that was not one and an antenna concealed by my clothes. I answered, `Blood’s a
Rover to Horse, roger.’
I heard, ‘British Yeoman to Horse, roger. Eighty minutes. One hour twenty minutes.’
I said ‘Blood to Horse. I heard Gretchen’s roger. Should I?’
Gwen Hazel shut off transmission and spoke to me, `You shouldn’t hear her until you
both shift to Coventry 1941. Mau, will you please go through to Coventry for a
second comm. check?’
‘I did so; we established that Gwen Hazel’s link to me, forty-fourth C to twentieth
C, was okay, and that now I could hear Gretchen – both as they should be. Then I
went back to Boondock, as I was not yet gowned or masked. There was one point in the
transition where something tugged at one’s clothes and my ears popped – a static
baffle against an air-pressure inequality, I knew. But ghostly, just the same.
Deety reported that the bombers’ fighter escort was becoming airborne. The German
Messerschmidts were equal to or better than the Spitfires, but they had to operate
at the very limit of their range – it took most of their gasoline to get there and
get back; they could engage in dogfighting only for a few minutes – or wind up in
the Channel if they miscalculated.
Gwen Hazel said, ‘Dagmar. Take your station.’
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‘Roger wilco.’ Dagmar went through, gowned, masked, and capped – not yet gloved…
although God knows what good gloves would do in the septic conditions we would
experience. (Protect us, maybe, if not our patients.)
I tied Woodrow’s mask for him; he did so for me. We were ready.
Gwen Hazel said, ‘Godiva’s Horse to all stations sirens. British Yeoman, activate
gate and shift time. Acknowledge.’
‘Yeoman to Horse, roger wilco!’
‘Horse to Yeoman, report arrival. Good hunting!’ Hazel added to me, ‘Mau, you and
Lazarus can go through now. Good luck!’
I followed Lazarus through… and swallowed my heart. Dagmar was gowning Father. He
glanced at us as we came out from behind that curtain, paid us no further attention.
I heard him say to Dagmar, ‘I haven’t seen you before, Sister. What’s your name?’
‘Dagmar Dobbs, Doctor. Call me Dag if you like. I just came up from London this
morning, sir, with supplies.’
‘So I see. First time in weeks we seen a clean gown. And masks – what swank! You
sound like a Yank, Dag.’
‘And I am, Doctor – and so do you.’
‘Guilty as charged. Ira Johnson, from Kansas City.’
‘Why, that’s my home town!’
‘I thought I heard some tall corn in your speech. When the Heinies go home tonight,
we must catch up on home town gossip.’
‘I don’t have much; I haven’t been home since I got my cap and pin.’
Dagmar kept Father busy and kept his attention – and I thanked her under my breath.
I didn’t want him to notice me until the raid was over. No time for Old Home Week
until then.
The first bombs fell, some distance away.
I saw nothing of the raid. Ninety-three years ago, or seven months later that same
year, depending on how you count it, I saw bombs falling on San Francisco under
circumstances in which I had nothing to do but look up and hold my breath and wait.
I’m not sorry that I was too busy to watch the bombing of Coventry. But I could hear
it. If you can hear it hit, it is too far away to have your name on it. So they tell
me. I’m not sure I believe them.
Gwen Hazel said in my ear, ‘Did you pear Gretchen? She says they got sixty-nine out
of seventy-two of the first wave.’
I had not heard Gretchen. Lazarus and I were busy with our first patient, a little
boy. He was badly burned and his left arm was crushed. Lazarus got ready to
amputate. I blinked back tears and helped him.
Chapter 28 – Eternal Now
I am not going to batter your feelings or mine by describing the details of that
thousand-year night. Anything agonising you have ever seen in the emergency room of