In no time at all the British troops, alongside their French and Belgian comrades, were engaged in a bitter struggle for the town of Mons in France. The British Expeditionary Force, consisting of some 70,000 men, had crossed the Channel in a highly secret navy operation but despite their best efforts and skills the enemy proved too much and on 23 August the retreat began and civilians in Mons, who had been innocently attending a church service, were caught in the cross fire. Bloody battles were already being fought along an ever-shifting line from Belgium in the north to Alsace and Lorraine in the south, where the French opened their main thrust. The main danger lay in the north, for in less than a month the Germans had swept over most of Belgium, crossed the Sambre and Meuse and forced a French retreat to the Somme, which was the last barrier before Paris.

Slowly the victims of the war began to be shipped home and suddenly the little cottage hospital was bursting at the seams. There were young men with horrific injuries, some of them life-threatening, and the doctors and nurses were working almost around the clock to care for them.

It was reported in the newspapers that in London the Metropolitan Police had rounded up and detained over three hundred Germans who were suspected of being spies and they were now being kept in the vast Olympia complex in Kensington, which had been turned into a prisoner-of-war camp.

‘But what if they’re innocent?’ Holly asked her grandfather as they sat at the dining table. She had just finished a fourteen-hour shift and was almost dropping with fatigue. And she was due back on duty at six the next morning.

‘For now the prime minister can take no chances,’ he answered gravely. ‘All Germans must be treated as the enemy.’

Holly shook her head and drained the tea in her cup before going upstairs to drop into bed, exhausted.

The following month brought no better news from abroad when German submarines sunk three British cruisers off the Netherlands. A number of neutral ships and fishing vessels were also struck by mines in the North Sea. Suddenly it seemed that nowhere was safe and people lived in fear of what might happen next, and still the young men went in droves to fight for their king and country never realising that most of them would never come home.

Chapter Thirty-Six

‘Prepare him for theatre, nurse. I’m afraid this leg will have to be amputated.’ Harry wearily straightened from a young soldier’s bed and managed a small smile for Holly.

‘But he’s so young,’ Holly whispered as she gently sponged the boy’s feverish brow.

‘It’s gangrene and it’s gone too far for me to do anything,’ Harry answered. ‘It’s either his leg or his life, which do you think he’d prefer?’

‘Oh, I wasn’t questioning you, doctor,’ she assured him hastily, hearing the note of irritation in his voice.

‘Sorry.’ He knuckled his tired eyes. ‘I’m just shattered. Still, once we’ve got this boyo sorted I might be able to snatch a few hours’ sleep. I’ll leave you to it now while I go and ask them to get theatre ready.’