Hope - Lesley Pearse [184]
Bennett stopped short, not wishing to tell Hope the truth about what he’d seen when he was called upon the previous night.
He’d known of course that it was customary for the wives who wished to go with their husbands to be picked by ballot the night before the regiment went on active service. Only six wives per company were allowed to go, and any who were mothers were ruled out.
He and Hope were asleep when Corporal Mears banged on their door and told Bennett his services were required. Expecting that it would be nothing more than a few stitches needed after a drunken brawl, he told Hope to go back to sleep and slipped out with the Corporal.
But the Corporal led him to the back of a shed, and by the light of their lamp he saw Colour Sergeant John Wagner slumped on the ground in a pool of blood, his throat cut and a razor still in his hand. When Bennett touched him he found him icy cold: he had been dead for some time.
‘He walked out when the ballot was being drawn,’ Mears said. ‘We knew he was upset his wife and child couldn’t go, but we never expected this.’
‘But he was a good soldier with fifteen years’ service,’ Bennett exclaimed in horror.
‘Leaving his wife and child unsupported was just too much for him.’ Mears shrugged. ‘Though heaven knows how he thought this would help.’
‘What is it, dearest?’ Hope asked, breaking into his reverie.
‘Nothing, apart from thinking that this country doesn’t treat its defenders too well,’ Bennett replied, feeling unable to dampen Hope’s excitement at what she thought was going to be a marvellous adventure by telling her what he’d seen the previous night. ‘But you must look around the women on board and approach one to be your servant. All of them will be glad of the extra money, but be sure to pick one who is clean and honest.’
The ship bucked and rolled in the heavy seas all the way down the coast of France and through the Bay of Biscay, and many of the company suffered from sea sickness. But Bennett and Hope stayed remarkably well, and it gave Hope a golden opportunity to mingle with the soldiers and their wives who were sick, taking them first arrowroot and then beef tea to rebuild their strength once the sickness had passed.
Queenie Watson was the woman she picked as her servant, but it wasn’t her cleanliness or honesty which singled her out, only her spirit. Queenie and her rifleman husband Robbie had hatched a plan in case Queenie wasn’t picked in the ballot. Robbie had trained her in drill and she’d spent the last night in the barracks, hair cut short and in full dress uniform, posing as a soldier. She had carried it off well enough to pass muster the following morning and marched with the troops to the ship undetected. It was only once on board that she had been discovered, but fortunately for her Lady Errol, the wife of the Earl of Errol, a Company Commander of the Rifles, was on board. She was being seen off by her two friends, the Marchioness of Stafford and the Duchess of Sutherland. The three ladies had been sympathetic to Queenie’s plight and persuaded the Earl of Errol to let her travel with them.
As soon as Hope had heard about this she’d been sure she would like the woman, and she wasn’t disappointed. Queenie had red hair, sharp features and a defiant manner. Along with her courage, Hope found her to have a great sense of humour. If she had to be stuck in the company of another woman for long periods, she wanted someone who would at least be entertaining.
Six weeks after leaving England, they arrived at Scutari in Turkey on 7 April. They had spent some time in Malta, then moved on to Gallipoli where they received the news that England and France had declared war on Russia.
They still didn’t know where they were ultimately bound for. A newrumour started nearly every day, which could place the action anywhere between Odessa and the Danube. But Hope had already been initiated in some of the hardships that could befall an army wife on a campaign.
In Malta she and Bennett