The sound of shelling disturbed their sleep for several nights.
‘They mean to obliterate Ypres,’ William mourned. ‘How can they destroy such beautiful buildings?’
On 22 November there was more bad news.
Hugh, Peter and William visited the town yet again and returned to the post with solemn faces.
‘That delightful town,’ Hugh’s voice was unsteady. ‘It’s in ruins and Cloth Hall is on fire. They can’t save it.’
‘It’s just a heap of rubble now,’ Peter added. ‘I really don’t know what was so important about it that both sides want to hold this particular town.’
‘To my mind, it’d make more sense to straighten out the front line,’ Robert said, ‘perhaps along the route of the canal, but then I’m not a military man.’
‘I expect’, Pips said reasonably, ‘we don’t want to give up so much as an inch to the enemy. After all, it’s been hard won over these last few weeks. Didn’t you say it holds the key to the coastal ports? I’ll have to ask George what he thinks.’
‘Ours not to reason why . . .’ William began to quote and then faltered, but they all knew the next line. And many had certainly died in the effort to keep Ypres in Allied hands.
Two days later, the battle for the town was deemed to be at an end, but it was still in Allied hands. There had been a high number of casualties on both sides, but now, with the onset of harsh winter weather, both sides dug in deep and prepared to sit it out and wait for spring. There were no plans for any offensives before the weather improved, which wasn’t likely until the following year.
‘We’re still needed here through the winter, though,’ Robert said. ‘Disease and trench foot will rise dramatically and many, because of poor nutrition, will get ill.’
‘And no doubt snipers will still take pot shots at our trenches when they see movement,’ Pips said wryly. ‘And if they get too bored, they’ll likely send a few shells our way.’
In an effort to raise their spirits, Robert said, ‘But we could take some leave in turn. I’ll draw up a rota.’
‘I don’t want to go away over Christmas,’ Pips said promptly. ‘I want to go to the trenches and give out presents.’
Two days later, she called the other members of the unit together. ‘Just look at all these parcels my mother has sent.’
They gazed around in awe at the piles of boxes and parcels stacked in Pips’s tent. She’d had to push the camp beds where she and Alice slept close together to accommodate all the gifts.
‘I’ve had word’, Robert said, ‘that Dr Hazelwood will be paying us a visit just before Christmas and will bring more supplies and gifts for the troops.’
‘I’m not surprised. I expect he wants to check up on us,’ Pips said reasonably.
‘Well, yes, but I gather he’s put together another unit that will be coming out and he’ll want to get them settled like he did us.’
‘Will they be here with us?’
Robert shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. There are a few pockets of fighting still going on – albeit half-heartedly – and he’ll place them where he thinks they’ll be of most use.’
‘Do you think all hostilities will cease at least for Christmas Day?’ Alice asked. ‘I mean, aren’t the Germans supposed to love the festivities as much as we do? Wasn’t it Prince Albert who brought the idea of Christmas trees to Britain?’
‘He generally gets the credit,’ Giles laughed, ‘but I read somewhere that it was the German wife of George the Third, Queen Charlotte, who first brought the idea to this country way back in the early 1800s. But the tradition certainly came from Germany, so let’s hope they revere the day as much as we do.’
‘It’d be nice if they did, but anyway, we’ll have to distribute all these parcels and not only amongst the wounded. We ought to get some to the trenches. That’s where they’ll be the most welcome.’
‘We’ll load them into the motor ambulance and the car,’ William suggested, ‘and take them as far as the reserve trenches.’
‘We’ll go on Christmas Eve. It’ll be a nice surprise for the lads at the front.’
Dr Hazelwood arrived on 19 December. There were still casualties arriving, but not as many as when a major battle was in progress.
‘As I suspected would happen,’ Robert said, as he took the doctor on a tour of the tented first-aid post, ‘at the moment our patients are mainly those with trench foot or frostbite or illness of some kind.’
Dr Hazelwood nodded his agreement. ‘You’re doing a grand job here. I hope the unit I’ve just brought out here does as well. And I understand you’re going to take parcels to the trenches on Christmas Eve. I’d like to go with you. I’ve brought a carload of more gifts from home. Mrs Parrott’s sterling work in fund-raising is reaping its rewards.’
‘Mrs Parrott isn’t here at the post. She’s in Poperinghe just now. She will come with us if we all move, of course, but we’ll always ensure that she’s billeted in the nearest village or town in what we hope is comparative safety. But she visits us often, usually about once a week, to see what we need. She’s marvellous at organizing and obtaining supplies for us. I don’t know how she does it.’
‘She has built up an excellent line of communication stretching back to England, where she has a network of fund-raisers beavering away for her. I believe your mother is one of her contacts.’
Robert smiled. ‘I’m delighted to hear it. Mother started fund-raising and organizing a local knitting circle the moment war was declared. She’ll be in her element.’
‘Now we’re alone, Robert, there’s something I must tell you, but I’m going to leave you to break the news to Giles.’
Minutes later, a solemn-faced Robert sought out his friend. ‘Giles, old chap,’ Robert began, ‘there’s something you ought to know. Dr Hazelwood has brought news from home. Scarborough has been bombarded. It happened last Wednesday.’
Giles stared at Robert. ‘I don’t understand. What d’you mean, “bombarded”? D’you mean bombed from an aircraft or a Zeppelin?’
Robert shook his head. ‘No, from German ships out at sea.’
Giles’s mouth dropped open. ‘From – from the sea?’
Robert nodded. ‘Evidently, one or two ships engaged with the fortress at West Hartlepool, whilst a cruiser attacked Scarborough and then Whitby on its return journey. They had two cracks at Scarborough. The first hit the foreshore and the esplanade and the second hit targets further inland in the town.’
Giles sat down suddenly. ‘You don’t know exactly where, though?’
‘No, sorry. But Dr Hazelwood brought this for you to see.’ Robert handed him a national newspaper dated the day after the incident. ‘It might give you more details.’ On the front page there were pictures of the devastation and, on the inside pages, accounts given by various residents of what had happened to them.
‘It says here two battle cruisers and one armoured cruiser took part.’ Giles paused as he scanned the words and absorbed the photographs. ‘The lighthouse has been hit,’ he murmured, pointing at a picture. ‘And that house in Lonsdale Road that’s been damaged – I know it.’
‘It’s not near where you live, is it?’
Giles shook his head. ‘But I do wonder if my parents are all right.’ He looked up suddenly. ‘There have been several fatalities. That’s not what you’re trying to tell me, is it? That you think they might have been killed?’
‘No, no,’ Robert said swiftly. ‘How could I? I don’t even know exactly where they live. You’ve only ever told us that they live in Scarborough. But if you want to go home, we’d all understand.’
For a moment, Giles hesitated. ‘I can’t leave. I’m the only surgeon attached to this unit. I’m needed here.’
‘Dr Hazelwood has said he will organize a replacement if you want to visit your parents. He tried to find out if they were all right, but he didn’t know their address. He did ask the authorities if they had the name “Kendall” on their casualty list, but they confirmed that they hadn’t. Nor was there any record of anyone of that name being in hospital. But it still doesn’t confirm that they’re unharmed, Giles. You know, not for definite.’
Giles shook his head adamantly. ‘No, I’ll stay here. They wouldn’t expect me to rush home.’
‘Then we must try to get further news. I’ll ask Captain Allender – I think he’s still in the area – if he can find out anything through his channels of communication . . .’
‘No,’ Giles said harshly. ‘I don’t want to be indebted to that man.’
Robert stared at him for a moment, and then understanding began to filter into his mind. Giles was jealous of Captain Allender where Pips was concerned. Maybe that was the real reason he didn’t want to leave. Robert turned away and, for the first time since he had become friends with him, he was disgusted at Giles.
Did he really have so little trust in Pips that he was refusing to take compassionate leave to find out if his parents were unhurt in what must have been a dreadful shock for his home town? And did he also care so little for them?
Three days later, Giles received a letter. ‘They’re all right,’ he told Robert.
‘I’m glad,’ Robert said, but his tone was stiff.
‘Their house was untouched but eighteen people died as a result of the attack – some immediately, others later of their wounds.’
‘Anyone you knew?’ Robert’s tone softened a little. Perhaps Giles had been right not to go after all, though Robert was sure that in the same circumstances, he would have rushed home.
‘Father doesn’t say. I expect he doesn’t know all the names yet. The whole town’s in a state of shock, though, and fearful that it will happen again.’
‘What about Whitby?’
‘There were a few killed there, but not as many.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to take leave?’ Robert asked again. ‘We could manage somehow. The surgical cases could be taken further on to the nearest casualty-clearing station.’
Giles shook his head as he folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket. ‘No, my father says it would serve no useful purpose and, besides, he knows I’m needed here.’
‘I can’t deny that,’ Robert sighed as he saw William’s ambulance approaching. No doubt there would be several patients needing their attention.