Surprise

I was walking down Vanbrugh Hill, Greenwich, having just paid a visit to friends at the nurses' home. I was on my way to visit my former training school friends at St. Alfege's Hospital. It was pouring with rain. I had no umbrella but someone walking up the hill, with an umbrella hiding her face, bumped into me.

She said, "I'm sorry" - then, "Aren't you Nurse Peters?" (my single name).

I said, "Yes but I do not seem to know you".

She replied, "I'm Pansy".

I was astounded. Pansy, when 14 years old, had been sent home early from work to avoid the air raids but was caught in one and had shrapnel wounds. One piece of shrapnel had lodged in her heart.

She was put in an oxygen tent and never left alone for a moment. I 'specialed' her on many of my nights on duty. The London specialist who came to see her left strict instructions as to her care.

When the piece of shrapnel moved various signs would be evident. He was to be informed immediately and Pansy was to be moved to a hospital outside of London for surgery.

One night I reported for duty to learn that Pansy had been evacuated that day. There was no way for me to know the outcome of her operation.

We chatted for a moments before going our separate ways.

Ill as she was, Pansy had somehow learned my name and remebered it.

What a boost to my morale that was; it certainly helped me cope with the bad times.

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