Evie's War by Anna Mackenzie

Fearing that mention of Grandfather’s death might lead us into choppy waters, I instead described the European Tour we had planned. Harry replied that he had never expected to Tour the Continent, and was not sure what he would make of it under current circumstances. On the subject of his own life, he proved rather reticent.
7 April
    Winifred agrees it odd that Harry should have approached me without recourse to Father, and suggests I write to say that any future communication must be directed via Deans Park. As this would risk upsetting Mother, I cannot agree. Further, our conversation was perfectly reasonable and Harry made clear his hope that he might one day establish a rapport with all the family. I do not see such a proposition as overly impertinent, the difference in our circumstances existing through no fault of Harry’s but rather through the choices made by my grandfather. In any case, Harry has asked whether he might write, making me suspect he is lonely. From what little he said I gleaned that he is no longer in contact with his mother’s family.
9 April
    A telegram arrived from Father: Edmund will be home tomorrow prior to embarkation on Sunday night. I shallendeavour to catch an early train down in case we might meet at the Station.
10 April, Deans Park
    In the event Edmund’s train was delayed and we had all gone to bed by the time he arrived. Given the mood in the house is already tense, I have decided against mentioning our half-brother. Together with our cousins we enjoyed a long walk this afternoon, during which my brother spoke of his intention to do his very best by his men.
Sunday 11 April, 1st Eastern
    Rather flat today. Farewelled Edmund at the Station before catching my train to Cambridge. He had asked Mother not to come despite having an hour or more to wait. I was glad Father was with him; they both looked rather bleak as I left.
13 April
    Millie’s birthday. I have bought her a journal, she having expressed great interest at Christmas when she discovered me writing mine.
14 April
    I have two new cases under my care; one an amputee, the other a head wound. Heads are the worst, I think. There is no predicting the outcome, and often there seems no way back.
    Saw the loveliest sight as I walked off my ennui this evening: the fields bordering the River Cam alight with snowdrops. I am quite sure they have appeared en masse overnight; I do not recall them even a day ago.
15 April
    My head case has been moved on. Captain Miller, leg, is determined to engage me for a luncheon date. I have told him it is quite impossible but he does persist.
17 April, Deans Park
    William is grown quite plump. I was thrilled to be the recipient of a broad, toothless grin. Mother is pleased to see me engaged with my young sibling. She dotes, of course.
    I have just caught up with the papers — I haven’t time or energy in Cambridge. The lists of casualties overwhelm.
Sunday 18 April, en route Cambridge
    My train has been stationary for over an hour. Unlikely to be weather at this time of year so I must suppose it to be troop trains passing through. It is tiresome but of course the troops must have priority. I managed to catch Uncle Aubrey alone in his study early this morning, and asked outright about the casualty rates. He blustered, rather, until I mentioned some of my cases, and then, seeing that I had some understanding, he became forthright. Of course we must do all we can to ensure we win, even should that require the Ultimate Sacrifice from so many, but he agreed it is hard for the families of those who have Given Their All, and for those who are returned with limbs missing and so forth. He applauded my efforts in doing what I could and said it would not be long until New Zealand’s Forces were engaged. On that matter he would say no more, except that he had perhaps already said too much. I pledged my discretion and have not said a word even to Winifred, who sits reading beside me.
    I