I was asked about my skills. Apart from being a fairly good bandage-roller, I couldn’t think of anything. I’m sure they wouldn’t be interested in my lumpy embroidery. I said that of course I can ride, and they nodded, and then I remembered…
“I can drive a motor car,” I said.
Didn’t that make them sit up! I wonder why. Perhaps I should find out a little more about the FANY. I’ll ask Aunt Leonora tomorrow. They told me to do that, actually. A stern woman with badges, and stripes on her sleeves, said, “Miss Rowntree, thank you very much for coming and for your interest in the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry. May I suggest you have a proper discussion with Armstrong and make absolutely sure you want to join us.”
For a moment I wondered who on earth Armstrong was, then I remembered. It’s Uncle Cecil and Aunt Leonora’s name!
I’m reasonably sure this is what I want to do, but tomorrow, first thing, I will have that discussion with Aunt Leonora. Oh, gosh! Will I soon have to call her Armstrong? How odd!
17th May
I started the proper discussion straight after breakfast. Aunt Leonora’s contribution was simply to flap an arm in the air and say, “Don’t worry about it, darling. You’ll love it!” Then she dumped her napkin on the table, pushed her chair back and left the room.
Well, that’s all right then.
23rd May
Aunt Eloise is so grateful, she says, to be staying with us. A whole load of German bombers attacked London on Wednesday. It was too dark for them to see much, so they dropped their bombs east of the city and killed about a hundred Canadian soldiers at a military base. Canada has been with us since the start of the war, and those poor souls were probably expecting to be sent to the front soon. They must have thought they were safe till then. How frightening, when the enemy might come at you across the land, from beneath the sea or from the sky.
1st June
Before the war, new recruits to the FANY went to a sort of camp. That sounds the most ripping fun! It was there that they did their first-aid course and learned to make their beds and to follow orders. But now there isn’t time. My first-aid course took three afternoons, and I was taught by members of the British Red Cross Society.
It was quite straightforward and I sort of passed. There wasn’t any blood or anything, but I felt quite queasy bandaging a collarbone. When you look in the mirror you can practically see your collarbone, and the thought of it breaking made me feel sick. And I didn’t like the idea of hooking false teeth out of unconscious people’s mouths. Ugh.
The instructor said she was thankful I wasn’t thinking of going into nursing, but my bandaging was good and they felt I had common sense and would remain calm in a crisis. I’ll say so. You should have seen how calm I was when Billie had a fight with a nasty vicious dog. I simply turned my back until they’d finished. To be truthful, I couldn’t bear to look, but Billie was fine. He won. He always does.
Anyway, it’s driving next. I’ll show them!
8th June
Oh dear. My driving course hasn’t gone quite as well as I’d expected. First of all, I had to start the wretched thing. I’ve never started a car before. Archie or Hawkins or someone always did it for me.
You stick the starting handle in a hole in the front of the motor car, then turn like mad, and that gets the engine going. It’s jolly difficult. I don’t know why they wanted me to do it, when there were so many mechanics standing around idle. Anyway, you turn and turn and eventually the car starts. Then you get in the driving seat and off you go.
Indeed, off I went. That was wrong, because I was supposed to wait for the instructor. He was a British Red Cross Society man and when he caught up, he was very stiff and starchy.
“Listen to me, Miss,” he said. “I’m in charge here, and you do as I tell you. That’s the rule, and it’s to keep us all safe. D’you understand, Miss?”
I apologized, and was a perfect angel for the rest of the drive. I do think I surprised him with my ability, because the only orders he gave me after that were, “Not so fast, Miss,” or “Not so close, Miss,” or “Watch out, Miss.”
Afterwards, he said I drove too fast (“It’s not a race, Miss!”) but I’m a jolly good driver for a woman, which really cheered me. I came away feeling cock-a-hoop.
13th June
I’ve finished my driving course, and took my test today. If I say so myself, I did jolly well, and passed with flying colours. The only words the tester spoke the whole time (apart from telling me which way to go and so forth) were, “I say, steady on, Miss.”
I’m going home in the morning, then when the reports on my first-aid and driving courses come through, I’ll go to Gamage’s to buy my uniform, and become a real FANY. How thrilling this is!
14th June
Archie. My darling brother.
Oh, I never thought to know such misery and confusion. I was so happy and excited when I came home. I should have known something terrible had happened when Hawkins met me at the station and barely spoke. I assumed he was in a foul mood because Gulliver had bitten him or butted him or something.
Mimi and Aunt Eloise were in the drawing room, both with swollen, red-rimmed eyes. Mrs Hallibert hovered with cups of tea and just looked at me, unable to speak, before leaving the room.
“What is it?” I cried as I knelt in front of my mother. “Mimi, what’s happened? Are you ill?”
She shook her head. “Oh, Daffy darling, it’s … it’s…” She kept gulping, and seemed unable to speak.
I turned to Aunt Eloise.
“Daffy dear,” she said, “it’s Archie, but you—”
I didn’t hear any more, just a long wail, and the wail was coming from me. “No!” I leapt up. “No!”
“Daffy!” Aunt Eloise gripped my shoulders. “Pull yourself together, dear. It’s not the worst.”
I took a deep breath. “Not…? Not the worst?”
“No, dear. Archie is missing. That’s all we know. Now, go to your mother, and I’ll ring for more tea. We must be hopeful.”
I looked down at Mimi. She rocked back and forth, hugging her knees. At first I thought she was humming, but she wasn’t. It was just the sound of her agony.
15th June
Such dreadful news about another big attack on London – in daylight – by German bombers. Over a hundred poor souls dead, and hundreds more wounded. And the aeroplanes all got away.
So many people have to endure so much sadness.
I am doing my best to be hopeful about our own sadness. Archie will return. He’s probably had a bump on the head and lost his memory and wandered off. Someone will find him, and he’ll have something on him that will tell them who he is, and they’ll look after him, and write to us to say he’s safe. And then he’ll come home. I know he will.
No I don’t.
Later
Poor Freddie and May. Miss Rowan is doing her best to comfort them.
17th June
We are all doing our best. The children are having lessons as normal. The servants are going about their business as usual, but Elsie is being the most useless maid imaginable at the moment. She is upset, too, so I cannot get cross with her.
Mimi stayed in bed this morning, so I took Aunt Eloise out for a ride. She warned me that she’s not a horsewoman, and she’s right. Hawkins saddled our kindly old mare, and put her on a lead rein, which I held.
It was a pleasant, gentle ride, if slow, and we talked non-stop. Eventually, we got off the subject of poor Archie and were commenting on the various wild flowers we spotted. It was almost fun.
What poor Aunt Eloise must have thought when I suddenly cried out, “Firebrand!” I cannot imagine. I swung Honeycomb’s head round and turned for home, urging her into a gallop. Mercifully, I dropped the lead rein, otherwise I should think poor Aunt Eloise would have gone flying. As it was, it was a relief that the old mare remembered her way home, since Aunt Eloise was too shaken to find it by herself.
I galloped into the yard and leapt off Hon
eycomb without waiting for help. Hawkins came running out of the tack room. “Miss Daphne? What is it?”
“Firebrand,” I sobbed. “My brother’s horse must be missing, too.”
Oh, the poor creature. Lost in France, or Belgium, or wherever they are. He must be so bewildered without someone to love him and take care of him.
Hawkins pressed his lips together for a moment before he spoke. “I like to believe, Miss Daphne, that wherever Mr Archie is, Firebrand is too.”
Bless him. That was such a comfort. Of course they might be lost together. Oh, how I wish Firebrand could bring Archie home the way the old mare brought Aunt Eloise.
18th June
Violet Wetherby called today. Mimi asked her to stay for dinner and overnight. We were very informal this evening, as Violet hadn’t brought anything to change into. She’ll be gone in the morning, and I’m glad of that, as I only want to be with my family.
Violet, however, is reacting almost as if she were family. She’s terribly distressed about Archie, and I can only like her for that. So I have been very tolerant and kind, and lent her a nightgown of my own and toiletries. But I will be glad when morning comes.
20th June
Uncle Cecil has promised Mimi he will do all he can to find out about Archie. He says they keep excellent records “over there” so if there is good news, it will reach us.
Honestly, how hard can it be to find someone? It’s not as if Archie was there one minute and gone the next. That just isn’t possible.
I have been given an appointment for my second interview at FANY headquarters – they call it “HQ” – but I have written to say that I cannot attend, due to circumstances beyond my control. That’s a phrase Aunt Eloise suggested. I’m sure if they care enough to know exactly what circumstances, Aunt Leonora will fill them in.
23rd June
Terrible news. We have heard from one of Archie’s fellow-cavalrymen that Firebrand is dead. He had two badly damaged legs, and was shot at close range, so the belief is that someone must have put the poor creature out of his misery. Was that Archie? Where is Archie? My eyes keep filling with tears and I cannot see to write any more.
24th June
I’ve had such a kind letter from the FANY office, sending their sympathy for my present difficulties, and saying they look forward to hearing further from me when circumstances permit. I can’t imagine ever going there again.
28th June
There is still no news, but I will not give up hope. We have had just about all our relations to visit. Some are like us, still hoping for good news, but others are clearly trying to prepare us for the worst. They mean well, but I just know that Archie’s out there, somewhere, alive.
Poor Mimi looks so sad. She has buried herself in her painting, and only emerges at mealtimes. Even then, I’ve had to send Elsie to fetch her more than once.
This evening, I reached across the dining table and laid a hand on hers. “How are you feeling, Mimi? Have you had a better day today?”
She took my hands between hers and said, “Don’t worry about me, Daffy, darling. I’m perfectly well. Everyone’s been so sweet.”
“They have, haven’t they?” I said.
“Mmm,” she replied, as her soup was served. “Lalu and Polan have been particularly kind and consoling. I don’t know what I would do without them.”
Sometimes I wish I had a couple of fairies to make me feel better.
29th June
Mimi goes to the woods a lot. She’s had many letters of consolation, and some people insist that Archie will return. There’s even a letter from a clairvoyant – a friend of Mrs Hallibert’s second cousin – who insists that she has seen the future. Archie will return, but he will be much changed. This sort of thing keeps Mimi going.
Me? I just wish I could go and look for him. Is anybody looking for him?
30th June
Today, Mimi asked me about the FANY.
“You should see about joining your little organization, Daffy darling,” she said. “It would be good for you to do something useful. I know you roll your bandages, but—”
Goodness! That made me feel guilty.
“—but I’m sure it’s not enough for you. You’re an intelligent young woman.”
Yes, I am, but I’m a horrible, careless, forgetful one. I haven’t been bandage-rolling for ages. I will stop feeling sorry for myself and do something to help others.
4th July
I had forgotten how dreary bandage-rolling is. Thank heavens for a bit of light relief when we had a visit from one of the girls who went to work in the munitions factory. Her hand is heavily bandaged, but she’s doing her best to keep cheerful.
“I was putting detonators in shells, like, to make them explode,” she said. “I had to make a space in the shell, what was deep enough to hold the detonator, and I had to hit this metal spike thing with a big mallet. Only I missed the blinking spike and got two fingers and a thumb instead.”
Oouch. But she was better off than her friend, who fell off a ladder and broke her whole arm!
Actually, it’s odd to think that if I’d been there, I might have been able to help – I’m trained in first aid!
That evening I mentioned the FANY again to Mimi and Aunt Eloise.
Mimi smiled. “You join your FANY, Daffy darling. I know you feel the need to do something.”
“But it would mean me going away,” I said. “I expect I’d have to live in London for a while. Eaton Square, or maybe with Aunt Leonora.”
“That’s all right, darling,” Mimi said. “I’ll be fine. I won’t be alone.”
I smiled. “Of course, you’ll have Aunt Eloise.”
Mimi glanced up. “What? Oh yes, and Aunt Eloise, of course.”
Those damn fairies.
7th July
I wrote to Aunt Leonora two days ago and have had a reply already. I’m to come to London and get myself sorted!
9th July
Aunt Leonora is a sweetie. She’s very encouraging and thinks I should get going and join the FANY at once. “You’re of good character,” she said yesterday, at lunch. “You’re marvellous at all sorts of physical things, and you don’t give up easily.” She hesitated. “Do you?”
I shook my head rapidly. I don’t give up easily, really – it’s just that I don’t always get started.
“Then you’ll be perfect. We’ll go back to Earl’s Court Road this very afternoon.”
“I don’t have an appointment,” I said.
“Yes you have. I made one for you. Just in case.”
And so we did. Two of the officer women were there before and remembered me.
“We knew you’d be back,” said one.
“Yes,” said the other. “You can always tell a girl with backbone.”
My driving report was in and they said that apart from a tendency to recklessness, I am basically cool, calm, and competent behind the wheel, and that is where they see my future. As a driver!
My first-aid report said I take tuition well, but must try not to let my emotional nature get the better of my practical side. That’s probably because I kept going, “Oh, ugh, I couldn’t do that,” and making being-sick noises.
“We’ll call that a pass,” said the chief interviewer, with a twinkle in her eye. “There’ll be plenty of nurses where you’re going, so let’s hope your first-aid, um, skills won’t be needed!”
So, the upshot is that I’m in. I’ve paid my dues and I’m a member of FANY! Tomorrow we go to Gamage’s to buy my uniform, and then Bobby’s going to take me to a photographer friend of hers, to have my photograph taken in my uniform.
I wonder where they’ll send me. Obviously near a hospital.
10th July
I loved Gamage’s. We had an appointment with a fitter, and until then we wandered round looking at all the different things you can buy. I think if I lived in London my allowance would be gone in a week!
I adore my uniform. The skirt is quite short, just ten inches
from the ground is the rule, and there’s a lovely hat. It’s soft, and divided into four quarters that are gathered together on to a band with a badge on it! The badge of the FANY is a Maltese cross in a circle, and is very bold and easily recognized. I shall feel like somebody who matters when I wear my uniform (which I did as soon as we got back to Aunt Leonora’s). I don’t have the badges and things yet, but Aunt Leonora’s going to hang on to the uniform and get it all sorted ready for next week when I report for duty.
Actually, I wasn’t sorry to take the tunic off. It’s frightfully itchy. I shall have to speak to Elsie about some nice silky underwear.
13th July
I have resigned from the bandage-rollers, written notes to anyone I think might like to know that I’ve gone, and am moving to Aunt Leonora’s tomorrow. I am sad to say goodbye to Mimi and Aunt Eloise, and very sad to say goodbye to Billie and Honeycomb and even Gulliver. Aunt Eloise has promised to be especially kind to Billie, and will let him sleep at her door, as he does at mine.
Mimi has come over all anxious again, because I am to be attached to the FANY office for the time being, on driving duties!
“Do be careful driving in London, Daffy darling,” she said. “It’s probably very dangerous. Watch out for the horses and the omnibuses.”
On driving duties! How exciting!
A note was delivered this evening by a footman from Great Oaks. At first I thought it was from Elizabeth Baguley, but then realized that was most unlikely. She won’t miss me. No, it was from Reggie, saying he’s so sorry I’m leaving, and would love to see me in London. Isn’t that nice? But I shall be far too busy.
14th July
I left this morning in absolute floods of tears, swearing to take great care of myself, and behaving not at all like a member of a wartime organization. Snap out of it, Daffy!
19th July
Driving duties are deadly dull. The only excitement is when an aeroplane goes over and everyone runs for cover. This has a bad effect on my nerves.
Road to War Page 5