Copyright Oggbashan July 2021
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
In the years before the First World War, Lady Agnes was enjoying life. She was rich because her father had married an American heiress. She was tall — from her father, and beautiful having inherited her mother’s beauty.
Her father loved her but was worried because she was considered fast, and by the standards of the day a wild child. He was also concerned that she spent too much time with the family’s young chauffeur Alfred and not enough time with the horses. But his worries were lessened in the early Summer of 1914 when Alfred became engaged to a parlour maid and Lady Agnes finally accepted the proposal of her second cousin Ernest.
He might have been more worried if he knew that Lady Agnes took part in Ernest’s favourite activity — flying at an Aero Club at Eastchurch on the Isle of Sheppey. Agnes would drive the family’s Rolls Royce Silver Ghost to the outskirts of London before, at her father’s insistence, Alfred drove through London. She would have driven her Mercer Raceabout, but the Rolls was much more reliable.
At Eastchurch, Agnes had been accepted as a competent pilot and each trip she came, weather permitting, she was flying in a variety of very flimsy aircraft. She had crash landed twice, which wasn’t unusual for the time, but each time she had walked away and the aircraft was repairable, even if the cost of maintenance and repairs was a considerable part of Agnes’ expenditure. But she could afford it.
Everything changed with the outbreak of war. Ernest became an RFC pilot and went to France among the first RFC pilots to go into action. Agnes’ father resumed his post as Colonel of a local regiment and went to war in the Middle East, taking Albert and the Silver Ghost with him. In Cairo, the Silver Ghost was fitted with armour plating and they also had a Rolls Royce Armoured car, which at first only Albert of the whole regiment could drive.
Agnes volunteered to be a VAD, a trainee nurse, but she was mainly an ambulance driver in Belgium from early in the war. When driving her ambulance she wore her flying helmet. Her mother was horrified when Agnes was the first of the family to be wounded in action, hit by shrapnel from a Germen shell, but Agnes dismissed it. Her wounds were superficial and as she put it “If you are going to be injured, where better than with an ambulance and its crew?”.
Agnes was sent back to England to recover for a few weeks which she spent training more volunteers to drive ambulances. A month later she was back in Belgium and she had received her stripe as a VAD who had served for more than a year and was considered competent.
A couple of weeks later the Field Dressing Station that was the base for Agnes’ ambulance was being moved further away from the front line because a large German attack was expected and the new British front line trenches would be on the site of the dressing station. As Agnes unloaded her last load of wounded, she was about to drive her ambulance to the new site when an RFC plane landed in the field next to the dressing station. The pilot didn’t get out. Agnes drove her ambulance up to the plane as some soldiers helped the pilot, obviously wounded, from the cockpit.
Agnes’ crew applied wound dressings to the pilot’s legs and arm and loaded him in the ambulance. As he was being unloaded, he caught Agnes’ hand with his uninjured arm.
“Nurse,” He said urgently, “I was doing reconnaissance to see where the Germans would attack. I was taking pictures but my plane is the only one to return. The photos MUST get back to my unit — NOW. The camera is built into the plane and only experts can remove the film safely.”
“Is the plane undamaged?”
“Yes. But low on fuel. There’s just enough to get back to my base but it would mean crossing the German lines. They have a salient between here and there.”
“OK, George. I’ll sort it.”
“How?”
“I’ll fly it myself.”
“But you’re a nurse.”
“And a pilot with probably more flying hours than you.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. I have only 90.”
“And I have over 500. Don’t worry. I’ll get your plane delivered.”
Agnes got some soldiers to turn the plane around, swing the propellor and take away the makeshift chocks when she told them to. Once she was airborne she saw that the fuel gauge was nearly empty. She flew straight and low. Just before she reached the German lines a German fighter spotted her and started to chase.
Agnes flew along the line of the German trenches at about thirty feet. The German pilot couldn’t fire because he might hit his own side. The men in the trenches couldn’t react fast enough and anyway their pilot was very close to Agnes so they could have been shooting at him. Agnes was worried that she would be vulnerable when she had to turn towards the RFC base but two British planes had seen her and chased away the German. Agnes’ engine was beginning to splutter as she eased into a perfect landing and taxied towards the airfield’s buildings.
She pulled off her leather flying helmet and put on her nurse’s headdress before she was helped from the plane by incredulous airmen. A group hurriedly erected a dark tent under the fuselage to remove the negatives. Agnes handed the map that George had marked where he had photographed to a pilot. A group of RFC pilots rushed towards her but made way for the station commander.
“Hello Lady Agnes,” the Major said. “I thought I ought to know a lady pilot who can land a plane with no fuel so expertly. We were introduced at Eastchurch.”
“More than that, Major Rudy. You were one of my first instructors.”
“And you were soon far beyond me. You’re probably a better pilot that I am, and possibly better than any of my pilots too.”
“Maybe — but not in combat.”
“You just have been, Lady Agnes, in an unarmed plane.
“That was scary until your fighters arrived.”
“Come and join me in the officers’ mess. You need a cup of tea at least, or maybe champagne, and then my driver will take you back to your unit.”
“If he can find it. They were moving when George landed.”
“And entrusted his plane to the best pilot around. Thank you.”
“I’m sure my fiancé Ernest is a better pilot than I am.”
“Perhaps he is. He became an ace last week and has made two more kills since then. But he takes too many risks in combat. His squadron won’t necessarily follow him because he will attack overwhelming numbers. By the way, George has telephoned. He is wounded but not very seriously. He wants to know if you arrived safely. I’ll let him know as soon as I can get to a telephone.”
“He was a bit startled when I offered to fly his plane.”
“I’m not surprised. There are very few competent women pilots and you’re the best I know, Lady Agnes.”
“War is risky. I’ve been wounded myself.”
“But you’re a nurse.!”
“German shells don’t care.”
In the officers’ mess Lady Agnes was offered champagne. She had one glass but when she asked for tea it was swiftly provided in RFC crested china. She had to recount her flight to the assembled pilots, many of whom had seen her low over enemy lines.
The adjutant came in with a folder which he handed to the Commandant.
“Sir, these are copies of the photos that George took. Another set are on their way to the local HQ by motorcycle messenger. As we expected, they show the Germans assembling troops and equipment either side of the salient, But George must have gone very low indeed, in some pictures we can make out the cap badges and regimental markings. To the East are the 15th Bavarians; to the West the 9th Prussians. That is bad news. They are both battle-hardened and have been out of the front areas for weeks. It will be hard to stop them.”
“But thanks to George and Lady Agnes we know who and when. That helps.”
The commandant whispered in the adjutant’s ear.
“Yes, Sir. It will be typed within a quarter of an hour.”
The adjutant left. The commandant spread the photographs on a table. The pilots made room for Lady Agnes to see too.
“I’m not surprised George was injured,” she said. “How low do you think he was flying?”
“For these? About 500 feet.” A pilot said “But these few? Fifty feet or less.”
“That was suicidal,” Lady Agnes protested.
“But extremely valuable. Those lower pictures show us who is there.”
“More tea, Lady Agnes?” The commandant asked.
As she was drinking the second cup the adjutant returned. He handed a folder to the Commandant.
“Lady Agnes?” It appeared to be a formal request. She stood up.
“I have decided you need recognition for your flight today. This Is your commission as an RFC pilot officer attached to this base.”
“What! This is unprecedented, sir,” Lady Agnes protested.
“So was your flight over enemy lines.”
The commandant pinned RFC wings on Lady Agnes’ cape.
“You are now one of us, Pilot Officer Lady Agnes. I am sure your fiancé Ernest will be pleased.”
“Yes, Sir.” Lady Agnes saluted the Commandant among cheers from all the officers present.
“And now, Pilot Officer, we should get you back to your post at the field dressing station, wherever it is now. My driver will take you in my Crossley, but remember you will always be welcome here when your duties permit.”
“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.” Lady Agnes replied.
She drove off with cheers from the officers and men of the RFC base. It took three hours and several stops for directions before she was at the moved station. Lady Agnes showed her RFC commission to the medical director.
“An RFC Pilot Officer? You still have to salute me, Lady Agnes, but I wonder. Until now you were a civilian VAD, a good, qualified one and a skilled ambulance driver. But now? You have a commission in His Majesty’s Forces. You are no longer a civilian. I need to take the change in.”
“So do I, sir. It seems unreal.”
“Unreal? Maybe. Odd, certainly, but it might help the medical services. I will have to think and consult the powers that be. But we are pleased to have you back unharmed. Thank you.”
+++
Two hours before the dawn of the expected German attack, the British artillery opened up a barrage on the tip of the salient, switching, half an hour before dawn, to the edges where the attacks were expected. Despite that, the Germans advanced about 200 yards either side, but the British pushed in the tip of the salient by 300 yards. What had been a sharp incursion had become no more than a bump, but the cost had been thousands of lives on each side. Over the next few days new front lines were established and that area of the Western Front resumed its sporadic fighting again.
Lady Agnes returned to her normal duties as an ambulance driver but within a week it was decided as she was also a serving officer, she could not be a civilian VAD. She was transferred to the Queen Alexander’s Imperial Nursing Service as a fully qualified nurse, and an officer. At first all that meant is that she had a different uniform but her duties were the same. As now a military personage in two roles she had to salute, and be saluted, far more often than she had been as a VAD who had no Army status, but she thought it was a joke but to be taken seriously.
Agnes and her fiancé Ernest wrote to each other several times a week. In one of his early letters he had sent her a silver RFC sweetheart brooch which she had worn on her VAD uniform and now next to her pilot’s wings. When Agnes told Ernest she was now a pilot officer in the RFC he was amused. “You will have to salute me, next time we meet.” Ernest wrote. “I might be a Wing Commander by then…”
Agnes was surprised to get a letter from a distant elderly cousin who was an assistant manager at her bankers. He told her she was being paid twice — as a QAINS Officer and an RFC Pilot Officer. He had informed her family’s accountants because there could be tax implications but even both salaries were a very small part of her income.
When the military tailor’s representative made a call, Agnes ordered two sets of RFC service uniform, a dress uniform, and three sets of flying overalls, showing her rank in the RFC. When they arrived, she found the flying overalls useful when driving an ambulance with no windscreen. Wearing her overalls and a leather flying helmet was much more practical than her nurse’s uniform even if some of the less wounded men made jokes about her attire.
Agnes kept an eye of George’s progress as her special patient. He had been shot through both thighs and his right arm but was recovering well. Like Ernest, he found it amusing that Lady Agnes was now a Pilot Officer in the RFC an saluted her every time he saw her, even if he had to do it left-handed at first.
Two months later George, although not fully recovered, was well enough to re-join his squadron. Lady Agnes, dressed in her RFC field uniform, drove him in an ambulance to his base. The journey only took twenty minutes because she now knew the locations of both the base and the dressing station. On arrival, she and George were treated as heroes. Both of them were told they had been recorded as ‘Mentioned in Despatches’. It was over an hour before Lady Agnes could leave again.
When Agnes returned, she was summoned by the medical director.
“Lady Agnes, I informed the senior authorities of your status as an RFC pilot and made a suggestion They have finally agreed. As you know, we sometimes have seriously wounded men who need more treatment than we can provide and we send then by ambulance to the base hospitals at Wimereux.”
“And?”
“Every month we lose a couple who die in transit, shaken up by the bad roads. The suggestion was that some could be sent by air — piloted by you.”
“But the landing could shake then up too…”
“But you are a good pilot. The risks are less. They have found a Short Bomber. They are still in active service but being replaced by Handley Page 0/100s, a much better bomber. The particular Short Bomber has been shot up several times and was almost beyond economical repair but they think, if it is rebuilt and lightened it could be an ambulance plane. The bomb racks, the machine gun, and the gunner’s position will be removed. It could take two or possibly three stretchers and two corpsmen, along with a co-pilot.”
“Three stretchers and four people might be too heavy a load, sir.”
“As the pilot, that would be your decision. The RFC think three is feasible once they have lightened the plane. You will have an RFC co-pilot. Initially that will be George. He is fit to fly but not yet fit for combat as a fighter. Will you do it?”
“Yes Sir, if I have RFC mechanics and suitable landing places here and at Wimereux.”
“I understand that Wimereux has a full scale RFC base with all facilities. Here? An airstrip will be made just for you.”
“OK, Sir. I will try when the airstrip and plane are ready.”
“That should take about a month. Thank you, Lady Agnes.”
+++
Two weeks later Agnes received the letter she had been expecting since the war started. Ernest’s father had written to tell her that Ernest was recorded as ‘Missing in Action, believed killed’. It was on his last sortie as a Squadron Leader before being promoted to Wing Commander. Ernest and his squadron were escorting bombers to attack a German air base when they encountered three German fighter squadrons. Ernest had drawn three Germans away from the bombers, had shot one down before being hit by the other two. His plane was seen out of control and on fire before it dropped behind a ridge. One of the bombers’ crew said he thought Ernest’s plane had straightened out just before it went out of view. No one else saw that but they all saw a thick column of smoke.
That night Agnes cried herself to sleep. She and Ernest had had so little time together since the war started. She had wanted to know him better and if possible marry in about a year’s time. Now that hope was lost with Ernest. She went about her duties as before but with a hollow feeling inside. What had she to live for?
+++
The arrival of the Short Bomber and the recovered George gave her some feelings again. She and George practised take-offs and landings for a few days. The RFC had dropped notes at the nearest German air bases to tell them that Lady Agnes’ plane prominently marked with Red Crosses would be flying to and from Wimereux with injured men, some of whom could be German. A German note in response had been received at Lady Agnes’ base, acknowledging the British one, but surprisingly, including an award of an Iron Cross Second Class for Agnes as recognition of the flying skills and her work with wounded German troops.
George had brought Agnes a ‘mourning’ RFC sweetheart brooch, like the one she already had, but mounted on black petals.
One the first flight with wounded men, Agnes was startled and worried because shortly after take-off a German fighter came to her port side, flying very close. The German pilot held up a thumb and escorted her to the Wimereux approach but within about a mile of him appearing a British fighter arrived on her starboard side. The German pilot peeled off and headed back to the German lines, but the British plane stayed with her until she had landed.
The first two flights with wounded men, Agnes has taken off and landed. Her landings were perfect, so much so that one of the corpsmen was unaware that they had landed until the aircraft stopped.
On the second day, Agnes let George handle the take-off and flight, taking over only to land. On the third day she considered George competent enough to land as well. He wasn’t quite as skilled as she was, but his landings were more than reasonable. After that, they alternated, except that Lady Agnes would take the controls if the weather was bad or if there were strong cross-winds.
After two months of twice daily flights, George was to be returned to his unit as fully fit to fly as a fighter pilot again. After he landed for the final time, he turned to Lady Agnes and proposed. She accepted him, and yet another sweetheart brooch to go with her engagement ring. She was now wearing two engagement rings, Ernest’s and George’s, and two sweetheart brooches, one with the black background.
George was replaced by a trainee bomber pilot, fresh out of training school. It was a fortnight before Agnes would trust him to take-off and another week before his first landing. He was young, to Agnes he seemed impossibly young, but willing and eager to learn. After two months he too left to be replaced by another trainee for Agnes to teach. He was followed by a third trainee and a fourth…
When Agnes had a day off because the weather was just too bad for her to fly she drove over to the RFC base for tea.
“Lady Agnes? We are pleased to see you.” The Commandant said. “Two days ago the Germans dropped another message about you and I can present it now.”
“Present it?”
The commandant called the officers together.
“The German fliers have decided that, because they have received several letters from injured German troops flown by Lady Agnes, that she should be awarded a different medal. Here it is — The Iron Cross First Class.”
He pinned it on her nurse’s cape, next to her RFC wings, the Iron Cross Second Class, and the two sweetheart brooches.
“I don’t know what to say, Commandant.”
“Neither do I. Awarding you, not just one, but two German medals is almost as unprecedented as you being an RFC officer. But you won’t get any British medals, unfortunately, except the general service ones. The higher powers think you are too much of an exception already. But I am sure that you know that I, and all my officers, agree with the Germans.”
Lady Agnes was cheered before she was kissed by George to the sound of more cheers. But she was saddened to see so many faces she had known were no longer there and that the pilots seemed even younger than before. The RFC was losing so many pilots and new trainees either died in the first few weeks of combat or survived for a few months.
In mid 1917 Lady Agnes’ Short Bomber was taken out of service, as were all Short Bombers which were now replaced by the Handley Page 0/100. She was given an early model that had been shot up and needed repair but once airworthy and painted with Red Crosses she could now carry four to six stretcher cases on each flight.
Six months after George has returned to his unit as a fighter pilot Agnes was surprised to see the Base Commandant waiting for her to land, sitting in his Crossley. She expected bad news. It was — the worst. George had been killed in action, crashing about half a mile from his base but already dead, riddled with machine gun bullets before his plane went down.
Agnes had now lost two RFC fiancés, and was numb. But she continued to fly at least twice daily to and from Wimereux.
+++
Three months later, close to Christmas 1917, Agnes received a letter in an unfamiliar handwriting, forwarded from her home in England. She was puzzled. It had been posted three months earlier. It bore the markings of the German Imperial postal service, had been censored in Germany and again in England before being resealed. She opened it very carefully.
She started to cry. It was a letter from Ernest. He had dictated it to a nurse who could speak English. When he had been shot down his plane had caught fire. His hands and face had been badly burned but he had managed a sort of landing and had been pulled out of the blazing wreck by some German soldiers. His burns had meant that he couldn’t see — his eyes were closed by the swelling on his face. He couldn’t speak. His lips were burned too much. He couldn’t write nor feed himself because of the burns on his hands, and all his identity documentation had been lost in the fire. The Germans didn’t know who he was except that he was an RFC pilot.
It took three months before he was able to see and speak but no one around him spoke English and his German was non-existent. After another month he was able to say his name, rank and number but although the Germans had tried to inform the British Authorities that he was now a wounded prisoner of war, that communication had been lost in transit.
He had been able to dictate this letter to a nurse who knew some English and he was beginning to understand and speak some German although speaking anything was still difficult. He had been told by another wounded prisoner that Agnes’ Field Dressing Station had been moved but he didn’t know where she was now so had asked for the letter to be sent to her home.
After the first week his injuries had never been life-threatening but his burns meant that his face was badly scarred and would be for the rest of his life. In the circumstances he would be prepared to release Agnes form their engagement because she would not want to marry a man who no longer looked human.
Those words made Agnes cry again. No matter what he looked like now, Ernest was the man she had been first engaged to, and would always be the man she wanted to marry. She wasn’t going to give him up just because he didn’t look as he had. She suspected that he was minimising his injuries and would need constant care for years. As his wife, assisted by the family servants, she could and would do that for the man she loved. George had also been someone she loved, but only a second best, a very good second best, but not her first love that she thought she had lost forever.
With tears streaming down her face, Agnes took off one of her mourning RFC brooches and replaced it with a plain silver one to show she was engaged still to Ernest.
+++
Three months later the medical director surprised her by asking if she could fly to Switzerland. The Red Cross had arranged an exchange of severely injured prisoners of war. The Germans, French and British would be exchanged at an airfield in Switzerland, close to the French and German borders. As the only pilot flying a Red Cross aircraft, would she do it?
Of course she would. The prisoners would arrive by ambulance train and most would leave the same way, but some, the worst injured, would be better flown from Switzerland.
It took Agnes, with an experienced RFC bomber pilot beside her, a whole day to fly to the French air base closest to Switzerland. The next day she ferried several loads of French injured to the nearest French air base. There were three British wounded and Agnes was ecstatic that one was Ernest. He was startled to find that she considered them still engaged, despite having received several letters from her saying just that. The RFC pilot flew them to the first refuelling stop while Agnes held Ernest’s arm above his burn scars and kissed where she could.
She resumed her pilot seat as Ernest, still drugged with painkillers, slept for almost all the flight to Wimereux where he would be assessed before being sent to a specialist hospital back in England.
+++
Over the next week, while Ernest was in hospital in Wimereux, after every time Agnes landed there and while her plane was being serviced for the return journey, she visited Ernest. He still didn’t believe that she wanted him. Agnes decided on direct action. She got a special licence and an Army Chaplain and married Ernest while he was still in a hospital bed. She told him, forcefully, that all he had to say was ‘I do’ at the appropriate time. The ceremony was attended by the RFC base commander, some of the longer serving RFC pilots and some of the nursing staff. Two days later Ernest was evacuated to a specialist hospital in England, but now as Agnes’ husband.
Agnes continued her duties until the Armistice in November 1918 and was only able to return to England just before Christmas 1918. Her parents’ house had been turned into a nursing home for recovering officers and Agnes was able to arrange for Ernest to come there for Christmas, in between more operations on his hands and face. It was the start of 1920 before Ernest was considered recovered enough to join Agnes as her husband, but she had employed a couple of former VADs to look after Ernest and dress his wounds several times a day. It was 1922 before they could consummate their marriage but Agnes was certain Ernest was worth waiting for…
+++
Author’s note. This story was inspired by my eldest aunt. She was engaged, consecutively, to two RFC pilots during WW1. After the first was killed in action she became engaged to his younger cousin a year later but he too was killed about a month after their engagement. She always said ‘I lost two good ones and those that were left after the war were too damaged for me to consider.” She remained single for the rest of her long life.