled his ears, and knowing that the plane would soon drop its torpedo, he inhaled deeply and vaulted over the railing. Just before he hit the water, his vision passed through an open hatch and he glimpsed a pair of nurses bent over a patient. Then the sea rose up to strike him, and his world went black.

The nurses heard the splash and paused in their work. One of them—whose eyes mirrored a clear sky and whose teak-colored hair had been cut short by her own hand—turned from the three-day-old wound before her, glancing at the hatch. “Did you hear that?” she asked her older sister, Isabelle.

“The splash?”

“It sounded louder than a wave.”

“So?”

“I wonder what it could have been. Maybe a jumping dolphin?”

“You wonder about a lot of things, Annie.”

“Well, I . . . I think it’s good to ask questions,” the younger sibling replied, returning to the wound. “It keeps everything fresh.”

The Japanese soldier watched Annie study the stitches in his thigh. Though most of the Japanese patients were uncomfortable in her presence, this soldier took interest in her work. In fact, the sight of her diminutive frame and soft, almost girlish face intrigued him greatly. To him, her features and movements resembled those of a young deer—a gentle forest creature that was more intent on its immediate surroundings than the world around it. Her wide eyes, unblemished skin, and full lips seemed ill suited for the harsh, artificial light of the cramped room.

Annie started to tenderly clean the soldier’s wound, surprised that a passing bullet could tear out so much flesh. This man may always limp, she thought, redressing the wound. Of course, a limp was a much better outcome than could be expected for most of the men she saw.

“When is Joshua off duty?” Annie asked, finishing up with her patient. She thought the foreigner might have nodded in appreciation but wasn’t sure, as
Benevolence
incessantly swayed.

“Is he ever off duty?” Isabelle replied, methodically scanning a series of charts before her.

“I’d say that’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“You would?”

“How many patients, Izzy, have you seen today? Forty? Fifty?”

“Oh, not that many. I should have seen more.”

“Really? Did you eat lunch?”

“No, but I—”

“Will you eat dinner? Or faint like you did last week?”

“Enough,” Isabelle replied. “You’re beginning to sound an awful lot like Mother.”

Annie paused from tidying the patient’s bedding. “Don’t say that,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Well, it’s true.”

“Well, maybe she’s right.”

The patient heard the noise first. Annie saw him cock his head toward the hatch. He squinted, as if improved eyesight could somehow help his ears. Annie soon recognized the hum as the distant drone of an airplane. She was used to such noises and didn’t think anything of it. “You never answered my question,” she said.

“About what?”

“About Joshua.”

“I don’t know when he’s off duty,” Isabelle replied, making rapid notations on the charts. “For all we see each other, we might as well be on different continents.”

“I’m not sure about that. At least you know where to find him.”

Isabelle started to respond, but stopped herself and nodded. She understood that Annie was thinking of her fiancé—who fought Germans somewhere in Europe—and she put her hand on Annie’s slender shoulder. “He’ll make it through this,” she said. “We all will.”

Annie shifted on her aching feet, wondering where Ted was, why she didn’t miss him more, why she hadn’t called his name when the delirium of malaria had recently gripped her. Shouldn’t she be writing him love letters and gazing longingly at his photo each night? Weren’t such things what lovers did? What was wrong with her?

As the silence between the sisters lingered, the drone of the airplane strengthened. It soon grew from the hum of a motorboat to a metallic, violent roar that assaulted their ears. Annie was about to speak again when the Japanese soldier abruptly sat up, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Nakajima . . . Nakajima bomber,” he said, his English surprising both nurses.

Isabelle was the first to comprehend his words. “It’s . . . a Japanese bomber?”

The plane must have passed very low over the ship, for the deafening wail of its engine seemed to penetrate their skulls. For a heartbeat or two, the wail diminished. Then an incomprehensibly loud and powerful explosion knocked Annie and Isabelle off their feet. Both nurses were hurled so high that they struck the ceiling. Along with charts and instruments and patients, Annie and Isabelle fell to the floor. Landing awkwardly on bedding and steel, they were too stunned to cry out. They simply grunted with the impact and tried to draw breath into their throbbing lungs. Somehow time froze and rushed forward all at once.

Annie thought she saw Izzy’s mouth move, but the younger sister couldn’t hear anything. Her ears hummed as if they housed scores of mosquitoes. Her mind didn’t work properly. She felt as if she’d drunk a bottle of wine, and found it impossible to comprehend what had happened. The world spun and tilted and swayed. It groaned and boomed. The lights had gone out. Water covered the floor. Where was she? Why did fires rage and why were so many bodies unmoving about her?

Annie spat through her bloodied lips as Isabelle reached for her hand. The strength of Isabelle’s grip slowly shook such questions from her mind. She smelled smoke, heard distant screams, and saw that the room was slanting and filling with water. She still didn’t fully understand the scene before her, but Isabelle seemed unhurt, and Annie could make enough sense of the situation to take solace in that fact. She started to hug her sister, but Isabelle turned and crawled toward the bodies around them. Annie did likewise, instinctively checking pulses as she had ten thousand times before. She felt the beat of several hearts, but seeing the gaping wounds before her, knew these hearts would soon quiet.

Suddenly, the Japanese soldier with the leg wound gripped her arm and tried to pull her to her feet. Failing to do that, he shouted something and dragged her toward the hatch. Annie screamed—certain he was bent on harming her. However, the soldier let go of her arm and pointed at her waist. Though the water was almost to her stomach, Annie’s mind still reeled and she didn’t realize that
Benevolence
was sinking. She desperately pushed her patient away and started to attend to the injured again, wading to where Isabelle tried to save a dying doctor.