Sisters Under the Rising Sun

The novel’s opening chapters establish a narrative structure that juxtaposes the civilian and military female experiences of war, using a shifting third-person perspective to create parallel storylines that are destined to converge. By focusing on two groups—the English civilian sisters Norah and Ena Chambers, and the cohort of Australian Army nurses ultimately led by Nesta James—the narrative considers two distinct forms of female endurance. Through Norah’s grief over sending away her daughter, Sally, the novel explores the personal trauma of familial separation, while the nurses’ storyline shows them balancing their professional and private roles as they grapple with the loss of friends and colleagues. The use of brief flashbacks, such as Norah recalling her promise to Sally or Nesta remembering her pre-war life, contrasts a lost world of normalcy with the immediate chaos. This structure sets up the tension between individual suffering and communal survival, foreshadowing how these disparate groups will eventually forge a single, interdependent community.

The evacuation and shipwreck facilitate the initial characterization of the two primary protagonists, Norah and Nesta. Norah is introduced in her domestic roles as a mother and wife, her trauma filtered through the violent severing of these connections. Her character arc begins in a state of reaction and grief. In contrast, Nesta James is defined by her professional identity. Amid the sinking of the Vyner Brooke, her training and sense of duty override personal fear. Her introduction, where she states that she has “been trained to help” (9), encapsulates her character as a representative of order, discipline, and a professional ethos. The contrast between Norah’s familial identity and Nesta’s professional one suggests that survival will require both personal loyalty and structured care and aid.

These initial chapters establish the theme of The Indiscriminate Brutality of War by centering the targeting of noncombatants. The bombing of the Vyner Brooke, a ship carrying civilian refugees and wounded servicemembers, followed by the machine-gunning of survivors in the water, flouts conventional rules of engagement by unleashing violence on the defenseless. The story of Vivian Bullwinkel, the sole survivor of the  Radji Beach Massacre, provides an even starker example of wartime atrocities. Her pronouncement that the other nurses from her lifeboat are “all dead” elicits expressions of disbelief from those around her, establishing the violation of norms that has occurred, even in a conflict full of such violations. The nurses’ subsequent oath of secrecy further suggests the danger they are all in. By placing this eyewitness account of a war crime at the heart of the early narrative, the novel clarifies what the women are up against in their struggle for survival.

Simultaneously, the narrative lays the groundwork for The Power of Female Solidarity in a Dehumanizing Environment. The Australian nurses function as a cohesive unit from the moment they appear on the Singapore wharf, demonstrating a pre-existing bond forged by shared service. This collective strength is demonstrated in their response to Vivian’s story, as they form a protective circle of secrecy around her. Among the civilians, a similar solidarity emerges organically. Margaret Dryburgh, a missionary teacher, assumes a leadership role by tending to Ena and Norah’s burns, while women who were not shipwrecked share clothing with those who lost everything. This act of sharing resources is symbolic, signifying the dissolution of past social divisions and the creation of a new, unified identity as prisoners. These early examples of mutual aid establish that the women’s primary defense against the dehumanizing forces of war will be their ability to form a community built on shared sacrifice and care.

In tandem with this idea, singing emerges as a primary tool of spiritual and cultural resistance, foreshadowing the later theme of Art and Music as a Form of Spiritual Resistance. When the nurses stand on the wharf in Singapore, surrounded by fire, they link arms and sing “Now Is the Hour”—a claim of collective identity and hope loud enough to temporarily drown out the sounds of a falling city. Later, adrift on a plank, Nesta sings “Waltzing Matilda,” a song that connects her to her national identity and home in a moment of extreme isolation. Norah’s identity as a classically trained musician is also mentioned, signaling that her skills will be crucial to the community’s resilience. Overall, the novel contrasts the human voice—a symbol of life, culture, and emotion—with the impersonal, mechanical violence of war. By establishing this contrast so early, the narrative posits that art is a tool of survival.