Hope - Lesley Pearse [197]
Worse still, Bennett could see that cholera had come with them. He sawmen doubled up in pain, but still trying to keep on marching. He could do nothing for them, for there was no transport to get them back to a ship, nor even a field hospital where they could be left. He and his medical assistants were providing the only medical help for the entire regiment. Their equipment consisted of a couple of straw baskets of dressings, bandages and a variety of operating tools slung into one of the panniers on the packhorse.
Bennett hoped the Russians weren’t lying in wait ready to attack. He didn’t doubt the courage of the men, nor their ability to put up a strong fight, even if they were sick and tired. But he did doubt his own ability to treat serious wounds with such limited supplies.
Hope was awakened on the morning of 22 September by Queenie banging on the door of her cabin, demanding to be let in.
After the men disembarked at Calamita Bay the ship had sailed back to Eupatoria with the rest of the fleet and weighed anchor just outside the harbour. If Hope hadn’t been so worried about Bennett, and frustrated that she couldn’t talk to Captain Pettigrew about Nell, it would have been idyllic, for the weather was perfect – warm, with a very calm sea. It was peaceful too, for there was only a handful of people left on board, mostly staff on the administration side of the army and a few civilians involved with provisions. Hope had spent most of the time dozing on deck, or playing cards with Queenie.
Queenie ought to have gone on the march with the other soldiers’ wives, for they were needed to do the cooking and washing for all the men, but Robbie had asked Bennett if she could stay on the ship with Hope because he was afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep up. Bennett had been only too glad to agree as he hadn’t liked the idea of his wife being left alone without a female companion.
‘Whatever’s wrong, Queenie?’ Hope grumbled as she got out of her bunk to open the door.
Queenie burst in, her face damp with tears and her eyes brimming with more. ‘There’s been a terrible battle and thousands killed,’ she burst out. ‘Do you think my Robbie’s safe?’
For a moment or two Hope was more shocked by Queenie’s tears than by the news she’d brought, for the girl was always so bright and bouncy, regardless of what was going on all around her.
‘I’m quite sure he’s safe,’ Hope said, enfolding Queenie in her arms. ‘Now, where did you get this information?’
They had heard guns a couple of days earlier, but Captain Kyle had claimed it was the Russians along at Sebastopol, and they were probably firing at a Turkish ship that had come too close.
Queenie was crying too hard to make any sense, so after Hope had dressed she went to see the Captain.
‘There has been a battle,’ he agreed. ‘I don’t know about the casualties yet. But I don’t think they can be as high as you’ve been told.’
There were several more days of terrible tension before the Pride of the Ocean sailed into the harbour at Balaclava, which had been designated as the British base camp. In Eupatoria, rumours had been rife. At one point it was said that the whole cavalry had been wiped out, and Lord Errol of the Rifles killed. Queenie remained tearful, pacing up and down the deck wringing her hands, and all Hope could think was how on earth would the surgeons cope if there were so many casualties.
It transpired that the cavalry had not been wiped out, and Lord Errol had only been wounded in the hand, needing a finger amputated. But there had been a battle. It was at the river Alma, some twenty-five miles from Calamita Bay, and the 1st, 2nd and Light Divisions had all been engaged. Though it was a victory in as much as the British had attacked and seized the Russians’ redoubts and defences, there were serious losses, with over two thousand British killed and wounded. And the French casualties were reported to be higher still.
The port of Balaclava was little more than a single street nestling in the cleft of two formidable