‘Crikey, I hope we don’t go over any bumps if we have to sit here for long,’ Angela grumbled. ‘These seats are as hard as rocks. I bet my bum will be bruised by the time we get wherever we’re going!’

Holly said nothing, she was too intent on trying to get warm but when Richard climbed in and sat beside her suddenly she could feel her cheeks flaming. Harry was sitting the other side of her and she hardly dared turn her head because he was watching her intently. Another couple of Red Cross nurses joined them shortly after and at last they set off. They had no idea where they were going and could see nothing because of the large canvas that covered the back of the truck. Angela moaned and groaned as they bounced up and down on the hard wooden benches and another young nurse was crying softly. Eventually the town roads gave way to what felt like country lanes and they had to cling to the edges of their seats and dig their heels in to prevent themselves being thrown off.

‘Bloody hell, this is torture!’ Angela complained as they rattled along. They seemed to have been going forever when, far off in the distance, above the sound of the engine, Holly heard what sounded like gunshots.

‘We must be getting close to the hospital. It won’t be all that far away from the front,’ Harry told her solemnly. The sound was enough to make even Angela stop moaning as they tried to imagine what it must be like for the people fighting. At last the truck slowed and stopped with a grating of gears and the canvas was drawn aside. It was mid-morning by now but the sky was grey and overcast and a cold drizzle was falling.

‘Nurses’ quarters that way, doctors’ that way,’ a young lieutenant guided them.

Holly and Angela set off, careful to keep to the duckboards that seemed to be floating in a sea of mud. A row of large tents was before them and Holly realised with a sinking feeling that this must be their accommodation.

‘It’s pretty grim, isn’t it?’ Angela hissed and Holly could only nod in agreement. They found a young nurse waiting for them in the first tent and after ticking their names off her list she told them, ‘You’re both in number three. Choose whichever beds you like. You’ll see which are already taken.’

Once again they set off across the duckboards and on entering the tent Angela groaned. It was even worse than she had imagined it would be, completely lacking in comfort save for a stove which stood in the centre of the tent. Its chimney went up through a hole in the roof and there were a number of logs piled at the side of it so she quickly opened the door and threw one on.

‘Looks like we’re responsible for keeping that going,’ she said miserably, making her way to the bed nearest the fire. Even there it had little effect on the cold. They looked about and found a screen in one corner behind which was a jug and bowl and a number of faded towels.