Lorimers at War (5 page)

‘Into the army. The Royal Engineers. To go on with my engineering training but be of some use to the country at the same time.'

The shock was so great that Margaret still could not absorb it. She had prepared herself for the parting with
Brinsley but Robert, surely, was only a boy. Lord Glanville came up to stand beside him.

‘Robert discussed this with me at Brinsley's party,' he said. ‘He wanted to be sure that you wouldn't feel yourself alone while he was away. Naturally, I was able to promise that Alexa and I would always be at hand if you needed any kind of support.'

You mean, if Robert is killed, thought Margaret, but it was not a thought which could be put into words, though Robert and Piers must already have faced it. She had to struggle against a panic which closed her throat so that for a moment she was unable to speak.

‘Well, we must think about it,' she said at last, trying to smile; but Robert's serious expression did not change.

‘I went to the recruiting office this morning,' he said. ‘It's done.'

‘Robert, how could you! without even a word?'

‘How could I expect you to debate a decision like that and be forced in the end to say that you agree? It must be easier, surely, for you to accept that it's settled.'

‘You're not twenty-one yet,' she protested. ‘I could –' She checked herself. Whether or not Robert needed his mother's permission to enlist – and she was not sure what the legal position was – he had made a man's decision and she would never be able to treat him like a child again. They could discuss the decision, and if it proved that Margaret still had the power to annul it, she could try to persuade him to change his mind. What she could not do was simply to say No. She was forced to recognize that every mother must face the moment of realizing that her first-born has grown into an adult with a life of his own. But not many mothers were confronted in that moment with a choice which might be literally one of life or death. Was her whole life to consist of partings from the men she loved? Without making any pretence that she approved or even accepted his decision, she kissed Robert to reassure him of her love.

But the unexpectedness of his news had left her confused, almost dizzy. She heard her name called and turned so sharply that she staggered, needing Robert's arm to steady her.

Kate, who must have left the family group while Robert was breaking his news, was running down the platform towards them, her eyes wide with shock. Margaret held her breath and waited to hear what new horrors this day held in store.

Kate had left the family group as Brinsley's train finally disappeared from sight, in order that no one should see how close she was to tears. Sniffling vigorously and rubbing her eyes, she was not at first conscious of her surroundings. When at last she had brought her feelings more or less under control, she was surprised to see a row of ambulances drawing up in the station forecourt. To take her mind off Brinsley she forced herself to be curious and followed the men who hurried from each vehicle as it came to a halt. They led her to the platform furthest from that on which the band had been playing.

The platform was covered with stretchers, and more were still being unloaded from an ambulance train which must have arrived unobtrusively while everyone's attention was on the departing troop train. Kate stared unbelievingly at the rows of men who lay, too weak or too shell-shocked to move, with grey faces and sunken eyes which stared unblinkingly from black sockets. She began to move amongst them, asking questions and occasionally lifting a blanket to inspect the wound it covered. Then, horrified, she ran as fast as she could to find Margaret.

‘Come and see here, Aunt Margaret.' She seized her aunt's hand and tugged her towards the other platform
while the rest of the family, startled, followed more slowly. For a moment the two women, both doctors, stood side by side, taking in the scene in silence. Then Kate led Margaret over to one of the wounded men with whom she had spoken a little earlier.

‘Look at this,' she said quietly to Margaret. She raised the blanket which covered his leg. He was still wearing the khaki trousers of his uniform, covered in mud, and his blood-stained puttees: only the boot had been cut away. ‘It's five days since he was wounded. I asked him. Five days to bring him from the front line to here with only a field dressing. Just look!'

Even in her state of horror Kate had enough tact not to describe what she had recognized. Perhaps the man had not yet realized that he would have to lose a leg. Margaret, staring at the slimy bandage and blackened, gangrenous toes, would not need to be told.

‘Where are you taking them?' Margaret asked one of the ambulance men.

‘Thirty to Charing Cross Hospital,' he said. ‘The rest'll wait here till we find out where there's room.'

The rest of the party came up to join the two women and Kate repeated her indignant reaction to Lord Glanville. But Margaret gestured them to move away from the stretcher area so that they could talk without being overheard.

‘The hospitals must be cleared to make room,' she said. ‘I shall go back at once and stop admissions to my gynaecological ward. Given efficient transport, my patients can perfectly well be cared for in the country. These men need surgeons and skilled nurses, and they need them at once. All the London teaching hospitals ought to make all their beds available to these emergency cases while the crisis lasts.'

Kate, who had only recently qualified as a doctor, had none of her aunt's power to take decisions like this. While the members of the older generation discussed what should be done, she stood back in silence.

Margaret had spoken with the authority of a professional woman and Lord Glanville, even more accustomed to taking decisions at a high level, was considering the situation with equal gravity. Kate knew that he had been personally responsible, fifteen years earlier, for persuading Margaret to leave her country practice and supervise the women students of the hospital of which he was a benefactor and governor. So although he had no medical experience, he was familiar with hospital administration.

‘These men are surgical cases, I take it,' he said to Margaret. ‘They'll need operations without delay and surgical nursing for some time afterwards – and then what? A less intensive standard of nursing for what could be a considerable period while their wounds heal?'

‘If they're lucky, yes,' said Margaret. ‘If they arrive at the operating theatre in time.'

‘And during this healing period they'll be occupying beds which may be needed by the next trainload of wounded, and the next.'

‘But this can't go on indefinitely!' exclaimed Alexa – though like her husband she kept her voice low. ‘Obviously there has been a major battle. Something must have been decided by it. And I understood from the newspapers that the war is almost over, that we are on the point of victory.'

‘The newspapers are telling us what we hope to hear,' said Piers. ‘It was true a few weeks ago that the Germans were in retreat. But when they became too tired to retreat any further they dug trenches to protect themselves for a breathing space and found – as each of the men on this platform has found – that a row of concealed machine guns can be remarkably effective in keeping an army at bay. I suspect that there will be many more injuries of this kind. It seems to me a matter of some urgency that the surgical wards in London should be kept available for acute cases; and that means that convalescent soldiers
must be moved out as fast as emergencies move in. No doubt the hospitals are making their own plans. What I have in mind is a specific proposal.' He turned towards Alexa. ‘Your opera house at Blaize is not due to open for its next season until the summer,' he suggested. ‘It would not take too much reorganization to convert it into a long ward for men who require rest and some care, but not the most skilled nursing. There would be room in the main house for the doctors and nurses to stay. It must be your decision, of course. What do you think?'

‘But rehearsals are due to start –' Alexa's first reaction was a selfish one. Before she could express even a single objection, however, her gaze returned to the rows of stretchers and the men who lay on them, too weak even to groan. She put a hand apologetically on her husband's arm. ‘You're quite right, Piers,' she said. ‘How ought we to arrange it? We should need medical advice if the conversion is to be efficient.'

‘The best plan would be to attach Blaize to one of the London hospitals as its country branch,' suggested Margaret.

‘And since I'm already a governor of yours, there's no need to waste any time in choosing between them all,' said Piers. ‘I hope you won't mind if I put forward your name, Margaret, to be medical administrator of the country branch, since we shall all have to live and work together so closely.' He thought for a moment. ‘I'll take Alexa back to Park Lane now and then come straight to the hospital to see what arrangements can be made.'

‘It's too late!' Kate cried, watching as Piers and Alexa hurried off. Robert went with them, perhaps still fearing an emotional outburst from his mother if he stayed. But it seemed that Margaret had for the moment succeeded in pushing her personal distress to the back of her mind.

‘Too late for these men, perhaps,' she agreed. ‘But Piers's plan will help others. And all his colleagues in the House of Lords have large country houses. If a first experimental scheme can be seen to work successfully –'

‘I don't mean that,' interrupted Kate. ‘I mean that it will be too late for the next batch of wounded as well as for these if they are always to be sent back to England. How many lives are being lost by this kind of delay, do you think? The men should be treated as soon as they are wounded; and that means within a short distance of the battlefield.'

‘Well, obviously there must be dressing stations and field hospitals,' Margaret began; but again Kate interrupted her.

‘And obviously there are not enough. Or else they are not adequately equipped. Or else there are not enough doctors. Aunt Margaret, I must go to France as well.'

‘You may think you see a need, Kate.' Beatrice – Arthur's elder sister – had taken no part in the earlier conversation and she spoke now with the the cold edge of sarcasm which came naturally to her voice. But Kate could tell that she had been as deeply affected as any of the others by the contrast between the strong young men who had set off from Waterloo that morning and the broken bodies of those who had returned. ‘I can promise you, though, that the War Office will not think any emergency great enough to warrant the recruitment of women doctors. In the suffragists' office we have fought this battle twice and lost on each occasion. Since the generals are finding the Germans more difficult to defeat than they had expected, they console themselves by putting women to rout instead.'

‘What's happened, then?' demanded Kate.

‘The French have accepted us. Dr Louisa Garrett Anderson and Dr Flora Murray are already in France. They are the leaders of a Women's Hospital Corps which has been entirely paid for by private subscription. And the Scottish Federation has raised enough funds to equip two complete units. The first of them will be leaving for France within the next two weeks, if all goes well.'

‘I want to go with it,' said Kate. She was overwhelmed by the strength of her need to become involved.

‘It's fully staffed.' Beatrice spoke with a firmness as great as her cousin's. But her brusque comment did not prevent her from looking thoughtfully at Kate as though to estimate how far she had spoken only out of impulse. ‘But there's still a vacancy in the second unit. We expect that to be ready in January.'

‘Will you accept me?'

‘You haven't had much experience yet,' Beatrice pointed out. ‘But it's not for me to say yes or no. The surgeon who'll be in charge of the unit has already been appointed. You'd have to convince her that you could make yourself useful. I'm expecting her to call at the office this afternoon with the list of equipment she wants me to provide. If you'd like to come at two o'clock –'

‘I'll be there,' said Kate. ‘Thank you, Beatrice.'

The change in Beatrice did not go so far as to make her smile easily. She nodded as Kate in acceptance of the arrangement and advanced her lips towards Margaret's cheek without actually touching it. Then, businesslike and matter of fact, she strode away.

‘Don't rush into a decision like this, Kate,' Margaret said, putting a hand on her niece's arm as though that would be enough to hold her back. ‘It's too important to be settled all in a minute. And I promised Brinsley I'd look after you. He's fighting in order that the people he loves shall be safe. He wouldn't want you to put yourself in such danger. Besides, you've seen for yourself how great is the need for doctors here.'

‘One doctor in France could save the work of ten in London,' Kate argued. ‘Suppose Brinsley were to be wounded, Aunt Margaret. One of the men I spoke to had lain for three days at Boulogne waiting for a ship. No one even changed his dressings. Could you bear to think of something like that happening to Brinsley when I might be able to prevent it? Or if not for him, for some of the others like him.' She saw Margaret shiver and guessed that her aunt was imagining not Brinsley, but
Robert lying on a stretcher in a railway shed. ‘When you know, absolutely know, that something is the right thing to do, no amount of thinking about it is going to change the rightness. It isn't exactly that I
want
to go, Aunt Margaret. I don't see it as Brinsley does, as a kind of adventure. But the need is there. I have to go. There's no choice.'

‘I'm frightened, Kate,' said Margaret. ‘It's only a few hours since we were all dancing at Blaize. And now the place is to be filled with wounded men and Brinsley has gone and you and Robert will follow him. Where is it all going to end?'