Chapter 9
chapter nine of grace harlowe with the marines at chateau teary by jesse graham flower this librivox recording is in the public domain chapter nine the pluck that won she's down now we'll be in for it cried the second orderly i hope she isn't killed nuth nothing quite so bad as that orderly gasped grace getting unsteadily to her feet but limping a little in spite of herself as she essayed a step or two it was with difficulty that she repressed a groan for every step seemed to give her a knife-stab through her lower right limb "'Are you hit?' demanded one of the orderlies anxiously. "'I think I must have fallen and strained my ankle,' replied Grace evasively,
though she knew very well that she had been smacked and that a bullet had struck the calf of her leg. "'Please say nothing about it to the General. Do you promise?' They did so willingly, not caring to have to listen to the General's expressed opinion of them should he learn that Grace Harlow had been hurt while in their care. It took courage, morale and physical pluck to walk steadily over to the place where the
general was sitting propped up, studying a map with the aid of a candle that was masked with a helmet. General, how are you feeling? begged Grace solicitously. General Bridges poured out the candle and extended his hand. Fit as a prize fighter about to enter the ring, little friend, the marines are winning.
Of course they are. You did not look for them to lose, did you? Of course not, of course not, growled the general. You helped them win, and I'll say so on my report. Grace urged him to do nothing of the kind, but to tell her what stage the battle was in. Hand-to-hand fighting, grenade-throwing, bayonetting, musty work but the fritzes are getting an awful walloping and all in the dark. Can you imagine the scene?
I think I can, replied Grace with her own experience of that night in mind. And the casualties, General? Heavy. Too bad, but it's war. An orderly running up took the attention of the general from Grace who, embracing the opportunity, limped off and finding her ambulance got in and examined her wound with the aid of her own flash lamp
The bullet she found had only scratched the fleshy part of the calf of her right leg It was not at all a serious wound but one that had bled and was bleeding too freely to suit her Grace bound up the wound, giving herself first aid treatment, which she thought would be sufficient to carry her through the night,
or at least until she was relieved from duty. Having completed her first aid treatment, Grace got down and limped back to the general, informing him that she was going back to her ambulance. You got out in time, she said laughingly,
referring to General Bridges' former observation post. The place was all blown down, with the exception of the eastern wall, and that is going to fall in, even if it hasn't done so already. So I heard. Came near being out of luck, didn't you? Nearly. May I take you into the hospital now, General? she asked immurely.
You may not. Grace informed him that she was going to get a load of wounded and that she would see him on each trip and be ready to take him in. in case he decided to go. She urged him not to tax his strength too far, but to go as soon as it was possible for him to get away.
With that, Grace hobbled to her car, got in, and drove to the dressing station, reporting to the surgeon in charge and asking if there were any cases for her. Only a few hundred, was the brief answer.
An orderly checked off a load for her, directed the stretcher bearers to load them and a few moments later Grace was on her way to the field hospital with several suffering men. Delivering her load Grace turned about and raced back to the front. This time she did not wait to see the general but sent word to him that she was there and to let her know when he wanted her. Load after load went out from under the brow of
that famous sector that night, stretcher bearers were staggering out of that seething forest of death, many of them becoming stretcher cases themselves, some of them beyond the need of stretchers, for the Hun is no respecter of wounded men or stretcher bearers or ambulances or hospitals. Where he sees life he tries to blot it out and many a life was blotted out that night in and about Bellowwood. Shortly after one o'clock in the morning, upon returning to the front,
exhausted from work and nervous strain, Grace was informed that she was to take General Bridges into evacuation hospital number two on a special trip, so she turned around and drove over to the OP. The general was protesting, but he had been ordered from the field by his superior officer at headquarters. Colonel Bates was to succeed him in command for the rest of the night. At that time runners had reported that the first objective in the woods had been taken
and that reinforcements were needed to consolidate the position. These were supplied while Grace was waiting for her passenger. During that time Colonel Bates was consulting with the general. Then came a runner with the information that the marines could hold on for the rest of the night. Both sides were willing to stop, and especially the enemy, who had been soundly thrashed on what he considered impregnable ground.
But the cost of that victory had been high for the gallant marines. The general was lifted into the car, and the door closed and locked from the outside, as Grace did not propose to have her patient play any pranks on her or slip away from her. It was two o'clock in the morning when Grace backed her car up to number two and set her siren going. General Bridges in the car wounded, she reported to the stretcher bearers who came out in response to her signal.
Please see that he gets immediate attention for he is in bad shape. Grace had gone inside to ask the surgeons about the general when she plumped right in to Alfreda Briggs. Oh, Grace, I've been worrying about you, cried Alfreda. I knew you would be up there. I have heard all about it, about the battle. Isn't it terrible? Most everything is terrible in war. I presume you mean the battle in Bellowwood.
Yes, you... you have been there. Grace nodded and observed that Alfreda was eyeing her frowningly. Grace Harlow, you look all in, and I'm going to tell the Major that you ought to be put to bed. Look at me, loyal heart. You haven't been hit, have you? demanded Elfrida, as her friend limped painfully to a chair, grasping its back for support to herself and eased the pain in the wounded leg. "'I fell down running for cover,' answered the girl ambulance driver, evading the question but not telling an untruth. "'That was a brave thing to do, wasn't it, to run away?' she added laughingly,
though to laugh sent the pain shooting through her wounded leg afresh. "'I presume I am very tired too, but we are all tired and there are a few thousand men out there in Bellowwood who are more than tired, dear Elfrida, and others who will never be tired again. promise me that you will not mention to the major what you suggested and please dear find out how the general is elfrida promised with a nod of her head and asked if there were anything she could do for grace you might fetch me a glass of milk if it can be spared i shall sit here and rest but
do not be long for i must hurry back oh you dear a cold nose had been poked into grace harlow's hand and a shaggy head was lifted up to her. It was the Red Cross dog who had found her. That night on the battlefield. In the rush of events, Grace had lost track of him entirely. Grace put an arm about Reddy's neck and pressed her cheek against his shaggy head, while Reddy whined as if in grief over her having deserted him.
You dear old fellow, haven't you gone to work yet? No? Then I surely shall have to punish you. How would you like to go with me? Go with me, she actuated, whereupon Reddy began to dance about joyously, and would have barked had not Grace spoken sharply to him.
Alfreda returned while Grace and the dog were having a heart-to-heart talk as the girl expressed it. Alfreda brought the cheering news that the general's condition was not considered serious, but that it would be a long time before he would be able to return to active service. She also brought a small pitcher of milk and a cup. After Grace had drunk the milk she announced that she was feeling much better and would be on her way.
Surely you were not going back tonight. Why, it soon will be morning and you have been on duty all of 24 hours, begged Alfreda. Of course I am. Am I any better than those marines who have been on duty fully as long as I have been and are on duty yet? I think not.
Alfreda, listen. If anything should happen to me, now or later, that is, if I were to go west or be missing, I wish you to do something for me. In my trunk, in Nora's hut, is a letter addressed to Tom. See to it that it is sent, but not until you are certain. Understand?
Don't. Please don't. You frighten me. Promise? Yes.
Come, Reddy. You must be my buddy now and I will be your buddy and each of us will see that no harm comes to each other. Bye-bye, Alfreda. I'll probably not see you again tonight. Alfreda did not follow her friend out but stood stonily until Grace and the dog had disappeared in the darkness. A few moments later Grace was on her way to the front, feeling better, as she thought, but in reality getting worse, with Reddy sitting beside her. Soon after she had passed the field hospital, the pain in her leg became more intense and it hurt her terribly to use her foot on the brake lever, but Grace struggled through it, reached the front and taking on a load of wounded men, started for number two again.
The field hospital being safely passed, there were but a few miles to go when Grace began to realise that she was becoming alarmingly weak. She fought against it, she talked to Reddy who nosed her sympathetically, and she tried to croon one of Nora's bedtime lullabies, but her head ached and her limb throbbed like an aching tooth, so the girl fell silent and bent every faculty to her work. Oh, ready, I'm going, suddenly cried the little ambulance driver. Those poor boys. Help, get help ready. Grace, swaying dizzily, already practically unconscious, brought her wonderful willpower to bear on her task, and not only shut off the power, but jammed the footbrake down just as one wheel slipped into a shallow wayside ditch. Fortunately the car was stopped quickly enough to save it from going over
but Grace now in a dead faint drooped over the door of the car and hung there, head and hands down and limp and lifeless The red cross dog instantly began searching furiously for something that would identify her clawing and whining but all he was able to get was a handkerchief that protruded from the pocket of her blouse
and with this he leaped from the car and began loping up the Metz de Paris road with that steady, distance-killing pace so characteristic of his kind. End of chapter 9
