With Love, Wherever You Are by Dandi Daley Mackall

Author:Dandi Daley Mackall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Historical, FICTION / Christian / Historical
ISBN: 9781496421258
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2017-03-06T16:00:00+00:00

LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND

Helen didn’t know how much time had passed in the truck. Possibly only an hour or two, but they were the coldest hours she’d ever lived through. She could no longer feel her toes or fingers. She’d be of no use to patients if she lost her fingers to frostbite.

“We’re here!” Peggy shouted.

Helen tried to peer between the bodies of surrounding nurses. Wind sliced through her coat and felt like ripples of ice water poured over her skin. She caught sight of a mass of rubble piled higher than the truck. The only building that could have been a hospital was bombed out. Their truck motored past a long line of open flatbeds, each carrying dozens of casualties. Nurses stilled at the sight of so many wounded. Helen stared into each truck they passed as if she expected to see Frank. Or Eugene, or Bud, Ed, Clarence, or Wilbur, even though she knew Bud and Clarence were in the Pacific.

Pugh stood up, balancing himself against the cab. Helen had to admit that he’d told them more than most officers would have, warning them without talking down to them. Maybe he’d turn out to be an okay joe.

“Nurses!” Pugh shouted the second the truck came to a halt. “You have an hour to get settled in your barracks. Trucks will pick you up at 0800 sharp. Any questions?”

Gals were already climbing out of the truck, landing on tiptoes, obviously spooked by Pugh’s warnings of unexploded mines and bombs. Helen had a hundred questions to ask the colonel, but she went to the top of her list. “Colonel Pugh, what about mail?”

He shook his head. “No outgoing mail for another week. You won’t receive mail from overseas for three weeks since your APOs weren’t released.”

Overseas mail, yes. But what about in-country mail? Helen was afraid to ask. As soon as he discovered she had a husband in England, he’d probably put her in chains until Frank left the country. But she wouldn’t know where to meet Frank unless she got a letter. She had to ask. Besides, he’d find out she was married sooner or later. Helen raised her hand, feeling like a schoolgirl.

Before Pugh could call on her, he answered her unasked question. “If you’ve gotten mail from soldiers on this side, check with the duty officer in your barracks.”

Yes! Helen lowered her hand. A few yards away, what was left of a cement building leaned low to the ground. Smokestacks stuck up from the roof like periscopes on a submarine. A faded sign read, “Barrington’s Broom Factory.”

Helen dashed to the broom barracks and was first in line to sign in. “Helen Eberhart.” She signed where the burly woman pointed. “Any mail for me?”

The woman thumbed through a box of letters. “Eber—?”

“Eberhart.” Helen spelled it for her.

“Sorry, luv.”

“Wait!” How could she be so dense? “Daley. Helen Daley?”

The woman frowned.

“I just got married. I’m sorry. I’m not sorry I got married. I’m happy about that. It’s just, well, the Army doesn’t seem to want to change my name and—”

“Here you go.

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