Disaster Relief
April 1906
San Francisco
Claire stepped out of the tiny cottage on the Presidio of San Francisco. Veronique and Maeve Kaye were still asleep. It was amazing that the three of them could find enough room to sleep in the little green building, but they did.
Wrapping her plain black shawl around her shoulders, Claire began the long walk to get a hot cup of tea. She wondered how Michael and Gilbert were doing back at their Cow Hollow houses, guarding the property against looters. So many people had lost everything in the earthquake; the Kaye and Rochambeau homes had escaped relatively unscathed, but others in the neighborhood had not been so lucky. General Funston had ordered an evacuation, but gave permission for the men to stay behind as long as the women went to the Presidio.
“It’s for your own safety, ma’am,” Funston had informed her.
The little red-haired man was running the entire city in the aftermath of the disaster. He’d even had the army dynamite Van Ness Avenue in an effort to create a firebreak. At least he had allowed her enough time to pack a carpet bag for herself and Veronique, and let her stay with Maeve.
Watching another wagon head toward the Lombard gate, laden with armed men, barbed wire and who knew what else, Claire could only reflect that she was a long way from home.
“Morning, Miz Rochambeau,” one of the soldiers called to her.
She couldn’t remember his name, to her embarrassment, although she was sure she had met him. There were so many of them. Claire raised her hand in greeting and kept walking.
When she finally reached the canteen, there was a line. Claire queued up with everyone else, listening to the gossip. The entire city was in ruins, and anyone who could safely get to the Presidio had done so. The army was providing food, shelter (Claire was glad to be in a little cottage and not one of the barracks-like tents) and medical care to all in need … and there were many. The city’s upper crust found themselves mingling with the poorest of the poor; the disaster was a great leveler.
By the time Claire reached the front of the line, she had decided to volunteer to help in the hospital. If nothing else, she could wind bandages or help write letters. She sipped the tea as she walked toward the Army General Hospital, a two-storey building with turret-like structures on one corner. The large windows marked them as surgery rooms.
“May I help you?” The orderly at the front desk was terse.
“Yes, monsieur. I am Claire Rochambeau. My home is in Cow Hollow, from where we were evacuated. How may I help you here?”
“This is no place for ladies.“
“Do not dismiss me, monsieur. I asked how I could help. Will you pretend that there is no need?”
The orderly sighed.
“There’s a need, ma’am. But not for soft-handed ladies like yourself. We need nurses who aren’t afraid of seeing injuries. We can’t have anyone fainting at the sight of blood.”
“Monsieur, if you had the slightest idea of what I have seen in my life, you would never have said such things. I have never fainted, and you may rest assured that I do not plan to begin now. With whom must I speak to find out how I may help?”
Claire’s tone suggested that she would brook no resistance.
“With me,” came the voice from behind her. “We are the first hospital to employ women from the Army Nurse Corps, madame, so we are no strangers to the fairer sex in our corridors. We are also woefully understaffed as you may imagine. I’m Lieutenant Colonel George Torney, the hospital commander.”
“I am Claire Rochambeau,” she replied, extending her hand. The mustachioed commander took it with a firm handshake.
“You may regret your offer before long, Mrs. Rochambeau.” The colonel’s tone was solemn. “I need every pair of hands I can get, between this facility and the field hospital in Golden Gate Park.“
“My daughter and my neighbor are on the Presidio as well. I will bring them this afternoon so that you may put all three of us to work.”
“Rest assured, madame, that I shall do exactly that.”
Claire thanked Colonel Torney and the orderly, and went on her way. Her tea was now lukewarm at best, but she didn’t care. She had work to do.