“Some were evacuated at Calais a few days ago, before the situation there became untenable, and others are being evacuated immediately, including one located in a hotel by the beach.” The captain’s expression was grim. “French medics are faced with the decision to either run home immediately or remain at their posts, and that will be their personal choice, but there will be no other British medical personnel staying behind. You are the last remaining hospital, which means the fate of all our injured will rest entirely on your shoulders. I dare say the adjoining French clearance hospital will be available for use by this afternoon, and you’ll no doubt need the extra space.”

The doctors and orderlies around them either erupted into dissent or went strangely quiet, and the other nurses came closer to stand in a huddle. There were six of them still left, and they’d all become as close as sisters during their time together.

“They’re not really going to make us stay, are they?” one of them sobbed. “I didn’t sign up for this! I want to go home!”

Cate swallowed, not sure what to say in reply. In truth, they had all signed up for whatever conditions the war would bring, although it had always been a given that the vivid red cross on the side of a tent or ship would supposedly offer protection from a direct attack. That had been something they’d prepared for—an unexpected bombing, for instance. But if they were simply left behind for the enemy? A shiver ran through her. There would be no one left to protect them if that happened, which could mean a bayonet or bullet for any of them. Or worse. All these hours of trying to stay positive, of trying not to listen to the rumors swirling amongst the men as they’d traveled to set up their new hospital, and the decision had already been made to leave them behind. Jack had been right; they were going to be sitting ducks for the Germans. They didn’t stand a chance.

As the room fell silent and the captain took his leave, Cate slowly let go of Lilly and stood straight, watching Doctor Connor who, up until that moment, had run a very tight, smooth-sailing ship. Their hospital had been chaotic at times, filled with more bodies than she’d ever imagined possible, but he’d always managed to keep things running in an organized manner. They’d been treated fairly, he was tireless as a surgeon in his efforts to save both limb and life, and she knew that he had a family at home waiting for him, which meant that he’d do anything to get them all evacuated if he could.