The Forgotten Pearl (13 page)

12

Singapore

14 February 1942

Poppy was in bed, tossing and turning, the mosquito net draped around her stopping the cooling breeze blowing through the louvres. She could hear the muffled sound of her parents talking in the sitting room. She felt lonely.

Finally, she decided to get up and fetch a glass of water, slipping her feet into the cotton slippers by her bed. She tiptoed out into the hall. Something in her mother's tone alerted her that her parents were discussing serious issues. On impulse, Poppy crept down the hall towards the front of the house. She paused in the hallway near the open doorway.

‘The Japanese advance has been incredible,' Mark said grimly. ‘The Allies have seriously underestimated their ability as fighters, and that every Japanese soldier is prepared to commit suicide missions for the glory of their
country. Their push south to take over the oilfields has been relentless. In only five weeks they have captured a huge part of the Pacific. '

‘But do you think they plan to invade Australia?' asked Cecilia.

‘I don't know,' Mark confessed. ‘From a strategic perspective, Australia provides the Allies with the ideal base to attack the Japanese in the Pacific. In just a few weeks, Darwin has really become the front-line of defence. So the Japanese will either want to invade and control Australia, or completely cut it off from the United States.'

‘So there is a good chance the Japanese will attack,' Cecilia surmised.

‘Australia is a vast continent,' Mark replied. ‘It would take a massive Japanese army to invade and hold the country.'

‘The nurses were talking today about carrying cyanide pills with them in case the Japanese invade . . .' Cecilia said quietly. ‘They have been told it would be better to take poison than to be captured by the enemy . . .'

There was the sound of a muffled sob.

Poppy had to strain to hear Mark's response. ‘The rumours of Japanese atrocities have been horrific. Wounded men in hospitals, women, nurses – even children – have been massacred. If they invade Australia, we can expect nothing else.'

Poppy could hear Cecilia collapse on the couch. ‘But we have defences, guns, submarines, warships . . .' Cecilia said hopefully.

‘From everything I've heard, our defences in Darwin are woeful,' Mark said. ‘We don't have enough fighter
aircraft or guns – or even ammunition. One of the gunners told me that most of their ammunition is left over from the last war twenty years ago!'

Cecilia began to cry.

‘What do we do?' Mark asked, his voice gaining in urgency. ‘We have a choice: we either stay and fight for our homes and our families, or we run and let the Japanese have them. We have no choice. We have to fight. But if things get really bad, you and Poppy could disappear into the bush. You could take the car, or Angel and the buggy, and just head south-west as far as you can go.'

‘What if we get no warning? What if they just overrun us like they have everywhere else?'

‘If worst comes to the worst, Cecilia . . . I have my old rifle. I will protect you all with my life.'

Poppy imagined her parents hugging and whispering as their voices dropped to a murmur. She felt totally despondent. She forgot all about her thirst, or anything else. She just crawled into bed and lay there, staring through the dark towards the ceiling. Hours seemed to pass until she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

Poppy was awoken suddenly by a scream – a scream of indescribable terror. A scream of grief.

She lay still for a moment, trying to get her bearings, before hearing a muffled sound. Her heart pounded and she froze. The room felt very empty without Bryony in the bed opposite.

She slipped from beneath her sheet, through the netting
and padded to her parents' room. She nearly bumped into her mother, who was pacing up and down the hallway, ghostly in her pale nightgown.

‘Oh, Poppy, did I wake you?' Cecilia's voice sounded thick.

‘Mama,' Poppy whispered, ‘are you all right? I thought I heard a scream?'

Cecilia hugged Poppy tightly. ‘Sorry, darling. I had a nightmare. I thought something had happened to . . . It was just a nightmare. It means nothing. I'm sure Edward is fine . . .'

Cecilia shuddered, her voice constricting with unshed tears.

Mark came in with a glass of water for Cecilia. ‘It's all right, Poppy. Go back to bed. Everything is all right.'

Poppy went back to bed, but she couldn't go back to sleep. She kept remembering the sound of her mother's scream. She could feel her own terror bubbling just below the surface, threatening to erupt.

‘Cecilia?' Mark called from the kitchen doorway. Cecilia stood at the bench pouring out tea, ready for work in her white nurse's uniform, black hair tucked beneath a starched veil. She looked pale, except for around her puffy eyes, dark from lack of sleep. Poppy was sitting at the kitchen table eating a piece of toast, while Daisy washed up in the sink.

‘You'd better sit down,' Mark suggested, taking Cecilia by the elbow.

Cecilia began to tremble. ‘Edward?'

‘Singapore has fallen,' he said gently. ‘General Percival surrendered to the Japanese last night. One hundred thousand Allied troops have been taken as prisoners-of-war, including fifteen thousand Australians.'

‘No . . . No,' Cecilia stammered, bunching her fists together and grinding them into her eyes. ‘My boy. My Edward!' she cried, rocking back and forth.

Mark stood behind Cecilia, rubbing her shoulders, trying to provide some comfort.

‘They've managed to evacuate the nurses, civilians and some of the wounded soldiers,' he continued. ‘I was warned that we'll soon be inundated with the wounded. Thank goodness we're now settled in the new hospital.'

Cecilia nodded shakily, pulling herself together.

‘But they said Singapore was impregnable,' insisted Poppy, her jaw clenched tightly. ‘They said Singapore would never fall!'

‘They were wrong,' replied Mark grimly. ‘The Japanese forces seem unbeatable. Who could have imagined that they would sweep through most of Asia in just a few short weeks?'

Mark paused.

Poppy shuddered with horror, her thoughts churning.
They said Singapore would never fall and they were wrong . . . They said Singapore would protect Australia . . . If the Japanese have invaded most of Asia in a few short weeks, how long before they target us? How long before they invade Darwin?

‘The Administrator is urging the last of the women and children to leave Darwin,' Mark continued, as though
reading her thoughts. ‘The
Koolinda
left yesterday with more evacuees, and he wants the remainder to be flown out by plane over the next few days, leaving just the single nurses at the hospitals. There has been some talk that the Allies could have evacuated more wounded soldiers from Singapore if there hadn't been so many civilians who had refused to leave earlier because they thought they were safe. I think the time has come for you both to be evacuated down south with Daisy and Charlie. It's not safe for you to be here anymore.'

Cecilia looked around, bereft, taking in the details of her home. ‘You're right – I'd never forgive myself if something happened to Poppy, or Daisy, or Charlie. We'll go to Sydney so we can be close to Phoebe and Bryony.'

Poppy buried her head in Honey's silky fur, her eyes brimming with tears.

Mark glanced at Daisy, still standing beside the sink. ‘Daisy, do you and Charlie want to go and stay in Sydney with Mrs Trehearne?' he asked. ‘Or would you prefer to go back to your family at Never-Never Downs? Or you could go to Adelaide and look for work there?'

Daisy wiped her wet hands on a tea towel. She glanced through to her own room, where Charlie was playing on the floor with some mixing bowls, then nodded.

‘Charlie and I will go to Sydney, too,' decided Daisy. ‘Missus Trehearne needs me, and someone has to keep Miss Poppy out of trouble.'

‘Thanks, Daisy,' Cecilia said. ‘You are a gem.'

Cecilia picked up a sheet of paper and a pen from the dresser and jotted down a couple of notes.

‘I'd just like a couple of days to get organised,' she suggested. ‘We can't take much, so I'd like to pack away some of my silver and china and bury it in the garden. Plus, I'm needed at the hospital today. We'll need to get organised if there's going to be a big influx of wounded men.'

‘I'll book seats on a plane for you all as soon as we can,' Mark promised. ‘You'll probably fly to Adelaide, then catch a train to Sydney. We'll also need to get permission to evacuate Daisy and Charlie.'

Cecilia smiled at Poppy reassuringly. ‘We'll be okay. Edward's not dead – I'd know if he was dead. He's hurt, but he's not dead.'

‘I pray you're right, Cecilia,' Mark said. ‘I pray you're right.'

Poppy glanced at her mother, sitting composed, her face weary but set with determination.

Poppy remembered her mother's scream in the night.
Did Mum somehow know? Did she sense something terrible happening to Edward?

‘Well, we'd better get to work then,' announced Cecilia. ‘Come on, Poppy – we've got a lot to do.'

13

The Hospital

19 February 1942

Four days later, Poppy, Cecilia and Mark sat out on the verandah on the white cane chairs, having breakfast. The table was set with a big pot of tea, boiled eggs, a bowl of sliced paw-paw, marmalade and toast.

For the first time in days, the rain and grey clouds had been replaced by mostly blue sky and sunshine – a rare sight at this time of year. It was already hot and humid. Poppy sat trying to memorise her favourite view: the garden below with its lush greenery, hot-pink bougainvillea and fragrant frangipani, the vast turquoise-blue sea stretching north towards Asia.

The scene was tranquil and picturesque. Cecilia and Mark chatted about the plans for the evacuation. Mark had finally managed to book Cecilia, Poppy, Daisy and Charlie on a small plane flying to Adelaide the next
day. He would stay behind to continue his work at the hospital.

Poppy had carefully avoided asking what would happen to all her animals. She couldn't bear to know.

Just before nine o'clock, Mark and Cecilia left on their short walk to the hospital. Poppy stayed behind to help Daisy with some household chores – hanging out the washing to make the most of the sunshine, clearing the table, washing up the dishes and feeding the chickens. At 9.45 she followed her parents to the hospital.

Sister Minnie Scott, a friend of Cecilia's, was standing out front, enjoying the change in weather and chatting to one of the doctors. Her white uniform was already wilting in the heat.

‘Hello, Poppy,' Sister Scott called out. ‘I heard you and your mum are flying south tomorrow?'

‘Yes,' Poppy replied. ‘Has it been a busy morning?'

‘No, love,' Sister Scott said with a smile. ‘We have an appendix operation booked for ten o'clock, otherwise it's been as quiet as the grave.'

Poppy felt a shiver of apprehension run up her spine. ‘Well, I'll just head inside and start making some beds,' she replied, nodding to the doctor.

At two minutes to ten, Poppy was propping the pillows up behind a young sailor and chatting to him. Cecilia had always told her that the best medicine for wounded servicemen was a cheery smile on a pretty face, and some friendly chatter.

‘There – is that better, sir?' she asked, straightening his sheets.

‘Bless you, love.'

Poppy heard a distant thunderclap, followed by the sound of an explosion. The eerie sound of the air-raid siren blared out over Darwin.

‘It's a bombing raid!' yelled Sister Scott, running past her. ‘It's the Japanese!'

Poppy froze, unsure what to do. She could hear yelling and shouting from all parts of the hospital, and then the sound of explosions coming closer. Her mouth was dry with fear, her stomach in knots.

‘Poppy! Poppy, where are you?' her mother yelled from the corridor.

‘Mum, I'm here!' Poppy replied, running out of the ward breathless with relief to hear that familiar voice.

‘Poppy, I want you to stay with me at all times, understand? We need to get these men evacuated down to the beach if they can walk. If they can't walk, we need to get them under their beds with mattresses on top for protection.'

Poppy nodded. Cecilia ran into the ward where Poppy had been working. Summoning up courage, she smiled brightly at the patients. ‘Okay, boys, here's what we're going to do . . .'

If the men could walk themselves, they were directed to head to the beach and the cliffs of Kahlin Bay, about one hundred metres away. One of the patients, an officer who had just been evacuated from Koepang in Timor and survived numerous Japanese air raids there, was shouting orders. ‘Lads, hide in the bushes along the shore. Get under cover. Don't stand out in the open on the beach or the Japs will strafe you. Go on, get out of here!'

Nurses ran hither and thither, helping patients out of bed.

Cecilia and Poppy visited each bed in turn. The patients who couldn't walk lay there helpless, faces drawn tight with fear. With the help of a male orderly, Cecilia and Poppy lifted them, one by one, out of bed and carefully placed them on the floor under the bed. Poppy then dragged mattresses off the surrounding empty beds to provide some protection.

Suddenly, a bomb hit the hospital complex, making the walls rock. Windows shattered, showering the ward with shards of dagger-sharp glass. Clouds of dust and plaster wafted through the air. The sound was deafening.

Cecilia shoved Poppy under the nearest bed. Another explosion rocked the hospital. Enormous rocks fell through the roof, crashing into the ward and bouncing off the beds. The aftershock knocked Cecilia off her feet, sending her hurtling across the ward. She crashed into the wall and crumpled to the floor, where she lay motionless.

‘Mama,' screamed Poppy, ‘are you all right?'

There was no answer. Poppy felt her heart stop, a sob welling up in her throat.
Could she be dead? Could my beautiful mother be dead? Please, God, don't let her die.

Poppy scrabbled across the floor on all fours, heedless of the falling masonry and debris, to her mother's inert body.

‘Mama?' Poppy whispered, gently touching her mother's shoulder.

Cecilia moaned and shuddered, eyelids fluttering. Poppy flung her arms around her mother protectively and kissed her cheek.‘Thank God, you're all right!'

Cecilia rubbed her head and winced, glancing around. ‘Oh, the bombs. Poppy, get back under the bed.'

‘Not without you,' Poppy replied. They scuttled back across the rubble-strewn floor to the makeshift shelter under the bed.

Cecilia and Poppy huddled together until the dust cleared. Slowly, painfully, they crawled out, checking all the patients. No one seemed to be hurt beneath their mattress protection.

Cecilia limped out, followed by Poppy, and headed next door to another ward. Here, they set to work getting as many patients out of the building as possible. Strangely, Poppy no longer felt afraid – she was too busy lifting, pulling, coaxing and running.

There were two patients, barely mobile, who were trying to help each other shuffle outside. A quick glance around the ward showed that all the patients in this room had either been evacuated or moved under the beds.

‘Come on, lads,' said Cecilia with a smile. ‘Would you like a hand?'

Cecilia slipped her arm under the soldier's elbow, taking his weight.

‘Thanks, Sister,' he replied. ‘I think we might be better off outside, don't you?'

Poppy ran to his companion's side and offered her arm, which was already aching from lifting the heavy men. Her legs were trembling as well, but she dug deep inside for strength.

‘I don't know about that, sir,' replied Poppy, smiling, remembering her mother's advice. ‘They sound really close.'

‘Strike me fat! Look at you, missy – not much more'n a tot. What're you doing here in a war zone?'

‘Same as you, sir – dodging Japanese bombs,' Poppy joked weakly.

They hobbled outside and stopped. To the west, they had a perfect view of Darwin Harbour. Poppy could see wave after wave of planes darkening the sky overhead, dropping whistling silver bombs. There seemed to be nearly two hundred planes, at a guess.

The scene in the harbour was chaos. Dozens of ships were crowded together, attempting to flee. Black smoke. Roaring flames. Thundering explosions. Men jumped from the shattered wharf into the oil-slicked water. Ships were being dive-bombed, the explosions splitting them in half. The very water of the harbour was on fire.

Halfway along the path, there was another explosion close to the hospital building. Poppy, Cecilia and the two patients were thrown to the ground. Debris and shrapnel hurtled through the air, as dangerous as the bomb itself. Poppy checked that all her limbs were intact, then scrambled to her feet, helping up the wounded patients. She wiped her face which was slick with sweat, and her palm came away coated in crimson.

The Japanese bomber wheeled around, as though to check the damage he'd caused. The pilot spied the group of four standing on the lawn and headed back straight towards them.

‘Run!' Cecilia yelled.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

Poppy looked up. She could see the emblem of the rising sun clearly painted on the underside of the wings.
She could even see the Japanese pilot – impossibly young – looking at her. He smiled and waved, then brought his plane into a low swoop, hurtling towards them.

Cecilia yanked Poppy by the hand, dragging her forward. Fear and adrenaline drove the two patients and together the four raced across the lawns, stumbling down the steep path to the base of the cliffs. The bomber opened fire again with his machine-gun, and they were chased by a hail of bullets until they took cover in the thick scrub at the base of the cliff. Dozens of patients were already huddled there in various states of undress, with crutches, bandages and even intravenous drips.

The bomber wheeled away and strafed the hospital building with machine-gun fire.

Cecilia helped the two patients as they collapsed down in the sand, then realised Poppy was bleeding profusely. She examined Poppy frantically. In addition to the cut on her forehead, Poppy had a deep, jagged laceration down her left arm, caused by flying shrapnel.

Cecilia borrowed a medical bag from one of the doctors, which was packed with emergency first-aid supplies.

‘Sorry, darling,' Cecilia apologised, ‘this is going to hurt.'

Poppy bit her lip to stop from screaming out loud as Cecilia poured alcohol over the open wound to cleanse it. She carefully dabbed at Poppy's wounds, then bandaged her arm with gauze and an elastic bandage.

When she was finished, Cecilia hugged her daughter to her chest. ‘Darling girl,' she whispered, her voice shaking. ‘I know it must hurt, but it's just a flesh wound. Thank God you're all right. Have you seen Daddy?'

Poppy shook her head, her mind suppressing thoughts of bombs, falling rocks, shattered glass and machine-gun bullets. Cecilia and Poppy took shelter with the other doctors and nurses among the rocks and held each other in a tight embrace.

At last, the sound of bombs ceased and the drone of aeroplane engines faded.

The all-clear siren sounded from the township. Patients, doctors and nurses crawled out of hiding onto the beach, stretching and chattering, grateful to be alive. Poppy checked her watch. It was nearly eleven; the morning raid had lasted just under an hour. It had seemed like a lifetime. She hurt all over, especially her bandaged arm, but struggled stiffly to her feet.

‘Don't go too far,' suggested the patient who had been evacuated from Koepang. ‘My guess is that they'll be back for another attack before too long. You might want to change out of those uniforms, too. You sisters are a beacon that the Japanese could spy a mile away. The white gives them something to aim at!'

Poppy shuddered, glancing at her mother's uniform, which had been crisp and pristine earlier this morning. It was now crushed, blood-stained and smudged with dirt.

‘You're probably right,' Cecilia nodded in agreement, ‘but the nurses can't stay here in hiding – we'll have work to do. There'll be lots of injured people.'

Cecilia kissed the top of Poppy's head. ‘All right, sweetie,' she continued, ‘you stay here under the cliffs with the patients in case there's another attack. I'm going back to help. You can cheer up the patients and tell them some
stories. Whatever you do, stay under cover. You saw what they'll do if they see you in the open.'

Poppy nodded, her hands shaking.

‘Look after my daughter now, lads, won't you?' Cecilia asked the gathered men. There were a number of grunts and calls in the affirmative. Cecilia headed up the steep cliff path to the hospital above. Poppy waited a few minutes, took a deep breath and followed – she couldn't bear to wait under the bushes while her parents were possibly in danger.

‘Missy, your ma wants you to stay here,' called one of the patients.

Poppy glanced back and smiled. ‘They need as much help as they can get up there.'

‘God bless you.'