Road to War

by Valerie Wilding

  I began to sob. I don’t know what’s the matter with me, I truly don’t.

  “The Airedale will go back to work, Miss Rowntree,” said Nigel.

  Westerling took my hand. “But you have to go home.”

  Later

  So that’s it. I’m for Blighty. I never found Archie. Not that I was really looking for him – not exactly. I suppose, in my ignorance, and Mimi’s, I thought all I had to do was turn up in Calais and ask, “Has anybody here seen Archie?”

  5th December

  I’m to leave on the boat tomorrow. Jolliphant brought me a postcard from Charles. It said he hopes to be back in this area in a few days, and would like to see me. Unless he comes in the next 24 hours, he’s had it. And I don’t care.

  Except that I do care, very much. But I must put Charles out of my mind. He belongs to someone else.

  6th December

  I’m so touched. All the girls came down to say goodbye today. There was a nice sister on duty, and she and the nurses turned a blind eye to the noisy crowd around my bed.

  “Everyone wanted to drive you to the quay, Rowntree,” said Meldrew. “So we raffled you off.”

  “Who won?”

  “Westerling,” said Jolliphant. “And it sort of fits, as she’s the only one who’s driven you since you were shot.”

  In the end, Meldrew, Jolliphant and a couple of others squeezed in with me, and off we went.

  I wept buckets when I was carried on board. I wept for my friends, for Archie, for Papa, for the Airedale and, most of all, for myself. I was leaving one place where I truly felt I belonged, where people liked me for who I am, and didn’t expect me to be what I am not.

  And I was leaving Charles behind. I know he’s not for me, but I shed a tear for what might have been.

  13th December

  Four ghastly, dreary days in hospital, and at last I’m home. Elsie says she’s missed me terribly, but that might have something to do with the fact that she’s had to help the housemaids while I’ve been away. Freddie and May keep coming up to my room to read to me, which is lovely, but wearing.

  Mimi seems well. Aunt Eloise says she doesn’t talk about the fairies unless someone asks her about them. “And only that fool of a maid of hers does that,” said Aunt Eloise.

  The first thing Mimi said, after hugging me as if she would never let me go, was, “Whatever happened to your hair?”

  “I had it cut.”

  “On purpose?” said Aunt Eloise.

  “Yes,” I said, unwilling to tell them I’d been set upon! “D’you like it?”

  After a brief pause, Aunt Eloise spoke first. “Actually I do. It must save a lot of time in the mornings.”

  “I think it’s very nice, darling,” said Mimi. She was lying.

  Uncle Cecil says Mr Boone is managing the estate in an appropriate manner. He and Aunt Leonora are very proud of me, he says. But he suggests I grow my hair.

  Bobby’s coming to see me this afternoon. I’m looking forward to that. In the meantime, I’m just lying on the sofa in my bedroom. It’s a bit of a squash because Billie’s up here with me. He’s such a comfort. I don’t want to let him go!

  Later

  The first thing Bobby said was, “I like the hair!” Then she wanted to hear every detail about my “accident”, and said she was going to tell all her chums about her brave cousin.

  It’s odd. Here I am, laid out with a bullet hole in my leg and, apart from Bobby, all people talk about is my hair.

  14th December

  Elsie brought the post up to me this morning. There was a letter from Charles, forwarded by the FANY office. I opened it. It was very brief, just saying that he was terribly sorry to hear of my accident, that he misses me, and that he would like to visit me when he’s back in England. Which, he hopes, won’t be too long.

  How can he keep on like this? His Mabel knows nothing of this, so it cannot be hurting her. But it hurts me badly. I threw the letter away. I don’t expect to hear any more from him.

  16th December

  Elsie brought another letter from Charles, but I told her to burn it.

  “Are you sure, Miss Daphne?”

  “I’m sure. Study the handwriting, Elsie, and if any more readdressed letters come in the same writing, destroy them.”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  17th December

  Oh, I do wish Bobby had been here this afternoon! Lady Baguley and Elizabeth called to see me. They were so sweet. They brought flowers, a pretty bottle of rosewater and two beautifully embroidered handkerchiefs. Elizabeth’s work, of course.

  We talked for almost an hour. Lady Baguley could hardly believe some of the things I’ve done. “An engine!” she said in amazement. “You cleaned an engine? But wasn’t it terribly dirty?”

  I was very good. I didn’t laugh.

  Elizabeth was absolutely riveted by my exploits, especially my tale of the German who shot me.

  I kept catching Lady Baguley staring at me, but she is too well-bred to mention my hair. However, as they were leaving, Elizabeth kissed my cheek and whispered. “I think you look very nice, Daphne. Very – very modern.”

  As her mother went downstairs, Elizabeth popped her head back in and said, “I forgot. Reggie would like to call on you. May he?”

  She didn’t forget. She just didn’t want her mother to know that Reggie wants to see me. It wouldn’t do to have her nephew paying his attentions to a tomboy like me. I shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  Elizabeth looked taken aback by my ungracious reply. Oh dear, Daffy – that might be how a FANY speaks, but it’s not how to speak to a Baguley.

  20th December

  What a day. Oh, what a day.

  I was lying on my bedroom sofa with Billie beside me, watching the snow falling on the mulberry tree, when Elsie burst into the room. She pulled herself up straight and knocked. A bit late when she was already over the threshold!

  “Oh, Miss Daphne!”

  “Yes, Elsie, what is it?” I said calmly, thinking she’d probably broken my soap dish or scorched one of my dresses – again.

  “It’s a gentleman, Miss. Oh, what’s his name? Is it Wednesday?”

  “No, it’s Thursday, Elsie. Now try to remember the name. Is it Mr Reginald Baguley?”

  “No, Miss.” She scratched her head, pulling a clump of hair loose from her cap. “Oh, I’ve got it. Wednesday-Croft. Yes,” she said, pleased with herself. “That’s his name.”

  Charles. My heart leapt, and I felt thrilled and sick, both at the same time.

  “Shall I bring him up, Miss Daphne?”

  “Yes. No. Oh, I suppose I must see him if he’s come all this way.” I grabbed my hand mirror. “Elsie, is my hair neat? Is my blouse crumpled? Oh, I hate not being able to walk properly!”

  “You look perfect, Miss Daphne,” said Elsie. She tweaked my hair and stood back, satisfied.

  “Then please fetch the gentleman.”

  “Yes, Miss.” She bobbed a curtsey and left, closing the door behind her.

  I remembered what we were told to do in first aid if we felt queasy or nervous, and took some deep steadying breaths. Unfortunately, they just made me feel light-headed.

  There was a tap on the door, and Elsie entered.

  “Captain Wednesday-Croft,” she announced, standing aside to let him pass.

  “Good morning, Captain,” I said coolly.

  “Daffy.” He gazed down at me. I heard Elsie close the door quietly. “How are you?”

  “I’m well, thank you, apart from – you know.” I gestured at my leg.

  “Of course. I was so sorry to hear—”

  I didn’t want to hear how sorry he was, so I interrupted. “Do sit down.”

  “Thank you. Did you receive my letters?” he asked. “Yes, I did.”

  He shuffled his feet. “You didn’t answer them.”

  I stroked Billie’s head and said nothing.

  “He’s a fine dog.” Charles watched Billie for a few moments, then looke
d up. “Daffy, I’ve had the devil of a job finding you. The FANY women wouldn’t give me your address. They said if I wrote care of their office in Earl’s Court Road, my letters would be forwarded.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I said, “Yes, they’re very efficient.”

  “But you didn’t reply, so I thought perhaps the FANY people had ditched them. Now that I know you received them, I don’t know what to say.”

  That made two of us, but I’ve always believed honesty is the best policy. I took a deep breath and said, “I didn’t reply to your letters, because it would not have been appropriate to do so.” I quite surprised myself when I said that – I sounded just like Lady Baguley!

  “Not appropriate?” he said. “Daffy, you surely know that I care for you. I care deeply for you. And I’d begun to hope that you cared for me, too.”

  It was too much. I sat bolt upright. “How can I care for you?” I burst out. “And how dare you say you care for me when you already love someone else?”

  “Someone else!” He leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your wife,” I snapped. “Or your fiancée, or sweetheart or whatever she is!” I felt a moment’s uneasiness when I saw how bewildered he looked.

  “She?” he said. “Who the devil are you talking about?”

  “Mabel! That’s who! I apologize for reading your postcard, but I did and there it is.” He went to speak, but I carried on. “And I’m glad I did.”

  I sank back on my cushions. Charles, too, sat back.

  “Mabel,” he said. “I see. You read my postcard.”

  I kept quiet.

  Charles felt around in his pocket and brought out a leather wallet. He took a photograph from it, which he held towards me. “Daffy,” he said. “This is Mabel.”

  I turned my head away, but he held the photograph in front of my face so I couldn’t help but look. (I would have done, anyway, because I was curious.)

  What I saw took my breath away.

  “This is Mabel?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “She’s beautiful,” I said. It was true. She was the prettiest little girl I’ve ever seen.

  “She’s eight years old, and she’s my sister,” said Charles.

  As I went to speak he held up a hand. “When she was two, Mabel nearly drowned. There was no one else around but me. I pulled her out of the water and as I fought to bring her back to life, I vowed that if she lived, I would always look after her. We love each other dearly.”

  “Oh.” I truly didn’t know what to say.

  Just then there was a gentle tapping at the door and Mimi came in. She looked apprehensive. I introduced her and she said to Charles, “I heard you were here, Captain. Have you come with news of my son?”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs Rowntree,” said Charles. “I have tried to find out about him, but there’s no news. I’m so sorry. That isn’t what you wanted to hear.”

  Mimi smiled sadly. “So nice to meet you, Captain Wednesday-Croft. If you’ll excuse me, I must get on with my work.” She drifted away.

  “What is this Wednesday-Croft business?” he said.

  I smiled now. “Elsie, my maid. She doesn’t always concentrate. Charles, if the FANY wouldn’t give you my address, how did you find me?”

  “After I left the office on my last visit,” he explained, “a very nice woman followed me and we had a little chat. She decided to give me your address.”

  Aunt Leonora! Oh, bless her!

  24th December

  Charles stayed for lunch and tea that day, and we talked and talked. I asked him what he did before the war. He’s a writer! How exciting, I thought, until he told me he writes textbooks for schools. That must be a little dreary, but he doesn’t seem to think so. He can’t wait to get back to it.

  He asked me what I like to do. I decided to be honest, so I told him I didn’t really like doing all the usual things ladies do, like sewing and embroidery and running a house. “I like riding and swimming,” I said, “and long walks with Billie.” I didn’t mention that I like to sing.

  “I like riding and swimming, too,” he said, “and I’m sure I’d love to go for long walks with your dog.” He hesitated. “And with you.”

  Today Charles came again and we took that walk. Because of my stupid leg we only went as far as the rose garden to look at the topiary bushes, but it was heaven.

  This beastly war has taken my papa, and I must accept that it has taken Archie, too. But it has given me so much. I’ve found that there is more to life than the things I was brought up to do. I have found a group of women who think much as I do – who like the same things as me. I no longer feel like a square peg in a round hole. We are all pegs of very different shapes, and we must all find the hole that fits.

  Mimi will learn to live with her sorrow, I know. She has her work, and it will be her support. Aunt Eloise will, I hope, sell her home on the coast and stay with us. Freddie and May adore her, and she’s much better at running the house than Mimi. (Or me!)

  And now I feel so warm and comfortable. Charles cares for me very much, and oh, I care for him, too. When he slipped his arm around my shoulders as we walked, I leaned on him.

  This, I thought to myself, this is where I belong.

  Historical note

  In the early 1900s, a British soldier had a brilliant idea which would change the lives of many young women who might otherwise never have known adventure or danger.

  Sergeant-Major Edward Charles Baker, a cavalryman, knew that many soldiers who were injured in battle died from lack of help before they could be taken back to base for treatment. Others lay in agony until help arrived. He imagined a corps of nurses on horseback, galloping to give first aid to the wounded. They’d wear scarlet tunics and would ride side-saddle, of course, because of their long skirts.

  Not everyone could join the organization, because the young women had to finance themselves. They paid ten shillings to join, and six shillings a month from then onwards, and they had to supply their own uniform. It wasn’t to be easy for them. They had to qualify as first-aiders and study horsemanship, learn to look after and treat horses, be disciplined, and learn other military skills, such as signalling. Many middle-class and upper-class girls, expecting to get married and live out their lives running a home and raising children, jumped at the chance to do something different.

  Sergeant-Major Baker intended that his troop of young women, the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry, should be ready and waiting for the government to call on in times of war or emergency. And when war did break out in 1914, the FANY, as they were known, offered their services. Being told that as they were women they should “go home and sit still” made no difference to them. The FANY “girls”, as they called themselves, weren’t the type to give up, and if the British didn’t want them, they would simply offer their services elsewhere. The Belgians were very happy to have their help. Eventually, their huge contribution was recognized, and the British were delighted to have the FANY working alongside the fighting forces.

  By the time the war broke out, things had changed. There’d been a huge growth in the motor-car industry, and now it was clear that the FANY would not be galloping anywhere to help. They’d be driving.

  During the war years of 1914–1918, the FANY drove ambulances, ran hospitals, set up canteens, enabled filthy, exhausted soldiers to have the hot bath they must have dreamed of for weeks, and performed countless other tasks such as ferrying soldiers, nurses, German prisoners and even hospital laundry around. They took great pride in doing anything that was asked of them.

  The members of the FANY had a great deal of fun living and working together, but they all threw themselves into whatever task was at hand. They were known for being hardworking – carrying on until they were absolutely exhausted – and for their good humour and courage. Their bravery earned them many medals and decorations from the French and Belgians, as well as the British.

  The Second World War provided plenty of new opportun
ities for the FANY. The organization spread far and wide, and included members from many parts of the world. The old First World War ambulances were replaced with faster – and slightly more comfortable! – vehicles, and even motorbikes. The girls’ talents were recognized and used wherever necessary, often in confidential work and in deciphering codes. Some were employed in highly secret activities by the Special Operations Executive, who were responsible for secret agents sent to France. Some of the best-known of these were Odette Hallowes, Noor Inayat Khan, and Violette Szabo. In spite of being tortured by the enemy, Odette Hallowes survived the war, but many died. These women, like other FANY members, were trained in wireless communications, and their reports were vital to the progress of the war, and to the safety of many individuals.

  Today the FANY has a new name – the Princess Royal’s Volunteer Corps. But it’s known as FANY(PRVC) so the old name hasn’t been lost. The “girls” are still ready and willing in times of emergency. After a horrendous underground train crash, FANY members rushed to help the police with communications. After the sinking of a river boat, the collapse of a tower block – any major disaster – the FANY responds. On 7 July 2005, when several bombs exploded in London within an hour of each other, the FANY were called upon. They responded, working long hours with the city police. After an incident, there may be thousands of calls from anxious people, worried about family or friends. The FANY are trained to staff casualty bureaux, taking a great burden from the police.

  The members of FANY are all still volunteers. Their training continues every week in areas such as first aid, navigation, communications, how to respond to a major emergency, weaponry and – of course – driving.

  Timeline

  1914

  28 June Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, is assassinated. This was the trigger for the First World War.

  28 July Austria-Hungary declares war on Serbia.

  1 Aug Germany declares war on Russia.