Holly swallowed and nodded. She had assisted in theatre many times before but never in such primitive conditions as this.

‘We shall need to boil that knife and wash our hands thoroughly,’ he said as he took a large needle from his bag and began to thread it. ‘Oh, and boil this needle while you’re at it would you? We can’t afford for him to get another infection.’

Soon a pan of boiling water containing everything Richard might need to perform the operation was bubbling on the stove. By then he had placed a thick wad of sheet beneath the patient’s knee and as soon as he was happy that the instruments he would need to use were thoroughly sterilised he would be ready to begin. Thankfully the poor chap was only semi-conscious and was rambling incoherently so had no awareness of what was about to happen to him.

‘Right,’ he said as he stood poised with the knife. ‘Hold that chloroform rag under his nose and keep it there until I tell you to stop.’

Holly did as she was told and soon the airman was breathing deeply. ‘Good.’ Taking up the pen he had carried in his bag Richard carefully drew a line where he wanted the amputation to be and then the knife glinted in the light from the oil lamp as the operation began.

‘That’s it,’ he said an hour later as he stepped back from the table. The rotting limb was lying on the floor at the side of the bed and what was left of the airman’s leg was stitched up as neatly as Richard could manage. A large pile of bloody cloths had also been thrown to the ground and the bed resembled a bloodbath.

‘Keep the pressure on those stitches till the bleeding slows down,’ he told Holly. ‘He’s already lost far more blood than I would have liked him to but we can only do our best under these circumstances.’

Obediently she pressed one cloth after another to the stump, discarding them and reaching for yet another when they became soaked through, but at last the bleeding began to slow and she sighed with relief.

‘I think that’s the worst over now,’ she informed him and he looked pleased.

Then unexpectedly he tipped Pierre’s fine French brandy all over the stump, telling her, ‘Alcohol is a wonderful cleanser and seeing as it’s the only one available it’ll have to do.’

Holly suddenly giggled. ‘What a waste!’ and when he laughed too, just for a moment the old closeness between them was back.

Over the next two days the airman showed signs of improvement although he sobbed brokenly when Richard had to explain to him what he’d had to do.

‘I’m so sorry, old chap,’ Richard apologised. ‘But it was either that or lose you.’

The airman sniffed and held out his hand. ‘I understand, thank you, doctor. I’m Sam Wright, by the way.’