Leonora1 - Daughters of War

by Hilary Green

  ‘I’m sure Leonora always behaves with the utmost propriety,’ Tom said, taking her hand. Little do you know, she felt like muttering.

  ‘Lieutenant Malham Brown,’ Lady Stevenage interrupted, ‘you are a military man. What do you think? Is there going to be a war with Germany?’

  Ralph turned to her and drew up a chair and Leo’s desire to kick him grew stronger. Anybody would think he was a general, or at least privy to the highest military secrets, from the way he behaved! ‘I’m afraid, Lady Stevenage, that it begins to look as though we may have to teach the Kaiser a lesson. But don’t disturb yourself unduly. It will be a short, sharp affair and as long as we have the Royal Navy you need have no fear of an invasion.’

  ‘What about these rumours of trouble in the Balkans. Should we be concerned about that?’

  ‘Just a little local difficulty. Nothing that will affect us.’

  ‘I think you are wrong there,’ Leonora said. ‘If fighting starts there it could spread right across Europe.’

  They all looked at her as if the chair she sat on had suddenly found a voice. Ralph raised his eyebrows. ‘And why should that be? If the Bulgars and the Serbs are foolish enough to take on the might of the Ottoman Empire, I don’t see why we should allow ourselves to become embroiled.’

  ‘Because they are small countries that have lived under Turkish domination for centuries and they deserve our support.’ Leo ignored her grandmother’s disapproving looks. ‘And because Austria-Hungary won’t stand by and do nothing.’

  ‘Leonora!’ Her grandmother’s voice cut across Ralph’s response. ‘These are military matters and best left to those who understand them. Lady Stevenage, can I offer you another cup of tea?’

  Leonora lapsed into silence, glaring at Ralph, but then she caught Tom’s eye and thought she saw the flicker of a smile.

  Leonora woke the next morning with a sense of pleasurable anticipation and for a few moments she could not remember why. Then it came to her. She was meeting Victoria Langford for tea that afternoon. For some reason she could not explain their brief encounter the previous day had sparked a sense of new possibilities. If nothing more, the meeting offered a respite from the boredom of her normal routine. It meant telling her grandmother another white lie, of course. She would want to know all about Victoria, who her family were and so on, before she would countenance any kind of relationship. But it was not a problem. Grandmother was used to the idea that Leo always escaped for a walk in the afternoon and had come to accept it as preferable to the caged tiger that she became if confined to the house.

  As she stepped down from the hansom cab outside the colonnaded façade of the Grosvenor Hotel in Park Lane she was aware of a commotion ahead of her. A yellow motor car was forcing its way through the throng of horse-drawn vehicles, in the face of angry shouts and skittering hooves. It drew up outside the hotel and there were gasps from the onlookers as the driver stepped out and was seen to be a woman. It took Leo a moment to realize that it was Victoria.

  Her new friend saw her and crossed the pavement to take her hand. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. I was afraid you might have changed your mind.’

  ‘Oh no, no!’ Leo replied breathlessly, adding before she could stop herself, ‘You can drive!’

  ‘Obviously,’ Victoria said with a laugh. ‘Shall we go in?’

  It was apparent from the doorman’s manner that Victoria was a regular and valued guest and a pageboy was dispatched to keep an eye on the car, which was now surrounded by a small crowd of curious passers-by. When they were settled in a deep sofa in the Park Room, with its long windows overlooking the park, and Victoria had ordered tea, Leonora said, ‘How did you learn to drive?’

  ‘My father taught me, years ago. He was passionate about motor cars. Making them and driving them. He could see that they were the future. One day, he used to say, there will be more cars than horses on the streets of London.’

  ‘You speak of him in the past tense.’

  ‘Yes. He was killed three years ago – an accident on the racetrack.’

  ‘How tragic!’

  Victoria paused, her head slightly tilted. ‘I don’t know. He died doing the thing he loved. He would have preferred that to a feeble old age.’

  ‘And it hasn’t put you off motor cars?’

  ‘Good heavens, no! I love driving. It’s the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever experienced. I’ve raced myself, once or twice.’

  ‘You’ve driven in motor races!’

  ‘I was third in the Ladies Bracelet Handicap at Brooklands last year.’

  ‘How thrilling!’

  The waiter brought tea in silver pots, with a plate of delicate sandwiches and a cake-stand full of exquisite pastries. Victoria poured.

  ‘What about you?’ she asked, handing Leonora a cup. ‘What does your father do?’

  ‘Strangely enough, he is dead, too. But he was a scholar and a great traveller. Archaeology was his great passion.’

  ‘How fascinating! And your mother – does she share that passion?’

  ‘I don’t remember her. She died soon after I was born.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but it is a strange coincidence. My mother died when I was twelve, so we’re both orphans. I felt as soon as we met that we had something in common. Are you an only child?’

  ‘No, I have an older brother, Ralph. What about you?’

  ‘Oh, I’m the only one. My mother used to say one of me was quite enough for her to cope with. It must have made things very difficult for your father, being left with two small children. Who brought you up?’

  ‘He did. He kept us with him until Ralph was twelve. Then he was sent back to school in England, but I stayed with Father until I was fifteen.’

  ‘So you must have seen some marvellous places.’

  ‘Yes, it’s true. One of my earliest memories is of playing in the dirt while my father unearthed treasures from the ruins of Troy.’

  ‘What a wonderful experience. I do envy you. You must miss it now – and him.’

  ‘Oh, I do! I do!’ Leo said, shaking her head sadly.

  ‘So who do you live with now?’

  ‘My grandmother. She has the difficult task of turning me into a lady and finding me a suitable husband.’

  ‘Any prospects?’

  ‘Only one – and I have no intention of marrying him.’

  ‘Good for you!’

  ‘And you? You’re not married.’

  ‘No fear! I’m very fortunate. My father left me well provided for so I have the freedom to do as I please. I’ve no desire to give all that up to become part of some man’s goods and chattels.’

  ‘You are lucky,’ Leo agreed. ‘My father left me money but it’s in trust and I can’t touch it till I’m twenty-one. So for the present I’m completely dependent on Grandmother.’

  ‘No woman should be dependent on a man or a relative for subsistence,’ Victoria pronounced.

  ‘You sound like a suffragette.’

  ‘Well, I sympathize with their objectives. But I don’t agree with their methods.’

  ‘But how else are we ever going to convince the men in government that they have to listen to us?’

  ‘By proving that women can be as rational and clear-headed as any man. That we’re capable of organizing and working together. And above all, that we are as brave and as patriotic as men. That’s why I joined the FANY.’

  ‘The what?’ Leonora queried, wide-eyed.

  ‘It stands for First Aid Nursing Yeomanry.’

  ‘Is that who you were with yesterday?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘What do you do, exactly?’

  Victoria put down her cup. ‘Imagine a battlefield in the aftermath of a battle. The ground is strewn with bodies. Some are dead but many are just wounded, but unable to make their own way back to the lines. Some may bleed to death unless there is someone to staunch their wounds. Now imagine a corps of mounted nurses who gallop onto the battlefield to care for them. How d
oes that picture strike you?’

  Leo laughed. ‘It sounds terribly romantic but I don’t know if it’s practical. Is that what the FANY do?’

  ‘It’s what our founder intended. He was wounded at the battle of Omdurman and saw the need for something of the sort, so when he left the army he set about recruiting young women with a spirit of adventure and that’s how the FANY was born. But you’re right. It is just a romantic idea. If there ever is another war, and it looks all too likely, it won’t be fought on horses but with motor cars and aeroplanes.’

  ‘So the FANY won’t be any use?’

  ‘On the contrary. People trained in first aid will still be needed to bring the wounded from the field of battle to the casualty stations, whether on horseback or in motor vehicles. That will be our opportunity to show that we are worthy of taking an equal part in society with the men.’

  Leonora set down her fork. ‘That makes sense. But will the generals ever let you get near a battlefield?’

  ‘They won’t be able to stop us!’ Victoria declared.

  She beckoned a waiter for the bill and when she had paid they made their way out to where the yellow motor car stood, still encircled by a group of curious small boys.

  ‘What kind of car is it?’ Leo asked.

  ‘A Sunbeam. I call him Sparky.’

  ‘I thought cars were feminine, like ships.’

  ‘Well, this one is definitely male.’

  ‘Is this the one you drove in the race?’

  ‘Goodness, no! This is a tourer, not a racing car. I drove Toodles, the Sunbeam racing model. Can I offer you a lift?’

  Leo caught her breath. ‘Would you really? I’ve never been in a motor car.’

  ‘Good Lord! Why ever not?’

  ‘Grandma thinks they are a creation of the devil.’

  ‘Well, she’ll just have to get used to them. Jump in and I’ll take you for a spin.’

  In a surprisingly short time they were out on the Great West Road and racing along at a speed that took Leonora’s breath away.

  ‘How fast are we going?’ she yelled, clinging to her hat.

  ‘Thirty-five miles an hour,’ Victoria shouted back. ‘And to think that not long ago some fool of a doctor said that the human body would not be able to withstand speeds above thirty!’

  ‘I thought the speed limit was twenty.’

  Victoria flung back her head and laughed. ‘So it is, officially. But who cares?’

  ‘I’ve never travelled as fast as this! It’s thrilling!’

  ‘This is nothing,’ Victoria yelled. ‘I touched fifty-five on the track at Brooklands.’

  After another mile or two she turned the car and they headed back into London. As they drove along Knightsbridge Leo plucked up courage to say, ‘Will you teach me to drive?’

  Victoria looked at her and gave her the mischievous smile that she found so attractive. ‘On one condition. You must join the FANY.’

  ‘Me? Oh, I couldn’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘My grandmother wouldn’t approve.’

  ‘Are you going to let her rule your life until you’re twenty-one? How old are you now?’

  ‘Nineteen.’

  ‘Two more years of being under her thumb – or a chance to strike out for yourself and do something exciting. It’s your choice.’

  Leo drew a deep breath. ‘You’re right. How do I join?’

  Two

  Leo’s next encounter with her grandmother was stormy. When she told her that she intended to join the FANY and explained what the initials stood for the old lady sniffed dismissively. ‘Romantic nonsense!’

  ‘It’s not nonsense!’ Leo retorted sharply. Then she checked herself and took a deep breath. This was exactly the sort of behaviour that gave rise to her grandmother’s accusation of arrogance. ‘I’m sorry, Grandmama. I didn’t intend to be rude. But I think it is a wonderful idea.’

  ‘Young women setting themselves up as some kind of military organization? I can’t think what their parents are thinking of. No one with any breeding would countenance it for a moment.’

  ‘Actually, all the members are gentlewomen. That’s why it’s called a yeomanry. And some of them are married ladies, I believe. One or two of them have titles.’ Leo was struggling to restrain her temper.

  ‘And their husbands permit it! The world is going mad.’

  ‘Why should a woman need her husband’s permission to do anything?’ Leo demanded. ‘It’s so unfair! Anyway, I still think it’s a good idea and I’m going to join.’

  ‘You most certainly will not! I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous.’

  ‘It’s not ridiculous, Grandmother,’ Leo protested. ‘It’s a very respectable organization run by women who only want to serve their country in the event of a war.’

  ‘The best way any woman can serve her country is by doing her duty, which is to stay at home and care for her family,’ Amelia snapped.

  ‘But she may not have a family,’ Leo objected. ‘And anyway, I don’t see that there is anything wrong with learning some first aid. It could be useful wherever she is.’

  ‘That is enough, Leonora,’ was the response. ‘I am not going to discuss the matter any further. You have heard my decision.’

  Leo was about to declare that she intended to join, whatever her grandmother thought, but she checked the impulse. Instead she said, as calmly as she could, ‘Grandmama, I’m not a child any more. Don’t you think it’s time I was allowed to make some decisions for myself?’

  Her grandmother rose to her feet. ‘When you are of age you will be able to ruin your reputation in whatever way you choose. I shall not be able to stop you. Until then, you will do as you are told or I shall pack you off to Cheshire tomorrow. You can stay there until you come to your senses.’

  ‘I won’t go. If you try to make me I shall go and stay with Victoria.’

  ‘Go to your room at once! If you continue to defy me I shall have you locked in.’

  ‘Then I shall open the window and shout for help. Think what a scandal that would make. It might even get into the newspapers.’

  For a long moment they stared at each other in silence. Then Leo said, ‘I don’t want to upset you, Grandmother. But this is something I am really determined to do and I can’t see anything wrong with it. Please don’t let us quarrel.’

  Amelia held her gaze for a few seconds longer, then she turned away. ‘So this is all the gratitude I get for the time and care I have lavished on you. Do as you please. If you want to ruin your reputation I can’t stop you. But I don’t imagine Tom Devenish will approve.’

  Leo was tempted to say that she did not care whether Tom approved or not but she felt that she had won a victory and decided not to push it any further.

  Five days later she presented herself at the offices of the FANY at 83 Lexham Gardens. She was interviewed by a young woman who introduced herself as Sergeant Major Ashley Smith, a tall Scot with a superb figure and a mass of curly brown hair.

  ‘What makes you want to join the FANY?’ she asked.

  Leo, well briefed by Victoria, was prepared for that. ‘I think it is a way of showing that women can be more than just mothers and wives – and it shows that we are ready to serve our country if the need arises.’

  ‘Good.’ Ashley Smith nodded. ‘If you had said that you thought it would be fun, I should have turned you down. You must understand that if you join us you must be prepared for hard work and ready to accept discipline. Are you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Leo said, silently wondering what that would entail. She knew herself well enough to recognize that she was not good at taking orders.

  ‘Can you ride?’

  ‘Oh yes. I’ve ridden all my life.’

  ‘Do you have a horse of your own?’

  ‘Yes, but she’s up in Cheshire, at our country place.’

  ‘In that case you will have to hire a horse here and pay for its upkeep. You will also have to buy your uniform and first-aid kit. Are y
ou in a position to do that?’

  Leo thought a moment. Her father’s will had made provision for a generous allowance until such time as she inherited the money he had put in trust for her, but that was supposed to be spent on clothes and other necessaries. Well, new dresses would have to wait. ‘Yes,’ she said.

  Ashley Smith seemed to find no further impediment to her joining and a few minutes later she paid her enrolment fee of ten shillings and signed the form that officially confirmed her membership.

  From that day on Leo’s horizons, which had contracted so oppressively when she was sent back to England, began to expand again. She attended cavalry drills at the Hounslow barracks run by a sergeant major in the 19th Hussars, where her expertise on horseback quickly earned her the respect of her colleagues. On other days there were training sessions in first aid and stretcher drill, and signalling, both in Morse code and semaphore, and instruction from an army vet in how to care for horses. And fitted in between these were the promised driving lessons from Victoria. From being aimless and boring her life was suddenly full of purpose.

  One afternoon, when she and other recruits were practising bandaging each other, someone mentioned Stobart’s lot. The tone was dismissive but Leo sensed a story.

  ‘Who were Stobart’s lot?’ she asked Victoria.

  ‘Not were, are,’ her friend corrected. ‘Mabel Stobart was a FANY but she decided a couple of years ago that we were never going to achieve anything practical and went off and founded her own outfit – the Women’s Sick and Wounded Convoy. She took a lot of FANY members with her, which is why there’s a certain amount of hostility from the old hands. They’re still going.’

  ‘Were you a member then?’

  ‘I’d just joined. If I hadn’t been so new I think I might have gone with Stobart. She’s an impressive character – very practical and down-to-earth. The sort of woman who gets things done.’

  There was another, more pressing topic of conversation – the forthcoming camp. The corps was to spend a week under canvas outside the town of Bourne End on the River Thames. Her grandmother was horrified at the idea of women going under canvas ‘like common soldiers’ but her attitude to the FANY had mellowed somewhat on discovering that Leo had been telling the truth when she said that there were several titled ladies in their ranks. To Leo’s regret, it was her brother Ralph who remained firmly opposed to her involvement. It hurt her deeply to find that, far from supporting her in her bid for independence, he had joined the forces of convention. As children they had always been close but now she felt she hardly knew him.