The Quiet Courage to Start Again - a Blog Tour and Book Excerpt for "Annie's Day"

BOOK EXCERPT

Chapter 2 - Australia, 1939 - 1941

General Nursing and Obstetrics qualifications clutched firmly in gloved hand, Annie waited for Iris and Verna on Oxford Street, Paddington, so they could walk along to Victoria Barracks together. She smoothed down her waisted floral dress, then touched her hat. Not often intimidated, Annie felt a flutter of nerves. What had seemed an easy decision did not feel so comfortable now.

“G’day.”

Startled from her doubts, Annie turned at Verna’s voice.

“Are we up for this?” Her friend sounded buoyant.

“Of course,” Annie said, “well, I think so. How are you feeling, Iris?”

“Fine.” Iris paused, brown eyes down, red curls framing her face under a navy hat. “No, actually, not quite so fine.”

“Remember how we felt, when we met, on our first day at Prince Henry Hospital?” Verna grinned, her fine blonde hair escaping the neat bun at the nape of her neck. “The anticipation of what we don’t know is worse than the real thing.”

“You sound like a damn textbook,” Iris said, with a wan smile. “Slight difference,” she added, “we weren’t signing up to get shot.”

“We’ll be nowhere near the shooting, ducks,” Annie said, “nurses are way behind the lines.”

Verna nodded, blue eyes shiny with excitement. “She’s right, Iris. And our boys’ll need support.”

“Righto then,” Iris smoothed her gloves over her fingers and straightened her shoulders, “come on, anymore dilly-dallying and I might bottle out.”

Reaching Queen Victoria Gate, they paused then, following directions given by the guard, linked arms and strode through. The imposing Regency style barracks sent a quiver down Annie’s back and made her glad they had agreed to sign on together.

The imperative to defend Australia had filtered through to even the remotest cattle stations, and men, some in uniform, some in civvies, milled around the quadrangle. A few catcalls followed the women.

“They wouldn’t dare do that if we were already in uniform,” Verna said with a giggle.

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” Annie relaxed. No chance to change her mind now. She looked around the room lined with desks as they waited to be called forward, and wondered if Ernest had suffered the same qualms when he’d signed on at the Armidale Show Ground. She thought about Joe and couldn’t imagine him in the hurly-burly of basic training.

When called, the women moved forward as one. Annie answered the brusque questions first.

“Name? Address—permanent? Education? Sign here.” A pen was thrust into her hand.

Annie, her voice low, read aloud, “I, Annie May Cutler swear that I will well and truly serve our Sovereign Lord, the King, in the Military Forces of the Commonwealth of Australia until the cessation of the present time of war ...” Apprehension in her voice, she looked at Verna and Iris. “Hell’s bells!” Annie’s curse drew a glare from the sergeant standing nearby. She scribbled her signature and said, “Well, that’s it then.”

They watched the attesting officer scribble his signature below hers. Verna signed without a murmur, but Iris, her face pale, hesitated.

“It’s alright, ducks,” Verna touched Iris’s hand. “You don’t have to.”

“She’s right,” Annie chimed in. “You’ve got to be sure.”

They waited, then watched Iris, her eyes watery, as the pen hovered over the form before she scratched her name.

“Thank you, ladies.” The sergeant took the pen, turned and called, “Next.”

Standing back in the quadrangle, still steadily filling with men and a scattering of women, they looked at each other as trepidation changed to composure.

“We’re in!” Verna said with a grin.

Iris, now less subdued, nodded. “That was easy.”

“It has a ring, doesn’t it?” Annie asked, looking down at the paper in her hand. “The Australian Army Nursing Service.”

“I suppose they just had to change the wording on the forms from reservist to serving.” Verna stopped at the gates and looked back. “Do you think everyone signing on here will go to Cowra for training?”

“Dunno.” Annie paused. “Just glad we’ll be together.”

Iris said, “You know, I was alright until the next of kin bit.”

Annie giggled, “Listen to this bit, ‘I will endeavour to up uphold the highest traditions of Womanhood and of the Professions of which I am Part.’”

“It’s not funny, Annie,” Iris said.

“I know. But I suppose we’re going to have to laugh at things.” Annie slung her arms around Verna and Iris as they walked back along Oxford Street, and sang, “Well, girls, we’re in the army now, tra la!”

“Wonder where we’ll be sent.” Iris clutched Annie’s hand still around her shoulder, and

 squeezed. “God, I hope we can all stay together.”

“Well,” Verna said, ever practical, “we signed on together, we’re training together, so we’ll probably be posted together.”

“I hope so,” Iris said, “I’m not as strong as you two.”

Annie hugged her close. “Rubbish, Iris.”

“You’re as tough as the boots we’ll have to wear!” Verna added.

“First,” Annie said, taking off her hat, “we have to learn how to march in those boots.”

“And follow orders,” Iris reminded Annie with a chortle.

“I’ve been doing that since we started nursing.”

“Not always!” Verna grinned. “Come on, we deserve a cup of tea. My shout!”