While Boss Franklin, the indomitable Sister Sergeant Wicks, and the others of their small group worked ceaselessly fetching and carrying sick and wounded off the Hospital Trains that arrived hour after hour, Grace made time to contact the Belgian authorities in the port, urging them to fulfil their offer of a hospital for the FANY to run for them.

The Belgians needed little persuasion, but the usual red tape and national jealousies involved seemingly endless discussions with French officialdom, as well as British military and civil authorities. It wasn't easy, but so great was the need as casualties poured in from the Ypres front – 8000 in five days - that even the French gave up on their usual blank, stonewalling tactics without too much of a struggle.

Actually getting possession of the premises, however, was not easy even then. Years later, another author, writing about that time in Calais, recorded that "the FANY were immediately seized upon with enthusiasm, and given an empty school", Grace scribbled crossly in the margin of her copy "ROT! We had to ask and ask."

They were allocated a school, an old, empty Convent School. A huge amount of credulity was required to consider the place as suitable as a hospital, but the saying 'needs must when the Devil drives' was as true then as it is today, and the Devil was surely in the driving seat in the Calais of October 1914.

Forty eight hours of discussion, cajoling, asking, almost begging, - and the Belgian Army was finally able to hand over the shambles that was Lamarck Hospital. Grace and Boss were delighted, as were the FANYs with them. It was theirs, the future was now in their hands.

But, when Grace and Boss Franklin first set eyes upon the Convent, entering the main gateway, it took their breath away. Literally! Immediately in front of them was a long row of latrines. The stench was quite appalling. Cecily Maudant, who had accompanied Grace to Belfast for the meeting with Ulster's Medical Director before the war, noted in her diary that the only way she could describe the smell of the latrines was 'indescribable'!

In her book, Grace remembers that memorable day "when I marched the squad up to the yard to take over. An imposing gateway led into a dirty courtyard, where two long, ungainly buildings lay parallel with each other. Opposite the doorways were rows of latrines, and the odour from these made one shrink back in disgust." Venturing further into the totally unprofessional 'hospital', the enormity of the task ahead of them became only too evident.

The building was already partly operational, run by two Belgian doctors, a Quartermaster, and a few Belgian auxiliary nurses. Grace and Franklin went on a tour of inspection, which did nothing to allay their worries. The 'wards' – schoolrooms – were dirty and untidy. The few patients at that time lay on straw mattresses, or palliasses, on filthy, unswept, littered floors. There were a very few makeshift beds, - wooden planks supported on short iron legs, known as chalets, even more uncomfortable than the palliasses, and as they later discovered, a breeding ground for bed-sores.

In a small room by the front door, opposite one of the 'wards', they found the two doctors, and half a dozen nurses boiling water on a small old-fashioned stove, that resembled a drainpipe. The only other furniture, a wooden table and bench.

Continuing their inspection with some trepidation, they found a small wooden staircase which led to another 'ward'. Here there were 16 patients, some of whom appeared to be very ill. Next to this was another smallish room, equipped with a couple of wooden benches, leading into a third ward. There was another floor above, but they were told not to go there, as the rooms were owned by the ex-Headmistress of the school, who had private rooms downstairs, as well.

To get to the second building, which they were told was empty, the only route was outside and around the courtyard. When they finally got there, they found the same ingrained dirt and general air of neglect and desolation that hung over the whole scene at Lamarck. Grace and Franklin looked at one another, realizing immediately the extent of what lay ahead of them and their small team.

The first priority was to clean the whole place up, from top to bottom. In spite of their frenetic activity of the past 48 hours, there was no hesitation. The 'Band of Hope" straightway buckled down to transforming the place from a refuse tip into a hospital worthy of the name. They didn't think about it at the time, but this 'up Guards and at 'em' attitude to the task ahead was to become an integral part of the FANY character in the years and generations to come.

It is worth bearing in mind the backgrounds of these young women, Grace, Franklin and the rest, all raised in wealthy or certainly well-off families, all with maids and servants who carried out the accepted domestic chores – cooking, cleaning, washing, fetching, carrying. The work that lay in front of them was totally alien to their previous lifestyles. But all had that vital spark within each of them, the strength to cope with whatever their chosen life threw at them. The RAMC Colonel, who less than a week before had been proved so wrong when he queried the ability of their 'soft white hands" to cope with stretcher-bearing, would not be surprised to see them at work now.

Scrubbing brushes, brooms, disinfectant were obtained one way or another, even though it meant digging into the precious £12 'kitty' they had brought with them, all the money they had to see them through those early days. Everyone got involved, - Grace, Franklin, their girls, men dressers, and Grace's brother Bill, - scrubbing walls, floors, tables, seats, stairs. Everyone had a job to do. When the packing cases arrived with the supplies their colleagues in England had got ready, the men carried them inside and emptied them, scrubbed them, adapted them where necessary, and set them up as cupboards in the side room.

The Nurses, led by Sister Wicks, at once attended to the patients, many of whom were badly wounded, two suffering from sceptic pneumonia. These last two had not had their dressings changed for two days, because the Belgian doctors and nurses had decided there was not much hope for them!

Grace and four FANYs scrubbed the upstairs room, and the 'kitchen'. She noted in her diary :" The Belgian orderlies watched us, at first resentfully, then curiously, and at length one came and took my bucket and scrubbing cloth from me, and himself continued washing the floor and stairs". Shortly, others followed his example, finally convinced the 'Eenglish Mees' as they called the girls, could work, and so they would, too!

Between them all they cleaned out the school desks to use as storage places for bandages and dressings. They even carried some of the desks to an empty, upstairs room. Which the FANYs laughingly dubbed 'The Theatre'. Each desk was allocated a particular use – bandages, dressings, iodine chloroform – whatever supplies they could get.

They kept at it all that day, and when, at around 6 o'clock, the two Belgian doctors finally arrived for their evening 'rounds', they were totally amazed and unbelieving at the difference in their hospital.

There was still a huge amount of work and organizing to be done before the place could really be thought of as a Hospital. But, in Grace's own words: "We were exceedingly fortunate, too, in our Belgian Quartermaster." He was kind and helpful, and had spent all that first afternoon directing what staff he had in filling mattresses with fresh straw, and setting up dozens of chalets, this time with mattresses as well to protect the suffering patients. To him, the transformation of the place was a wake-up call, and from that time on he was a tower of strength. Grace wrote later: "To him I went in despair over the question of cooking". He looked her in the eye, a half-smile on his face. "Mademoiselle" he said "tout est possible."

He was as good as his word. Within a couple of days the almost bare, and depressing 'kitchen' was equipped with a cooker, tables, chairs, plates, cups, cutlery, and – perhaps most useful of all – a great cauldron for boiling water, so essential for maintaining hygiene and cleanliness.

Again, making use of old packing cases and boxes, makeshift cupboards were constructed, and such bed linen and 'bed' shirts for the patients that were available, were neatly stacked and labelled.

By this time, under the watchful eyes of both Grace and Boss, the whole atmosphere of the place had changed. All were working together, with infectious enthusiasm, - FANYs, the team they had brought with them, the Belgian auxiliaries and orderlies. They all had a common purpose, to get the hospital up and running properly as soon as possible, and provide the best service for the sick and wounded. Grace expressed her feelings at the time, - and frequently the same sentiment in the years ahead - "All we could spare went to our blesses, and overtime was never thought of. Somebody was ill, and that meant a night on duty to follow a hard day's work, but that was nothing. To us all, War spelled work, and work spelled war; and we never looked beyond."

This was the sort of dedication Grace fostered in her FANY, and it was the kind of dedication the FANY gave freely and cheerfully, under all conditions. It was this attitude of single-minded commitment to their patients that endeared them to all units of any of the Allied armies that they came in contact with, and drew their respect throughout those years. To the Band of Hope and the many others who followed on, and toiled in Lamarck Hospital, it was always referred to with nostalgic affection and a touch of dry humour, as "dear, dirty old Lamarck'!