the WSPU meeting. Millicent says the snow will turn to slush if it rains, as it is likely soon to do.
18 January
Father has spent the day shut in Uncle Aubreyâs study, not even emerging for meals. Apparently he received a letter, though whether it is from Edmund or Harry (from whom there has been no word since Christmas Day) or contains bad news from home is a matter upon which we can but speculate.
20 January
Germany has bombed London! Great flying ships, called Zeppelins, have flown across the Channel with huge cargoes of bombs destined to be dropped on the helpless women and children of this Nation. According to the newspaper reports we have no defence against these shameful attacks. Uncle Aubrey will be furious.
21 January
A card arrived from Mr Lindsay, sent before Christmas â there have been shocking delays in the Postal Service. He was to spend the holidays at the home of a friend he has made at Oxford. I am glad he has settled in a little; I do not care to think of him feeling lonely at such a time of year.
William has contracted a cold; Mother quite agitated.
22 January
Uncle Aubrey is unable to come home this weekend, doubtless being engaged in developing defences against the Kaiserâs airborne attacks.
24 January
Motherâs nerves seem quite frayed â perhaps it is a consequence of childbirth. William snuffles like a piglet.
26 January
My nineteenth birthday, which Mother says we will celebrate âonce everything has settledâ, whatever that may mean. An invitation for the weekend has arrived from Lady Braybrooke; Mother not averse.
28 January
Uncle Aubrey arrived unexpectedly and sequestered Father in the study for over an hour. When I later enquired whether their conversation had been regarding my brother, Father, looking rather startled, replied that he would visit Harry as soon as Mother was âin better spiritsâ but would not be gone more than three days. It was not Harry I had meant, but held my tongue in case I should be offered further information. Sadly, I was not. Mother, needless to say, is refusing to discuss it and poor Father is more than ever in the doghouse.
30 January, Audley End
Rain! Millicentâs warning is proved true: it is dreary and cold. Today I wore two layers of woollen undergarments as well as double the usual overgarments and still I wascold! Winifred called for me in a chaise â it is not the weather for motoring â and I am now in such luxury I must pinch myself. It is still cold, however, despite the fire burning brightly in the grate. Winifred showed me a letter she is writing to the Belgian Red Cross, offering her services as an ambulance driver. I think her very brave. She intends presenting The Plan to her aunt as a fait accompli, though it is my impression that Lady B rather prefers to be in charge of developments. But no doubt Winifred knows best how to handle her aunt.
Sunday 31 January
The weather being atrocious we attended Service in Lady Braybrookeâs private chapel, which was built much later than the house but within it. The pillars look rather like giant punga ferns. I did my best not to stare overtly.
1 February
Over lunch Lady B shared her Grand Plan, which is that Winifred and I offer our services at the Hospital in Cambridge, where we might assist with the wounded returning from France. I doubt my parents will approve, while Winifred is less than pleased as it cuts across her own plans. Nevertheless it may have merit; I shall mull it over, as Lady B has advised.
3 February, Deans Park
Letters awaited my return; I read them greedily then was obliged to go back and begin again rather more slowly. The first, and most surprising, was from Edmund, who writes that the Army is not quite what he expected, involving a lot of aimless marching about and being shouted at. He saysthe Germans they practise attacking are made of straw, and that he hopes the real ones stand as obligingly still. I wonder if he knows that
18 January
Father has spent the day shut in Uncle Aubreyâs study, not even emerging for meals. Apparently he received a letter, though whether it is from Edmund or Harry (from whom there has been no word since Christmas Day) or contains bad news from home is a matter upon which we can but speculate.
20 January
Germany has bombed London! Great flying ships, called Zeppelins, have flown across the Channel with huge cargoes of bombs destined to be dropped on the helpless women and children of this Nation. According to the newspaper reports we have no defence against these shameful attacks. Uncle Aubrey will be furious.
21 January
A card arrived from Mr Lindsay, sent before Christmas â there have been shocking delays in the Postal Service. He was to spend the holidays at the home of a friend he has made at Oxford. I am glad he has settled in a little; I do not care to think of him feeling lonely at such a time of year.
William has contracted a cold; Mother quite agitated.
22 January
Uncle Aubrey is unable to come home this weekend, doubtless being engaged in developing defences against the Kaiserâs airborne attacks.
24 January
Motherâs nerves seem quite frayed â perhaps it is a consequence of childbirth. William snuffles like a piglet.
26 January
My nineteenth birthday, which Mother says we will celebrate âonce everything has settledâ, whatever that may mean. An invitation for the weekend has arrived from Lady Braybrooke; Mother not averse.
28 January
Uncle Aubrey arrived unexpectedly and sequestered Father in the study for over an hour. When I later enquired whether their conversation had been regarding my brother, Father, looking rather startled, replied that he would visit Harry as soon as Mother was âin better spiritsâ but would not be gone more than three days. It was not Harry I had meant, but held my tongue in case I should be offered further information. Sadly, I was not. Mother, needless to say, is refusing to discuss it and poor Father is more than ever in the doghouse.
30 January, Audley End
Rain! Millicentâs warning is proved true: it is dreary and cold. Today I wore two layers of woollen undergarments as well as double the usual overgarments and still I wascold! Winifred called for me in a chaise â it is not the weather for motoring â and I am now in such luxury I must pinch myself. It is still cold, however, despite the fire burning brightly in the grate. Winifred showed me a letter she is writing to the Belgian Red Cross, offering her services as an ambulance driver. I think her very brave. She intends presenting The Plan to her aunt as a fait accompli, though it is my impression that Lady B rather prefers to be in charge of developments. But no doubt Winifred knows best how to handle her aunt.
Sunday 31 January
The weather being atrocious we attended Service in Lady Braybrookeâs private chapel, which was built much later than the house but within it. The pillars look rather like giant punga ferns. I did my best not to stare overtly.
1 February
Over lunch Lady B shared her Grand Plan, which is that Winifred and I offer our services at the Hospital in Cambridge, where we might assist with the wounded returning from France. I doubt my parents will approve, while Winifred is less than pleased as it cuts across her own plans. Nevertheless it may have merit; I shall mull it over, as Lady B has advised.
3 February, Deans Park
Letters awaited my return; I read them greedily then was obliged to go back and begin again rather more slowly. The first, and most surprising, was from Edmund, who writes that the Army is not quite what he expected, involving a lot of aimless marching about and being shouted at. He saysthe Germans they practise attacking are made of straw, and that he hopes the real ones stand as obligingly still. I wonder if he knows that
Similar Books
Return to Winter: Russia, China, and the New Cold War Against America
Douglas E. Schoen, Melik Kaylan
