Operation Murray
This is the beginning of a two chapter tale for the Lallybroch Library Holiday Exchange.
The prompt is from @akb723 - Love, Christmas, and a bit of drama ensues when Ian has been in the VA hospital after having lost his leg. While there, he meets nurse Major Claire Beauchamp. They become friends swapping familial information, stories, etc. Ian tells how much he missed/misses being home for Christmas. Wanting to surprise her friend, Claire attempts to reach out to his listed family, James, to see if there would be any way to get Ian home for Christmas, or at the very least, bring Christmas to Ian.
@thelallybrochlibrary holiday exchange
Chapter 1 - Operation Telic
Also available on AO3
Major Claire Beauchamp was reading a report that had landed on her desk earlier that day. It began: The UK lost 179 servicemen and women during Operation Telic that followed the invasion of Iraq on 20 March 2003. Many of those who died were killed by roadside bombs or in clashes with insurgents while on patrol. Others died as a result of accidents, so-called "friendly fire" strikes, suicide or natural causes. The six-year British military mission came to an end in April 2009.
She picked up a book sitting on her desk and threw it at the wall, letting out a squeal: “And what about the poor bastards left permanently maimed by this fucking war that should never have happened!” she cried. Lying in the hospital under her command were three wards of the permanently maimed from the operation in Iraq. It was December 2009 and although the military mission technically ended in April 2009, there were service personnel who had been so badly damaged, physically and psychologically, that moving them back to their homes hadn’t been possible.
She returned to the report: 3,598 British personnel were wounded, injured or fell ill (315 wounded in action); 1,971 of whom required aeromedical evacuation.
All the service personnel in her three wards had been aeromedical evacuations. Some had lost legs, some arms, some their sight. Some had received wounds which left them in need of skin grafts and reconstructive surgery. A small group had been prisoners of war. A majority were suffering psychological damage. Those left in the wards had needed considerable medical care before they could even be evacuated. Life as they’d known it was over and they needed a team of professionals to prepare them for life after military service.
Claire and some of the other nursing staff had served in Combat Support Hospitals and Field Hospitals in Iraq. Many of their patients had suffered from gastroenteritis, skin conditions, upper respiratory tract infections and other less serious conditions. They had been treated and returned to the field when ready. The more serious injuries were people whose names were permanently etched in her memory. And the nurses they’d lost were personal and professional friends.
Back in the UK, the Op Telic veterans were housed at a Ministry of Defence Hospital Unit in Portsmouth, on the south coast of England. The unit was part of the Queen Alexandra Hospital, with specialist surgeons experienced in war injuries. It had been decided to keep the Telic veterans together in one facility for medical and social reasons. Many had served together and were known personally to the medical staff.
Almost all the service personnel had family or friends who could visit. The train trip from London took less than two hours. Claire had spoken to these visitors and arranged with many to come to the hospital for Christmas Day. She had bailed up the Minister for Defence on his last visit and secured funding for a fully catered Christmas lunch for the patients and their families. Claire was known for not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Her colleagues loved her tenacity and determination, and the patients knew that they had an advocate. The MoD knew she got results and could use her success rates for PR – provided they listened to her when she demanded support.
She had one patient who had received no visitors: Ian Murray.
On weekends, when other patients had visitors who were laughing, plying them with chocolate and showing photos, Claire would wander in to the ward to find Ian in bed with his head in a newspaper held high so he couldn’t see them and they couldn’t see him. He would receive regular letters with photos – his wife, his children, his home. It wasn’t hard to see why his wife didn’t visit – four children aged between 18 months and five years and elderly parents and a farm to care for.
“What are their names?”, Claire asked as she looked at the latest photograph.
“That’s my eldest, wee Jamie, and he’s 5. Next to him is Maggie, who’s 4 and holding her hand is Kitty, who’s 3. The baby is young Ian, who’s 18 months. The elderly couple behind them are Brian and Ellen, my in-laws. Jenny’s got her hands full caring for all of them while Jamie works the farm”, Ian explained.
“Two Jamies? Just to make life even more complicated?” Claire smiled.
“Aye, Jenny’s brother. He’s great with the bairns”, Ian smiled. “And a great friend as well as my brother-in-law. He must have taken the photo”.
“So, Jamie Fraser Senior is the person listed as your family?” Claire asked.
“Aye, if anything went awry, I’d prefer Jamie be contacted. It’s been hard on Jenny. I havena seen her for over two years, and when I last saw her, we made wee Ian. I was on leave and I hit the landmine within days of returning to duty.” He rolled his eyes: “Jenny only has to look at it and she’s pregnant.”
“And you only have to look at her?” Claire laughed.
“Fair point. She’s a bonny woman and my childhood sweetheart”, Ian said. Claire noticed his eyes glistening with tears and offered him the tissue box.
“I think you need to blow your nose”, she suggested.
Visiting Ian became a habit for Claire. She knew that medical care was only part of the rehabilitation process. She came to know Ian’s coffee order (strong black with two sugars). She also knew that if there was shortbread available, he preferred to have that with white tea and one sugar. She’d even adopted some of his strange Scots vocabulary: “You’re a wee scunner!” for the whiners in their midst, “she’s up to high doh” for the nurses who got riled up and “awa’ an bile yer heid” when he wanted someone to rack off.
Claire watched Ian as the ward’s Christmas tree was erected. He became uncharacteristically withdrawn and “awa’ an bile ye rheid” became an even more common phrase used for all and sundry. She had already been writing to the family to keep them informed of Ian’s progress, but now she decided to phone.
Getting hold of Jamie Fraser was easier said than done. She tried his mobile several times, not wanting to ring the family home for fear of alarming Jenny. When he finally returned her call, she had to listen carefully to understand his strong brogue:
“I couldna ring afore. I’m out on the farm most o’ the day. Is Ian peely wally?” he asked.
“Well, I’m not sure. What does peely wally actually mean?” Claire asked with a smile.
“Sorry, I mean is he sickly?” Jamie explained.
“Well, having the lower part of your leg blown off by a land mine does tend to make one a bit peely wally, but that’s not why I’m calling”, Claire replied. “I’m just wondering if we can arrange to have Ian contacted by the family on Christmas Day. I know it’s difficult to visit, but I wondered if I could set up a FaceTime call so he can see the children and Jenny, or maybe just a phone call so he can hear them. So many other families will have visitors – it’s a difficult time for him”, Claire told him.
“Aye. I wish we could be there but Ma and Da are both in need of care and the bairns seem to be on a cycle of illness. As soon as one gets well, another goes down wi’ something”, Jamie said sounding exhausted. “The internet drops out here all the time, but a phone call would be a grand idea. If ye let me know what time suits ye, I’ll be sure to have everyone ready. Did ye want it to be a surprise?” he asked.
“A surprise would be brilliant, but I think he needs to know that we’re organising something to keep his spirits up. I’ll let him know he’ll be hearing from you – and thank you for all you do. Ian speaks very highly of you”, she said.
“Tell him his present’ll be in the post as soon as I can get to Broch Mordha. And thank ye for thinking of this. We all appreciate everything ye do”, Jamie told her.
Claire wrote the time in her diary. She wanted to be sure she was in situ at the moment they’d agreed on. She headed down to the ward and told Ian: “I appreciate that Claire. It’ll be good to chat with them. I miss them all sae much.”
Claire and the rest of the staff were flat out preparing for Christmas. She and others without families had volunteered to work over the Christmas holiday. They ensured every patient had at least one gift and that tables were set for those who could sit up and bed serving trays who had to remain in bed. The wards were beautifully decorated in an effort to provide as much festive cheer as possible.
Claire waited by Ian’s bed with the phone waiting for the call from Ian’s family.
