Dreams
A Mysterious Dream
by brad
(4/22/98)
My wife and I were vacationing at a seaside Bed & Breakfast that used to be a stateside WWII rehabilitation and support hospital complex. The focal point of this complex was a large, two-story building that was once the hospital infirmary. This building now housed a WWII museum and stood as a memorial to the soldiers that died there, as well as the tireless staff that worked so diligently to save their lives.
The grounds of this large complex were very lush, with emerald green lawns and colorful blooms bursting from nearly every plant in sight. I could smell the ocean air and feel the cool breeze as it sifted between the many buildings on the property. The atmosphere was serene -- soothing.
Some of the most beautiful foliage on the grounds was in a huge flower garden that stood just outside the entrance to the infirmary. This garden was packed with many different kinds of very colorful, sweet smelling flowers and beautiful evergreen bushes. In the midst of the g reenery stood a tall, white flag pole with an American flag flapping gently in the breeze near the top.
The infirmary itself opened to the ocean side of the complex and had a breath taking view of the grounds, as well as the surf beyond. To the left of the infirmary entrance stood a long narrow building that used to be the hospital administration office. This building now served as the inn's dining hall. The guests were housed in ample sized cabins that were scattered about the complex. These structures formerly served as staff quarters for the doctors and nurses that used to work here.
During one of our walks through the grounds during our stay, my wife and I decided to explore the museum. When we entered the building, the first thing that struck us was the surprising construction and decor of the building. Although the building was constructed in the early 1940's, the interior of the museum looked more like an old fort that was built during the Civil War. The walls and floors were primarily covered with unfinished plank boards, and the second floor was supported by large exposed timber beams. I don't remember seeing any insulated walls or electric light fixtures.
Old pictures covered the walls of the first floor, and freestanding glass display case s containing war artifacts were distributed throughout. One of the display cases even held a scaled down model layout of the entire complex as it stood in 1945. After exploring the first floor for a while, we proceeded upstairs.
The second floor was not much different than the first in decor. Here there were also plank board walls and floors, but unlike the first floor -- the walls and floors were painted a pale green color. The second floor, we learned, is where they kept all the patients when the infirmary was still active.
While touring the second floor, my wife and I became intrigued by the stories of patients and staff told through the memorial plaques attached to, or attached near, each bed. There were beds and plaques all over the place, but it was one particular plaque in the row of beds along the wall facing the ocean that proved especially interesting. This particular story stood out from the rest because of its odd romantic twist that involved a relationship between a former patient and a former staff member.
The story was about a nurse that worked at the infirmary near the end of the war. This young lady fell in love with a soldier she was helping to recover from a gunshot wound. As the soldier started feeling better, they would take daily walks in the surrounding gardens and discuss life, the war and what they planned to do when it was all over. As time passed the two fell in love and their discussions turned to planning a future together, but fate would soon deal them a terrible hand.
Near the time when the young man was preparing to leave the infirmary for a bed in the nearby rehabilitation ward, the nurse fell ill and eventually became bed ridden. Soon, she became so sick that she was admitted to the hospital as a patient and assigned to a bed on the second floor of the infirmary. The only consolation to her sudden illness was that it allowed her to spend more time with her new love who was still recovering just two beds away from her own. They would talk for hours and they frequently joked about the irony of their current situation; the former patient now being the caretaker, and the former caretaker was now the patient.
Soon after her admission, doctors ran some tests and discovered what had stricken the young woman. They knew they could cure it with a course of medication -- however there was one more horrible twist to this tale. The medication required to kill the virus this young woman had contracted was in short supply, and because of this, the soldiers received priority. The only thing that was left for the two young lovers to do was to hope and pray that she would get better on her own.
The days passed and as the soldier got better, the young woman got worse. Each day he would visit with her until she got tired. While she was resting, he would gather fresh daisies -- her favorite -- from the grounds surrounding the infirmary and place them in a vase on her night stand.
After a while it seemed that the young woman was getting better, and with their hopes renewed, they began planning for their future together. Then, one evening, the young woman's health took a sudden turn for the worse and by morning she was gone. The young man was extremely distraught. His health became poorer and it took him much longer to recover than anyone had imagined it would. And although his love had died, the soldier continued to bring fresh daisies to her bedside each day -- right up until the day he was released. After her death, no one else was ever assigned to her bed, which was positioned in the center of the long row of beds under a large window with a beautiful view of the ocean and grounds.
Soon after her death the war ended. In the 1970's, the infirmary was remodeled and converted to a museum and memorial. The young soldier, who had lost his love there so many years before, returned to help dedicate the new museum. He eventually accepted a job as grounds keeper and curator at the museum; he remains there to this day. The bed that his young lover died in also remains. It still sits in its original location in much the same condition as the last night she slept there -- still flanked by a small night stand with a fresh bouquet of daisies resting on top. One of the few additions to this setting is the plaque that tells this story whi ch is mounted to the headboard.
We later found out from the owners of the Inn that the story does not end there. They told us that the ghost of this young woman roams the complex on spring and summer nights. Some say it's because she still longs to see t he young man whom she was suddenly pulled away from so many years ago. Others believe that it's because she wants to tell everyone how she really died. You see, shortly after her sudden passing, rumors started surfacing at the hospital complex about the possibility of a mysterious former suitor that may have played a role in her untimely death.
Legend has it that her blossoming relationship did not make everyone at the hospital complex happy. Stories circulated about a doctor at the complex who also had feelings for this young nurse. When he confronted her with his feelings, she replied that she did not feel the same -- leaving this mystery suitor very angry. Some feel that out of jealousy, this doctor deliberately fabricated a story about a low medication supply in hopes that she would die before his lie was discovered. When she started to recover, he became so infuriated that he somehow managed to poison her to ensure that the two lovers would never be together.
All this was conjecture of course, and none of it was ever proven. However, some still believe that this is what really happened, and that is what her ghost is trying to tell us all.
To say that my wife and I were incredibly excited about the possibility of seeing a real ghost would be an understatement. On top of that, the fact that we had the opportunity to get a first hand account of what really happened from one of the parties involved was too thrilling to pass up. So we decided to search for the curator to get the real story.
When we finally found the man -- who was now very old -- who had been a part of all this, he proceeded to tell us all about the events of the spring of 1944. He told us about his long walks with his love, the plans that never came to fruition and about his lif e since. He also told us that the room and bed was almost exactly the same as when she was in it so long ago. The bed sheets were the same, the mattress was the same, the night stand was the same; even the vase that the daisies were kept in was the same . The only things that were different were the restored walls and stairs, the paint on the walls, the new window coverings and the daisies themselves -- which he replaced every other day himself.
We asked him about her ghost. He said that he'd seen her a few times. He proclaimed that her apparition was still as breath taking as she was in life. He said that he never managed to communicate with her, but she did seem to look at him and smile on o ccasion. As to why she was still wandering the grounds, he did not know. He said that he'd like to think that is was because of him but he just wasn't sure. He also said that he had heard the gruesome stories of the murderous circumstances that surrounded her death. He admitted that is was possible that the rumors are true, but that he'd never noticed any inordinate attention from the doctor in question -- at least while he was there.
The discussion with the curator was very nice and very informative, but it still didn't provide answers to all the questions we had . We thanked the curator for his time, wished him well and headed back to our room. After a short discussion we decided to investigate the ghost on our own. This proved to be a very beneficial decision. During our investigation -- I don't remember how -- we uncovered the real reason why this beautiful young woman still wandered the ground of the hospital complex.
After all the speculation surrounding her death, after all the rumors and folklore, the reason she wanders the complex had nothing to do with w hat anyone thought. She did not mourn for her lover from the past, she was not trying to tell anyone about the suspicious circumstances that surrounded her death, she wasn't even trapped in this dimension with no way out. All she wanted to do was walk the grounds to see her beautiful and beloved daisies.
It amazes me that people can concoct so much to make simple, honest stories seem more insidious, more interesting, more intriguing or more exciting. Yet despite all that, the truth of matters stands the test of time and is usually the most satisfying and simple answer of them all.
What do you dream about? Tell me...