‘Roy . . .’ Bernard found his brother polishing his boots. ‘I’ve had a letter from home.’
The brothers were still at training camp and kitted out in what was called ‘Kitchener’s blue’. This was not so much because they were still ‘rookie’ soldiers, but because there was a shortage of khaki uniforms. Reveille at 6 a.m., on parade at seven before breakfast at eight, was no hardship for them. They were, though, getting rather tired of the constant drill, though they were obliged to admit that now they were beginning to look like real soldiers.
Roy looked up to see the single sheet of paper in his brother’s hand.
‘Mam’s written. Harold’s disappeared. He went a while back.’
‘What d’you mean “disappeared”?’
‘He ran away to enlist.’
Roy spat on his boot and scrubbed at it fiercely. ‘That’s all William’s fault. If he hadn’t been such a bloody coward, Harold wouldn’t have been so keen to prove that he wasn’t.’
‘Mm.’ Bernard’s murmur was non-committal.
‘Did they go after him?’
‘Mam tried, but he didn’t enlist in Lincoln. He went to Newark.’
Roy looked up sharply now. ‘He won’t be in the Lincolns, then?’
Bernard shook his head. ‘He’s in the Sherwood Foresters, Mam says.’
‘So, we’re not likely to run into him?’
‘Shouldn’t think so.’
‘Silly little hothead,’ Roy muttered. ‘Why didn’t he give it another year or so? It might all be over by then.’
Astutely, Bernard said, ‘That’s probably exactly why he didn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want to miss the action. He wants to be a war hero.’
‘Don’t we all,’ Roy muttered, rubbing at his boot even harder.
‘I wish now we’d let him join up with us. At least we’d have been able to keep an eye on him. But he’ll be with strangers now.’
The two brothers exchanged a glance.
‘There’s nowt we can do, Bernard. Stuck here just hanging about. Why don’t they send us out there? Surely there’s nowt left for us to learn now. As if a couple of country lads can’t shoot straight.’
‘Aye well, we’ll all have to go together, I expect.’
‘Does Mam say owt else? Does she mention Alice?’
‘Yes, she’s doing fine, but Mam says she doesn’t tell them much in her letters.’
Roy paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I wonder why.’
‘Mebbe it’s because he’s with her.’ Bernard glanced down again at his mother’s letter. There was no mention of William. ‘I expect it’s difficult not to speak of him when they’re working together.’
‘Aye,’ Roy said sarcastically, taking up his boot brush once more. ‘Safely behind the lines and well out of any danger. I tell you one thing, Bernard, if we ever come across William when we do get out there, I’ll shoot him mesen.’
Back at the advanced first-aid post, Giles was still worried.
‘I still think we’re a bit too close. If the enemy should alter the trajectory of their shelling, we might well be in the firing line.’
‘Nonsense, Giles. They’re only trying to hit our trenches. They’re not going to fire beyond them, surely,’ Pips said.
‘They might be trying to take out our supplies as they come up to the line.’
They glanced at the road where lines of horse-drawn carts and motor vehicles were transporting supplies to the front. Shells burst about half a mile away, but none fell near where they’d pitched the first-aid post.
‘I’m sure we’ll be all right here. You have to admit that you’ll be able to treat injuries so much earlier here, won’t you?’
Giles smiled wryly. ‘I can’t deny that. And it will make a difference to their chance of recovery.’
‘There you are, then,’ Pips said triumphantly, but then she smiled and tucked her arm through his. ‘I love you for wanting to take care of us all, but we need to be nearer the wounded. You do agree about that, don’t you?’
‘Wholeheartedly, but I don’t think Dr Hazelwood would want us to put ourselves in danger to do so. We’re no good to anyone then, are we?’
‘True.’ Pips glanced about her again. They watched as the bangs were followed by clouds of smoke rising into the sky.
‘It looks like we’re going to be busy,’ she murmured. ‘I must go with William.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Briefly, he gripped her hand. ‘Do take care, darling. Please.’
‘You drive the ambulance today, William,’ Pips said, early the following morning. ‘I’ll bring the car.’
Hugh and Peter had already set out again. They were helping to bring the wounded to the advanced first-aid post and then taking those who could be moved further, back to Robert.
They headed, in convoy with Pips leading, towards the gunfire and the rising puffs of smoke, the noise of shellfire getting louder as they approached.
‘Oh dear,’ Pips murmured to herself. ‘It looks as if it’s going to be bad.’
She drove the car as near to the system of trenches as she dared, William following her faithfully. Already she could see stretcher bearers congregating in readiness to go into the trenches.
‘Let’s go with them,’ Pips said impulsively, when William joined her.
‘I will, Miss Pips, but I don’t think you should.’
‘Phooey.’ Pips flapped her hand at him and they both dissolved into laughter. Her favourite expression, used so often in her growing years, reminded them of home and of all the years they’d known each other.
He met her gaze and said softly, ‘Never thought we’d find ourselves in a place like this, did we, miss?’
‘No, William, we didn’t, but come on.’
They walked beyond the long-range artillery placements to the reserve trench, then through the network of communication and support trenches until they came to the front line. They arrived in time to see the soldiers standing on the fire step, leaning against the sides of the trench, their rifles at the ready. The officer was walking up and down behind them and, at the back of the trench, stood the stretcher bearers. No one spoke to them; it was as if, by ignoring the very men who would fetch them if they were wounded, the soldiers were denying the fact that they might, in a few minutes, become a casualty.
‘What are you doing here?’ the officer patrolling the trench barked at Pips.
‘Good morning, Captain Allender. We meet again. We’re here to help, if we’re needed.’
‘You should go back, nurse. You can stay’ – he nodded at William – ‘but I’d be obliged . . .’
Further down the line, a whistle sounded and the captain turned away sharply, shouted to his men, and then blew his own whistle. Immediately the trench was alive with activity. The men clambered up the side and went over the parapet. At once, the sound of gunfire was all around them and bullets pinged into the walls of the trench.
‘In here . . .’ George Allender grabbed Pips’s arm and pulled her into a dugout. ‘Stay there . . .’ And then he was gone, over the top after his men.
The stretcher bearers now mounted the fire step and peered cautiously over the edge. The sound of gunfire died away a little.
‘There’s several down already,’ one murmured.
‘Give it a few minutes till our lads get a bit further in, then we’ll go.’
It seemed an age before the word was given and the men lifted their stretchers up and over the side and then climbed up too. William went with them.
‘You stay here, Miss Pips.’
Though she longed to follow, she knew there was no point in deliberately disobeying the captain’s orders. She didn’t want to add to his worries.
It was only a few minutes, though, before the first casualty was carried back into the trench and she had work to do.
‘Didn’t even get to the bloody wire,’ the man said, ‘before I was hit in the knee.’
The two men carrying him set him down in the bottom of the trench and climbed back out.
‘Let’s see what I can do,’ Pips said, squatting down beside him and opening her medical bag.
‘Lord, I thought I was seeing things, nurse. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven and you was an angel.’
‘No angel, I assure you. Now let’s look at that knee.’ She dressed his wound, which was still clean.
‘It’s missed your kneecap, thank goodness, though I think it’s shattered your tibia just below the knee.’
‘It bloody well hurts, nurse. Sorry for the language.’
‘Don’t think about it. I’ve heard far worse since I’ve been out here, I can assure you. Now, if you can stand and lean on me, we might be able to get you back to the car we’ve got waiting just behind your reserve trench.
He gaped at her. ‘Have you come in front of our long-range artillery, nurse?’
‘I expect so. I did see a few big guns, but they’re trained on the enemy, surely.’
‘Well, yes, but I didn’t think you’d’ve been allowed to come that close.’
She chuckled. ‘We didn’t ask permission, soldier. We just came.’
‘Well, bugger me. You’re a brave lass and no mistake. Sorry for the language.’
‘Please don’t apologize any more. It’s water off a duck’s back. Now, what’s your name?’
‘Hawkins, nurse.’
She was just about to hoist him onto his one good foot and have him lean on her, when two more casualties arrived, one yelling in dreadful pain. Again they were set on the floor of the trench.
‘Sorry, I can’t leave now,’ she said to her first patient. ‘Look, let’s get you into that dugout. You sit there and don’t get that dressing dirty, whatever you do.’
With him in comparative safety, Pips tended the other two, but soon she was overwhelmed with more and more arriving every minute.
After about half an hour, the floor of the trench, as far as she could see to the first corner, was covered with wounded men sitting or lying and she suspected that there’d be more beyond that.
William slithered into the trench, his eyes wild, his cap askew. ‘By heck, miss, it’s hairy out there. The lads said I’d to come back and help you move as many out as we can. I’ve got the stretcher.’
Carefully, he reached up and pulled the stretcher down into the trench, just as a bullet hit the ground close to him, showering earth into his face.
‘Keep down, Miss Pips, for God’s sake, keep down.’