Praying That We Meet Again, page 1
Praying That
We Meet Again
The Cruellest War
- Book Three -
Andrew Wareham
Copyright © 2025 Andrew Wareham
KINDLE Edition
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored, in any form or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Visit the author’s website at:
andrewwarehamauthor.com
The book title is from the song 'When This Cruel War is Over' written by Charles Carroll Sawyer with music by Henry Tucker, published in 1863.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
“I am Miss Augusta Redwood, ma’am. I have learnt how to drive and I would wish to join your service as a volunteer.”
The senior of the Field Auxiliary Nursing Service, a lady in her thirties of fearsome mien, stared into Gus’ eyes, assessing her, uncovering her character, deciding whether she had the qualities demanded by FANY. She glanced at the file containing the initial letter of application.
“Miss Redwood. Eldest daughter, if I recall your family. The banking Redwoods, is it not?”
“It is, ma’am.”
“Good family. Does your father approve of your application?”
“He is unaware of it, ma’am. I believe he will do so. He is an enlightened gentleman in many ways and is, I believe, slightly disappointed in his sons. He will be glad to know that one at least of the family is in France.”
“Mr George Redwood is representing the family in New York, on Wall Street, is he not? No doubt he is serving the country there. Mr Henry Redwood is less respectable; a man about Town, one understands.”
“About Town, certainly, ma’am. I am less sure he can claim to be a ‘man’ in these times.”
There was a reluctant smile.
“Well said, Miss Redwood. Present yourself at Dover in three days from now. There will be a contingent of our young ladies assembling there at ten o’clock in the morning. Bring with you a single large leather valise containing personal clothing, underwear and such. You will be issued with uniforms on arrival in France. You will require a small amount of money as well. You will be paid in France. Welcome to FANY, Miss Redwood. Please give your measurements for uniforms to my assistant in the outer office. You will be Trooper Redwood from Friday, when you join us.”
Gus was less elated than she had expected. Miss – Lieutenant, that was – Franklin had not imparted a sense of adventure. She was leading them out to a hard war in which they would be expected to play their part equally to any man. She was not a suffragette – she would make her mark by working, not by playing politics.
It seemed reasonable.
She waved to a taxi, gave the address of the bank.
“Miss Redwood to see Mr Redwood at his convenience.”
There was a young boy behind the desk at the door. He bowed and offered her a seat before taking to the internal telephone, a rare convenience even in London offices. A brief conversation and he called a page – an even younger boy – to lead Miss Redwood to the Director’s offices.
“Augusta, my dear! What brings you here and could not wait until I came home tonight?”
“Convenience, sir. I was in London and thought it best to speak to you immediately.”
He wondered why, his first thoughts being a private doctor and a need for a little but expensive operation to make everything tidy for an unmarried girl. It did not seem in character for all he knew of his eldest daughter.
“I joined FANY this morning, sir. I was accepted as a driver for their ambulance.”
They had but one, she understood.
“I had heard the War Office had refused to consider using the services of women in France.”
“The Belgians have accepted us, sir.”
“Well done them. They have some forces still fighting to the south of the inundation, I understand. It is not what I would have wanted, and your brother George will be outraged. I will support you in it, Augusta. When do you go?”
“On Friday, Papa.”
“So soon? Even so, you are right to go. I wondered why you suddenly requested driving lessons. I cannot say you were wrong. Write frequent letters, my dear. Your mother will not entirely understand, but I do. I shall personally inform your brother Henry that one of the family has gone to war. For the moment, one never knows what can happen in wartime. Give me five minutes to inform my deputy that I am leaving the office, then we shall make one or two purchases.”
He spent a large sum of money in a short time – rubberised boots and warm, thick stockings as winter was coming on the most obviously practical. Somewhat dismaying was a pair of small automatic pistols, one for a handbag, the other to tuck into an inside pocket.
“Six shots, point two five calibre. Fired from a range of a foot or two they will discourage any man who seeks to force himself onto you. Fire two or three shots, never one. In time of war, anything can happen. Always carry both, if you please. I will be far happier knowing you can protect yourself.”
“But…”
“Exactly. The probability is high you will have no need for them. One chance in a thousand says they may be very welcome.”
She supposed that might be so. She had no experience of men, was not at all sure she wanted any; she certainly would wish to make her own mind up on any occasion that might arise.
“Very well, sir.”
“Take a hundred pounds with you. You will probably not need the money. If you do, it will be useful to have it to hand. I will find you one hundred sovereigns. Gold coin is always acceptable. Keep them hidden away safe. A hundred would buy you passage to Switzerland, I do not doubt. I will give you the address of our banking partner there. They will be able to make contact with me against need.”
It was all very practical, but not at all inside her previous experience. She had not visualised the possibility of having to flee, presumably from a victorious German army.
She made her thanks, accompanied him to Waterloo and the train home. He had taken the whole afternoon, sat in the first class compartment with her.
“What of your sisters? Will they go off to war, do you think?”
“No. Henrietta might wish to, eventually. Not this year or next, I suspect. She is still upset about poor Harry Griffin. Victoria? I suspect Mama will be well advised to keep a close eye to her. I do not doubt she will wish to offer comforts to wounded officers.”
“A flighty girl. I do not doubt you are right. Lieutenant Robert Griffin is back in England, I understand.”
“Wounds to the lower legs, Papa. Splinters, I understand. Steel shards, several of them, blown through the upper ankle of both legs and one foot. I believe he has lost that foot. I know he is still in hospital and will have difficulty in walking when he is released. Apparently, he is to be discharged from service as medically unfit.”
“Hobbling on a walking stick. Hopefully, an unromantic figure. I wonder what he will do.”
“Not a great deal, sir. He is least clever of the five Griffin boys. Alfred, of course, is far the most able and has a future planned out for himself.”
“A research mathematician and engineer, probably concentrating on aeronautics, the building of aeroplanes and possibly balloons.
“No, not balloons, sir. He does not see them to have a practical future. Multi-engine heavier than air is where the future lies, he is sure. Add to that, he is a Rugby player who will probably be capped for England and that will guarantee his success.”
“Of course. Finally, he is already a captain and I understand has more than one Mention in Despatches to his name. The combination says a knighthood before he is forty and quite possibly a peerage in his fifties as a recognition of a life well led.”
“You sound much in favour of Alfred Griffin, Papa.”
“I am. Envious of Major General Griffin. I would swap any one of his sons for mine!”
“George is what he is, Papa. He will work hard.”
“He will. He will never be more than a third rater. I shall ensure that he will never have control of the bank. I shall probably sell up, in fact, and let him inherit a substantial trust fund. That will protect him and the bank too.”
“And Henry, Papa?”
“He is an idler of limited intellect and dubious moral probity. He has an income guaranteed him and will no doubt come to me at intervals to clear his debts. I expect nothing of Henry but have warne
“What will he do if military service becomes compulsory, Papa?”
“He will run, I do not doubt. A passage to Canada on family business then to disappear across the American border, there to take ship to Brazil where he can live well and cheaply.”
“You have no expectations of him, Papa? You do not think he will turn over a new leaf?”
“No. He is incapable of anything good. I have no value for him at all. I have seen his way of life in the couple of months he has been in London and know exactly what to expect of him. He has membership of at least two of the less reputable night clubs and enjoys the company he finds there.”
Her father would say no more, leaving her to speculate from a basis of ignorance.
Home and she told the rest of the family what she was to do, and that she had her father’s support in her actions.
Victoria asked of the uniform and rapidly showed no interest at all in following her example.
“A khaki tunic and skirt and a soft khaki bonnet! No doubt half-boots and thick stockings besides! Thank you, no, sister!”
“I am going to drive an ambulance, not to parade in front of the officers, Victoria!”
She received no reply, Victoria having lost all interest in the topic.
Henrietta did not think she was the stuff of which ambulance drivers might be made. Augusta agreed with her.
Her father accompanied her on the early express to Waterloo and took her across to the Dover train, put her into a first class compartment, waved her farewell.
She stepped out tentatively at Dover, looked around her, was shouted at from a small group at the ticket barrier. She recognised Lieutenant Franklin.
“Reporting for duty, Ma’am!”
“Very good, Trooper Redwood. One valise and a handbag, I see. Perfectly correct. We have one more to arrive and that may well be her coming down from the Third Class carriages – yes, so it is. Her parents have cast her out and she is short of money, naturally. I gather your father raised no objections, Trooper Redwood?”
“He said he was proud of me, Ma’am. I believe he was telling the truth. My brothers have been a severe disappointment to him. As you are aware, one has taken a posting with the bank to Wall Street, in New York. The other is the merest lounger about Town!”
“Disappointing indeed, Trooper Redwood. Do not think you must force yourself into danger to compensate for them!”
The sixth member of the party arrived, announced herself as Trooper Montserrat.
Lieutenant Franklin led them to the docks, pointed to a small tramp ship.
“That is our transport. You will see the ambulance on her deck. Our first. We are to go across to Calais and the Belgians will lead us to our place of work. Initially, we shall have a small casualty clearing station, three assisting with nursing, Trooper Redwood driving the ambulance, transporting the wounded, after their first treatment at CCS, to the various hospitals. Normally, Sergeant Major Ashley-Smith will accompany her as orderly, in the back with the patients en route. I expect to rapidly expand our operations here. I shall be in London probably more than I can be out here, but I shall bring more ambulances, drivers, orderlies and nurses out in quick time. Remember! The FANY can do anything! Nothing is impossible to FANY – that is to be our motto!”
Augusta believed her.
An hour later, at sea, pottering across the Channel, Augusta asked Lieutenant Franklin of the arrangements for the maintenance of the ambulance.
“I know little of mechanics as yet, Ma’am. Is there a garage to keep the ambulance up in the first instance while I learn what is to be done?”
“There is, Trooper. I shall ensure they teach you all you need. Well done for volunteering!”
“I shall do the job thoroughly, Ma’am! I am not to be satisfied with half measures.”
“Nor any of us in FANY, Trooper Redwood. Have you any French?”
“Schoolgirl, Ma’am. That will improve.”
“Well done! By the way, I am generally called, ‘The Boss’. I do not think discipline will suffer if you call me ‘Boss’ rather than ‘Ma’am’.”
Robert Griffin, Lieutenant in the Hampshires, made his way slowly along the hospital corridor to the consulting rooms at the front of the ground floor, looking out over Southampton Water. He had been discharged from his upstairs ward, slightly reluctantly as he was still a long way from fully healed, but the bed was needed for the unceasing flow of wounded from France.
“This way, Lieutenant.”
There were two doctors, both RAMC, in uniform and senior to him, a captain and a major.
“Griffin, sir. Hampshires.”
“Take a seat, Mr Griffin. You were regular pre-war, I see. Bad luck. You have lost the left foot above the ankle. The right foot remains but the ankle has taken damage and will always be stiff. You are using a pair of crutches now. You will, probably, be able to limit yourself to a single walking stick, eventually, but should expect to use the crutches for many months, perhaps a full year. You will appreciate that you can never be fit for active service again, Lieutenant Griffin. You are entitled to half-pay for life, Lieutenant, but will never serve again. You are at liberty to seek other employment without jeopardising your half-pay. You will remain a patient at this hospital until fully discharged but in effect you are now a civilian, sir. You will eventually be provided with a prosthetic foot. For now, sir, have you transport arranged to your home?”
“My father sent a message to the effect there should be a staff car waiting for me, sir. That is Major General Griffin.”
They enquired, found the car was waiting and called porters to assist Robert to the vehicle. A two hour journey into the north of Hampshire, slow because of the mass of military traffic, mostly horse-drawn, and he was helped out and led into the front door of the Place, the empty family home. The butler and housekeeper greeted him, made him welcome and informed him of the arrangements they had made.
“In the side wing, Mr Robert, on the ground floor so you need not struggle with stairs. A bedroom and sitting room and a bathroom immediately next door. A contained apartment, one might say, sir. You may dine in the small dining room, as the Family always did, or at the table in your own sitting room, sir.”
It was all done with kindness, and emphasised that he was a cripple now.
“We did not know what you might want brought down from your childhood room upstairs, Mr Robert.”
There were books he might reread and mementoes of Indian days. They would make the downstairs rooms his.
“Have you heard from my brothers in France?”
“Mr Alfred is a captain now, sir, and so is Mr John. Mr Peter has joined the Hampshires, as is only proper and is full lieutenant now.”
Robert did not say he knew that. There was no need to mention the upset there had been between them.
“Mr Alfred is with the Kents, is he not?”
“He is, sir. A pity for not being with the family regiment, sir, but he has three Mentions, sir! We can all be proud of that, sir.”
They could, most certainly.
“When will we win the war, sir? Will we bring the men home for Christmas?”
“We are losing the war at the moment! If we are lucky, we may be able to hold the Germans in a line across northern France. After that, the best hope is for a negotiated peace. Russia is pressing into Germany from the east. That is our best hope.”
The butler shook his head. News of Tannenberg and the Masurian Lakes was just coming into the newspapers.
“The Russians have taken huge losses, sir, and have been pushed back a hundred miles and more. There is nothing to hope for there. They have won a victory in the south, against Austria-Hungary. Generally, sir, things are not going well in the East. It is expected that Turkey will go to war against us at any day. Italy still has not declared war and it is thought that she will not keep her alliance with Germany.”
“Not very good, is it?”
They could not regard Italy as any great ally.
It was not good at all. It was almost as bad as Black Week in the Boer War.
“The casualties, sir, seem to be growing every week.”
“They are. The battles around Ypres are costing tens of thousands of lives from the BEF. The long-trained riflemen of the BEF are dying fast and are being replaced by keen youngsters of no training at all. It is a different army, far less able to use its rifle properly. I see no hope for immediate victory.”
