Before any plans for a spring offensive could begin, Robert made sure all the members of the team took some leave. William and Brigitta were the last to go. Their friendship was blossoming and he took her hand and said, ‘Where would you like to go? Robert says we can take Dr Maitland’s car.’
Shyly, she said, ‘Could we go to see my grandparents? I have had no recent news and I would like to know if they’re all right.’
‘Of course.’ Then he grinned. ‘As long as you know the way. Apart from going backwards and forwards between our post, the clearing stations and hospitals, I haven’t been anywhere else. You told me it’s somewhere near Poperinghe, but in which direction? You know, we could have gone before now. It can’t be far away.’
She shrugged. ‘I didn’t like to ask, at least not until Dr Robert said we can all take some leave.’
He nodded understandingly.
‘We’d be able to stay with them.’ She blushed prettily. ‘They have two spare rooms.’
‘I wouldn’t expect anything else,’ he said gallantly.
And so, on an unusually beautiful day in early February, William and Brigitta set off to visit her grandparents.
‘Now, where am I heading?’ William smiled at her sitting beside him. Today she was dressed in a smart blue costume and matching hat. Her white blouse was frilled at the neck, framing her face. She was like a beautiful porcelain doll, and just as precious to William. He never ceased to marvel that such a delicate-looking girl could have such physical and inner strength to deal with the terrible sights they all encountered day after day. Whilst he’d admired and adored Pips for as long as he could remember – and he believed he always would – Brigitta was a girl whom he could love and be loved by in return. Dare he begin to hope that even amid all the horror, love could find a way? He’d seen for himself the blossoming romance between Pips and Giles, so why not for him too? She was smiling up at him now, her pink cheeks dimpling prettily.
‘My grandparents have a farm just to the southwest of Poperinghe at a place called Lijssenthoek.’
‘Fancy, I’ve been backwards and forwards to “Pop”, as our soldiers call it, taking the wounded to the casualty-clearing stations there so many times I’ve lost count, and I never knew about your family living so close. I do wish you’d told me before, Brigitta. I’m sure Robert would have let us go.’
‘Poperinghe is used by the Allied military now, being so near the Ypres battlefield. A lot of soldiers are billeted there and, of course, supplies come there by rail. And the troops stay there both before they go to the front and when they come back.’ In a soft voice she added, ‘If they come back.’ In a stronger voice, she went on. ‘So, you see, it’s in an ideal position. Far enough behind the front line so as not to be shelled – at least that’s what we hope – but near enough for the wounded to be taken there and for soldiers to have rest when they are relieved at the front.’
‘The people – the residents – haven’t left, then? They haven’t become refugees?’
‘No. We got a lot of refugees passing through fleeing from the advancing Germans, but Poperinghe’s townsfolk have stayed, though they’re worried, obviously, that the war will end up on their doorstep one day. In the meantime, it’s becoming a sort of haven for everyone – military, wounded, refugees . . .’ She smiled. ‘But we still have cinemas and clubs and cafes open. It’s good for the soldiers to be able to relax.’
‘And your grandparents?’
‘I’ve heard from some of the soldiers that they’re still trying to run the farm as best they can and that they’ve got nurses billeted with them now. But they’ll squeeze us in,’ she added hastily.
William was silent for a few moments before he asked quietly, ‘And what do they think about you nursing so near the front? Wouldn’t they prefer you to stay with them and work locally?’
Brigitta smiled. ‘Perhaps, but they’ve never said so. I’m their only grandchild and, since they brought me up, we’re very close, but all they’ve said to me is that—’ She hesitated and William prompted, ‘Go on.’
‘That they’re very proud of what I’m doing. They’re very patriotic and are horrified by what’s happening to their lovely country.’
‘I can only guess at how it must feel to be occupied by an enemy. Let’s hope Poperinghe continues to enjoy a kind of freedom.’
‘Turn left here,’ Brigitta said suddenly. ‘It’s not far down this road.’
About five minutes later, William was turning the car into a farmyard.
‘There’s Grandpa,’ Brigitta cried, scrambling out of the car and running across the yard, her arms wide.
An old man turned to greet her, enveloping her in his arms and holding her close for several moments before, over her shoulder, his gaze met William’s.
Brigitta released herself from his embrace and shyly introduced William. Mr Dupont held out his gnarled hand and grasped William’s warmly.
‘I am pleased to meet you, William. Please come in and meet my wife.’
Just like Brigitta, her grandparents both spoke English well, but with a strong accent. Mrs Dupont was small and round, like one of her own bread buns, William thought with an inward smile. She bustled about her large kitchen preparing food and drink for them. Husband and wife were both talkative and carried on each other’s sentences so that there was little break in the conversation for either Brigitta or William. They fired questions at them, but never waited for an answer before hurrying on to ask another question. At last they all sat down at the table and Mrs Dupont ordered, ‘Eat, eat, please.’ Then she beamed at William. ‘You are very welcome in our home. Your mother will be thankful that we look after you, yes?’
William smiled weakly and nodded his head in acknowledgement, but made no comment. For the moment, it seemed that the old couple’s questions were exhausted, for they listened to Brigitta telling them about their work, but William noticed that she skirted round the gory details and the many wounded who did not survive. Instead, she concentrated on those they’d helped and who had been transported further down the line either to hospitals nearer the coast or even home to their native countries.
‘And you work together?’ Mrs Dupont asked, glancing between them with her bright blue gaze.
‘William’s a stretcher bearer,’ Brigitta said. She knew all about his home life and what had happened, and she seemed to be trying to steer her grandparents away from asking him too many sensitive questions. He sighed inwardly. If it was necessary, he would tell them the truth. He wanted no secrets between them.
Her grandfather was eyeing William shrewdly. ‘That’s a very dangerous job, young man,’ he said quietly and in the long pause that followed, William took a deep breath. ‘I volunteered to do it.’
‘You have a medical condition that renders you unfit for military service?’
William shook his head. ‘No, sir, I wanted to help save lives, not take them.’
There was a pause before the old man asked quietly, ‘And if you were required to rescue a German soldier, how would you feel about that?’
William faced him squarely, meeting the old man’s gaze steadily. His answer, he felt, would determine any future he might have with Brigitta. He could see the love the old couple had for their granddaughter, and she for them. In that brief moment, William decided that he would not break up their family. If they disapproved of him, then he would never declare his growing fondness for Brigitta.
‘We already have, sir.’ And he went on to explain to the old couple what had happened on Christmas Day. ‘Of course, he had to become our prisoner of war, but he will be treated with humanity, I’m certain of that.’
There was silence in the room, filled with tension. It felt as if each one of them was holding their breath. Then William, almost to his surprise, saw the old man begin to smile as he said softly, ‘As would any one of our boys, I trust, if they were captured by those we must call our enemy. I have great admiration for you, young man. It cannot have been easy for you to take that decision.’
Beside him, Brigitta said nothing, but he could feel her sympathetic gaze on him as he decided the time was right to be completely honest with her family. ‘I come from a family of four boys and one girl. Alice came with the unit. She is out here too, but two of my brothers – the ones that are old enough – volunteered at once for the Lincolnshire regiment. My family do not approve of my decision, Mr Dupont. In fact, they have disowned me.’
‘That is terrible.’ Mrs Dupont wiped her eyes with the corner of her copious apron. ‘They should be proud of you.’
‘The job you’re doing,’ Mr Dupont said slowly, ‘is in some ways far more dangerous than that of a soldier. You go out to pick up the wounded all the time, don’t you, whereas a soldier will only spend so many days at a time in the trenches when his life is truly at risk? No, my boy, you are to be congratulated and honoured, not censured.’
‘It’s kind of you to say so, sir.’ William’s voice was husky. He was overcome with emotion at their kindness and understanding.
‘I don’t approve of war,’ Mr Dupont went on, ‘but it is necessary when an enemy invades your country. We have to fight then, William.’
‘Of course, I understand that. If – if my homeland were invaded, then I know I would feel differently.’
The old man smiled, a little impishly, William thought, as he glanced at his granddaughter and said softly, ‘Perhaps, one day, this country might become your country, eh?’
A little later, two of the nurses billeted with the Duponts arrived home off duty. They were eager to hear all that Brigitta was doing, but they gabbled away so rapidly in their own tongue, that William could understand none of it.
‘They were at school with Brigitta,’ her grandfather explained to him. ‘They have much to say to one another. Come, I will show you around the farm, such as it is now. We manage to scratch a living, but it is not what it once was.’
Having looked around the farm buildings, they stood together, gazing out across the fields. ‘It is very like home,’ William murmured, and he could not keep the wistfulness from his voice.
‘It is flat like this, where you live?’
William nodded. ‘Yes, Lincolnshire in England is mostly flat, though we have the Wolds, but near the sea and to the south of the county, where the fens begin, it is very flat but very fertile.’
There was silence between the two men until Mr Dupont said, ‘You will do your best to watch over our Brigitta, yes?’
William nodded solemnly. ‘I will.’
‘You are growing fond of her?’
‘Yes, sir. I am.’ He turned to look at the old man. ‘You – you don’t mind?’
‘Not at all. I am glad.’ He turned and held out his hand. ‘Come back to us safely – both of you.’
William shook his hand in a warm grasp. It was a promise made, one he prayed he would be able to keep.