14Number 3 ACCS, Brandhoek, Saturday, 18 August 1917
The explosion was close, and Lucy woke with a start. As she pushed the blanket back she heard thuds at the sandbags that ringed the tent. The silence that followed was soon broken by the faint shouts of men and women. Her heart raced as she climbed from her bed and poked her head through the tent flaps.
The day was bright with sunlight, but just a few yards from the line of tents a roiling mass of smoke rose from a crater. Fragments of shell protruded from the sandbags, and she coughed as acrid fumes snaked around the tent.
A couple of orderlies rushed past with a stretcher and she called out, ‘Can I help?’
‘Best thing you can do, Sister, is get down to the shelter,’ one of the men called back.
Earth and flames shot into the air as
