Hope Frihauf

Where There is Hope

My fellow nurses,
I have told you that devotion will give you real happiness, and the thought that you have done,
before God and yourselves, your whole duty and with a good heart will be your greatest support
in the hard moments of life and in the face of death.
Your dearest friend,
Edith.
They executed my beloved teacher, mentor, and friend Edith Cavell what feels like only
months ago. The letter that she left us all is the only thing left of her. The nurses are
emotionless molds, cut out with the same shape and features since it happened. Before, we
still somehow managed to be happy despite the circumstances of our patients. Now, with Edith
gone, the floors are dusty and old from the lack of care, and the rooms are full of shadows of
memories. The dull buzz of the lights inhabit my thoughts because the nurses hardly talk
anymore. We must try our best to follow the efforts of Edith. The Germans should have realized
that we would not stop trying to help people into Belgium when they decided to kill our very
good friend. The Germans are selfish and manipulative people.
I pass my good friend Annie Monton in the hall. She will not make eye contact with me.
Annie has taken Edith's passing worse than the rest of us because she worked with Edith longer
than anyone.
Hello Annie,
Hello Alice.
She pushes the words out, eyes watering. A once bright and happy woman is now lost
and afraid. This is exactly how the unresponsive soldiers lose the glint in their eyes. I have seen
the stages of shell shock far too many times. It starts when a sadness comes over the soldier.
Then, they suddenly speak very little. In the end, a glaze comes over their eyes, they refuse to
eat, and eventually die of malnutrition. There is nothing we can do to stop it from happening.
Shell shock is like any other addiction; the hardest part is stopping it from taking over who you
are.
Annie has been very forgetful and careless about her work since she has become
depressed. I am afraid that her confusion could worsen and she could hurt herself. The last
thing this hospital needs is the death of another nurse. Issues such as these need to be brought
to someone with more authority than myself. That person is Nurse Helen. Helen has thick,
brown hair and a sturdy figure that makes her hard to approach. Nobody likes Helen, but I can
see a ray of sunshine beyond the permanent frown on her face.
Nurse Helen? I stammer.
I have no time to talk, Alice. As you can see, I am very busy! She bellows.
I-I'm very sorry to disturb you, but it is of utter importance.
Alright, but quickly my girl.
I am very worried about Nurse Annie.
I have no time for gossip! she barks.
I promise you, it is not gossip.
Then spit it out, girl!

Well you see she has been acting very strange since Edith passed and I'm worried that
she could possibly be suffering from shell shock, I mumble.
Don't be ridiculous! Annie has never been in combat. She couldn't hurt a fly. Perhaps
you should go back to your books again.
Well, maybe shell shock could also refer to a person experiencing something very
traumatic.
You have wasted enough of my time, Alice, she fumes, looking very disappointed in
me.
If you would just consider it, I would be very grateful. I apologize for taking up so much
of your time.
Helen goes back to work, ignoring my concern. She is right though, we have more
pressing matters to be attending to. Our British and French troops have started a new battle
against the Germans. Helen warned us that we should be prepared to be cleaning up several
more soldiers. We only have about 200 soldiers in our hospital and I am very new to nursing, so
I haven't seen much more than this during my time here. I am afraid that Im not prepared for a
mass amount of wounded soldiers.
At such a young age of 23 years, and having only been working in the hospital as a
registered nurse for about four months, I could hardly be considered able to handle extreme
injuries. I have only heard horror stories about the blighty wounds, as some of the soldiers call
them. Maybe if I enter the situation with a good heart as Edith told us, then I will be able to do
anything. I wish I could believe in myself.
Hundreds of soldiers begin arriving. The spacious emptiness of our hospital makes it
perfect for sending the new dangerously wounded soldiers. Walking through the hospital, I am
very disoriented and am not able to deal with the situation with as much grace as I would like
when they arrive. There are soldiers being sent in from all different directions. Everywhere I turn
there is a new soldier with blood spilling over his body. These soldiers don't look like they could
possibly still be living, but they managed to survive. By the end of the day, some soldiers will die
and others will be sent to different hospitals. We are able to get the hospital running smoothly in
no time.
There are about fifty soldiers I am assigned to, each of them in a horrifying condition.
Some have lost limbs, and, worse yet, others have lost their eyes or ears. I have a difficult time
communicating with many of them. The soldiers who had lost their hearing are cleaned up and
sent home. They can no longer serve in the war. Some refuse to be sent away after
experiencing what they have and try to end their lives. This forced us to take anything that could
be used as a weapon out of the room. The condition of the soldiers doesn't bother me, but the
longing they have to be taken from this world does.
Many of the soldiers are very confused and I am mistaken for a soldier's wife several
times. If they are in a terrible condition, I go along with their confusion by making them feel as
though they are in perfect condition. There isn't much more that I can do to make their dying a
little more peaceful. One soldier in particular stands out to me. His face is very familiar.
Alice? he cries out in a daze.
Yes, I'm Nurse Alice, I whisper kindly.
No no, not Nurse Alice. Just Alice.
Oh yes, I'm just Alice, I say, deciding to play along.

How is your mother doing?

She is very well.
My mother is no longer here. Her death is very difficult for me often times and this
soldier speaking of someone elses mother who is suffering makes me feel almost connected to
him. It strikes me as odd that he would ask about the mother of this Alice, another Alice. The
familiarity cuts deep into my past and I try to figure out how I know him. I continue the
conversation, this time not playing along.
Who is Alice? I question.
Why, you are Alice, my dear.
I am Alice, I say, but I'm not your Alice.
Oh. I apologize...you just look like someone I once knew.
It is quite all right, Mister...Oh, it looks as though there is no name here. Do you
remember your name?
My name is... He thinks hard. Well that's odd, he says after a moment. I do not
remember.
Can I call you Thomas for now? That is one of my favorite names, I offer.
Thomas...yes, that is quite all right.
All right, Thomas. I think that you are cleaned up well enough for right now. I will come
back to check on you in a few hours.
It isnt unusual for a soldier to mistake me for someone else, but theres something
different about Thomas. The memories come flooding back and I remember who he reminds me
of.
A couple of years ago, my husband fought in the war and was one of the unfortunate
souls that didn't make it. I was hardly able to function after that. I spent many of my days staring
at the wall or sobbing quietly where no one could hear me. When I had finally accepted that I
had to move on, I swore to never speak of it again. Immediately, I got rid of all pictures that I had
of us except for one. It is a small, old picture. I can barely see his face in it anymore, but I keep
it for a time that I might really need it. A little part of me always hopes that he may possibly still
be alive. It almost seems possible that Thomas is my husband.
Thomas has the same brown hair and scattered freckles as my husband, but he also
has more scars and brown eyes that droop, differentiating the two men. Although it is impossible
for Thomas to actually be my husband, slowly he manages to heal the wound created by his
death. My mind doesn't want me to believe that Thomas is my husband, but my heart is telling
me that it is him. His soft voice breaks through the barrier I created from the death of so many of
the people closest to me and I cant help but want to be with him forever. It is hard for me to
break out of my shell, but slowly I manage to with Thomas around.
I'm back. I smile.
Oh good. I've started remembering a few things again.
That's wonderful! I shout a little too loudly. I receive a few confused stares from around
the room.
Would you like to explain them to me so that we can find the kind of treatment you
need? I say in a quieter voice.
Yes, but you should know that there are going to be things that will be difficult to
understand.

Oh, I'm sure I'll be able to handle it. I am a registered nurse, you know.
All right. There were about a hundred of us. We were all shooting at the the Germans
when we heard a plane fly over us and a German man shouted...Something...I don't really
remember what it was because none of us spoke German. Even so, I had no desire to hear
what they had to say; it is never anything important. I was terribly wrong. Soon enough, there
were shells flying everywhere around us. We were not prepared with the right supplies and
several soldiers died. Near me, my best friend Charlie got blown to pieces. His arm was 20
meters from his leg. This was not an uncommon fate as I looked around the battlefield. I had
never seen so many deaths within such a short amount of time. I managed to get out with only a
wounded leg and partial memory loss. I was one of the few lucky ones.
I'm sorry. You must excuse me for a moment. I say. I am beginning to feel a bit queasy.
Oh I'm sorry if I have frightened you! I forgot that I was talking to a lady. You must
forgive me. I'm not used to being around women!
No its quite alright. I will be back momentarily.
These men go through so much just to help their country. Questions begin to flow
through my head. Was this the fate of my husband? Had his fate been even worse? The room
around me begins to spin.
Are you alright? My friend Mary says,confused.
I just need a moment, I mutter under my breath.
As soon as I arrive at the bathroom, I fall to the floor. I try to compose myself, but I cant
hold my emotions in forever. They take hold of me and I start questioning whether Im strong
enough to do this job. After much grieving and a few tears, I manage to make my way to Helen's
office. She motions toward me with open arms as if she knows exactly what I need.
Nurse Helen?
My goodness! You are as white as a ghost! What has happened?
I am afraid I do not think I am fit for this job, I blubber.
Oh, my dear, do you know why I am so hard on you?
No.
It is because I see such potential in you. I have never seen a nurse more dedicated to
the well being of others. She comforts me with her words of encouragement, filling me with
determination. Now pull yourself together and go help those patients.
I will, thank you.
I wipe the tears from my face and march back to where Thomas lies. I focus on my duty
to help each soldier that I come into contact with as much as I can, like Edith did. Nursing
makes up for the unfortunate events in my life.
I'm back, I whisper.
Lovely, He smiles, I realized that I do not know a single thing about you.
Well I'm 23 years old. I'm from London, and I have no siblings... Although, I would
consider the nurses my sisters.
No, I mean...Who are you? He insists.
That is practically all that there is to me.
That's not true. My wife used to try to make me believe that when we first met.
What was that that you said? I inquire, curious to hear more.
I said my wife..

That! Stop there! You said your wife. You remembered something! I exclaim.
Ha! I remembered something before the war! He rejoices.
Do you remember anything else?
No, not much else.
No children?
Not that I can think of.
That's alright. You are remembering. That's what is really important. Do you at least
remember her name?
Yes, it is Alice. He blushes.
Oh I see, so this is the famous Alice.
Yes.
Well, I will let you rest. You will need sleep if you want to recover more of your
memories.
His wifes name is Alice. This new piece of information surges through my brain, causing
me to discover the depths of my heart that I havent explored since what I thought was the death
of my husband. I am his Alice. I'm almost sure of it. He has to be my husband, because if he's
not, then my husband must be dead. The facts about Thomas all add up. He has a wife named
Alice, no children, and he looks almost identical to my husband. I don't want to give myself false
hope, but I am almost certain that it is him.
I go and clean up more of my other, more healthy patients, then move on to help some
of the newer soldiers whose wounds are far from being healed. We are receiving less soldiers
now that the British and French are able to prepare themselves. We are also able to send many
of the soldiers either home or back to the western front. Although were stationed in a military
hospital, we still are not equipped with the right materials. Even so, we are able to fix a lot of the
soldiers up so that now there are about two hundred of them still in the hospital. It is still a large
amount of soldiers, but not as many as we had before. Out of the corner of my eye I see Mary
running up to me.
Have you heard the news?
What news?
We have received new tools! She cheers.
How exciting! Now we can work more quickly!
It's not just tools, either; they've sent us more morphine!
Oh thank the Lord! I exclaim.
We must get back to caring to the soldiers. She remarks excitedly.
They are all going to want some more morphine. I add.
This is the best news that we have heard in several months. Im ecstatic that we have
received new tools, but there is also a part of me that fears this will mean that Thomas will need
to go home sooner. I am not ready to give up another person in my life. Thomas has helped with
the darkness of my past and if he has to leave, it will be like he is cutting into the injuries all over
again. I will do whatever I can to be with him for the limited amount of time that we have left.
Hello Thomas.
That's not my name, my name is Henry.
You remembered your name! I exclaim.
I remember my name, He mutters. My name is Henry!

That's quite odd, I say quietly. My husband's name was Henry. I try to wake up from the
dream that I've had so many times before, but it is not a dream this time.
How is your mother doing? Is she still struggling with her cancer? Henry says, ignoring
my comment.
She died a few months ago. How did you know about my mother? I question.
Well you and I have been married for two years.
You're delusional. You should rest. Your wife isn't here.
Yes you are.
I'm not your wife. My husband died in the war. I'm sure he is dead.
I am not dead my dear.
The words cut into me like a thousand little knives. Not the kind of knives that cause
deep pain, but rather like knives that make you realize you can feel again. I feel like a soldier
who had felt nothing for so long and then all at once, felt everything. Thomas...or Henry was my
husband. I can accept that now. My husband is not dead.
Henry, its really you! My face lights up, tears of joy streaming down my face as I throw
my arms around my husband.
I'm here now. I'm sorry I didn't write. I just couldn't make you believe that I was alive if I
was just going to die later, but I'm here now.
When did your memory come back? I ask.
I'm not quite sure. I was looking at the trees outside and thinking about the picnics that
we used to have together under the big birch tree near our house in London and I guess I must
have forgotten that my memory was ever gone.
Well, I will just need to do a few check-ups on you and you will need to leave tomorrow.
Im sorry. I sigh.
I don't want the words to be true. He would have to leave in a couple of days and
opening myself up now would only make the pain of him leaving again even greater.
You mean I have to go back? Please don't make me. He begs, desperate for me to
allow him to stay.
You must. Your leg is perfectly fine and your memory is wonderful again. There is
nothing that I can do. I want you to stay more than anything, but you simply cannot.
There must be something that can be done!
I'm afraid not. I shiver, repressing my urge to save him from his fate. I will be back in a
few hours to check on you. Goodbye Henry.
I can't say much more than this. There isn't much more to say. All I can do is pray and
hope that God has mercy and brings him back home.
What's wrong Alice? Annie asks me. This is the first time she has said more than a few
words since Edith's passing.
Just a soldier that I have been helping, that's all, I say, slightly startled.
Alice, I have been living in that kind of denial for several months. All I have learned is
that as long as you live in denial, you will be living in hell. Sharing pain is how we are able to
cope. So what is really wrong Alice?
Oh Annie, it is the most terrible news. My husband is the soldier that I have been
helping, but I was convinced that he was dead. He must leave tomorrow and I cannot bear to be

without him again. I sob, finally letting out the emotions that Ive been suppressing since the
first day he arrived.
Alice that's horrible!
There is nothing we can do. I mutter.
I'm sure that God would not be so cruel as to take him away from you again. He will be
protected. I'm sure of it.
Alright.
I feel a little better, but I am still not convinced. I am blessed with this short time with him
and that is more than I was able to have a month ago. In the morning we say our goodbyes.
Thank you for everything He says with the same sad eyes and skinny face as the first
day he came to the hospital.
It was nothing. I say with a raspy voice. Its obvious that I have been crying.
I will fight as hard as I can to stay alive.
I will be waiting for you.
And with that he was gone.

Since then, the days are bittersweet. Some days are harder to get through than others.
Henry's leaving brought the nurses closer together and broke the wall created between us when
Edith died. It helped us learn that dwelling on the death of people is pointless. While we were
sulking over Edith's death, we were ignoring the needs of our closest friends. We are not nurses
for the physically dying; rather, we are nurses for the dead in spirit.
Annie has bounced back and the twinkle in her eye has returned. The hospital is running
smoothly and my work distracts me from the thought of Henry. I ask some of our patients about
him. Most of them don't know him, but I can't help but wonder where he is. Someday Henry will
come back to me and if he doesn't, then I have found my own family here in the hospital that will
take care of me. I learned that family is found by helping each other when in need.
Plot Arc:
1. Exposition: pages 1&2
Rising Action: pages 3&4
Climax: pages 5.5
Falling Action: pages 6.5
Denouement: pages 7