I squinted up at the majestic white ship. A broad green stripe ran around the hull, amidships, broken in three places by the universally recognised red cross. Low winter sunlight caught the great sign causing it to glint and flash, and confirming in our minds that nothing bad could ever happen to such a magnificent vessel. Breathless with excitement, and proud to be seen in public wearing my new uniform, I smiled at everyone who glanced my way.

‘Smith, wipe that grin off your face, you’re not a showgirl!’ Matron ordered as she rounded us up on the quayside.

‘Yes, Matron, sorry, Matron.’ I removed the smile, but it was impossible to dampen the sparkle in my eyes. We VADs and new nurses were ordered aboard. My heart thumped with pride. Most of us rushed to the rail and peered down at those on the wharf below. We were so high, they looked small, but how desperately I wanted to see my parents . . . wanted them to see me. I searched and searched, gripping the rail and leaning over as far as I dared, hoping to stand out in the sea of uniforms. Then, I caught sight of my father’s face, upturned, luminous with worry and stern as ever. Mother stood beside him, dabbing her eyes with one of his large white handkerchiefs. She held it in the air, fluttering it as if flinging her tears my way. I jumped up and down, arms thrust above my head, they had to see me! A voice came from behind.

‘Miss Smith, decorum, please!’

I turned. ‘Sorry, Matron. I got carried away.’ Clearly, I was destined to be scolded by Matron on a regular basis.

‘Do remember, we represent our king and country, so we will not behave like children at a Punch and Judy show.’

‘Yes, Matron. It won’t happen again.’ But I could not contain my grin. ‘It’s my parents, they came to see me off! There, Matron, down on the portside.’ I pointed.

She raised her eyebrows and stretched her neck. ‘And ladies don’t point unless it’s an emergency. What is the world coming to?’

I dropped my arm. ‘No, of course they don’t. Sorry, Matron, I am too excited.’

Matron peered down her nose and shook her head in a despairing manner, but as she turned away, I caught the glimmer of a smile.

Down on the dock, people gathered in likeminded clusters. Some younger people cheered rowdily, whistling, and waving little flags or handkerchiefs up towards us. Other assemblies were subdued, saddened, clutching each other, gloved hands flapping awkwardly towards the ship.

The point of no return came at two fifteen in the afternoon. My heart thumped as the stevedores lifted rope loops off the mooring stanchions, severing the umbilical to my motherland.