For months, as 1917 drew to a close, the hospital at Binson had gone from strength to strength. Cole-Hamilton and her team had done an amazing job. Now completely unrecognizable from the filthy, scruffy shambles the FANY had inherited from the French, it was held up as a role model for other French Military Hospitals.

Inspections by French Medical Brasshats were frequent, and were routinely accompanied by plaudits and congratulations.

The hospital was an inspiration, the staffing exemplary, and the French were apparently delighted. So much so, that at the end of 1917 Grace was informed that the SSBM – the French Red Cross - had decided that Binson would become a major medical centre for the area, or Triage, as they called it. This was a great boost to FANY morale, and a landmark in their approval ratings from the French.

Their representatives met with Grace and Coley in January 1918, asking for a significant increase in personnel. Grace, full of excitement, and delighted at the turn of events, at once set off for London to arrange recruitment.

Ten days later a brief, matter-of-fact letter to the FANY was handed to Cole-Hamilton. In it they were bluntly informed, that in view of the proposed expansion, the French Red Cross, the SSBM, had decided to take over the whole project themselves, and staff it with French nurses. The FANY were given a month to organize their departure!

And that was that.

After all the praise they had received this was a doubly unexpected blow, well below–the –belt. It was hard to take after all the effort they had put in, not to mention money, and supplying so much new equipment – beds, bedding, medical supplies of all kinds.

Every FANY who had been involved was not only shaken to the core, but furious with the French for the way it was done. It was just another of the unfathomable decisions for which the French had become notorious among the Allies. Perhaps their strong sense of national pride had been dented by the transformation at Binson.

Whatever their reasons, without discussing the matter with anybody concerned, doctors, orderlies, patients – let alone the FANY themselves – the decision was made. It was not up for discussion. French nurses would be taking over. When the French patients were informed, there was genuine shock and disappointment, many of them begging the FANY to stay.

Perhaps one of the saddest consequences was the departure of Coley. She took the sudden, abrupt change of direction as a direct slur against her personally, and her management of the hospital. She also felt it was a direct affront to the FANY Corps itself, of which she was very proud.

One month after being handed the curt little note, she handed over the keys to a token delegation of French nurses, and departed, not only from Binson, but from the FANY Corps itself.

Before she left, both she and Grace were Guests of Honour at a dinner given by the French doctors at the hospital. The doctors and patients clubbed together to present the Corps with a magnificent silver tea service. Grace and Coley were both presented with silver medals by the SSBM, as a mark of appreciation for all they had done.

Grace was used by now to projects closing as situations changed, but found it hard to forgive the French for this stab in the back, as she regarded it. However, she shrugged it off, and as usual concentrated on finding new outlets for her girls. She was able to expand Units 6 and 7 along the Marne, and during December had laid the foundations for a new unit, 9, at Chalons sur Marne.

However, as a result of this much increased FANY commitment to the French convoys, the French introduced some changes to their administration. They insisted on a complicated system of attachments to what they called Sections Sanitaires, with a French Officer in charge of each section. They also wanted a FANY officer in overall charge of all FANYs working for the French, with whom they could deal directly. Grace and Franklin were asked to nominate someone.

Grace was an obvious candidate, and very tempted. She told her children in later years how she went through a deal of soul-searching. There would be greater scope with the French, but she still felt immense loyalty to the Belgians, who had done so much for them.

"It was the Belgians that gave me my chance, & accepted the FANY in 1914, when neither the British nor the French would place us. I had shared their retreat and their struggle, and longed to be with them in their hour of triumph."

And that was her decision, despite Doris Allen writing to her; "We shall all be delighted if you come to the French. You have worked long and hard enough for the Belgians, and I don't think you need mind leaving them now. You cannot possibly do more for them than you have done."

Grace finally remained committed to the Belgians, and it was Doris Allen herself that both Franklin and Grace confirmed as head of the French sections.

She was shortly to be stretched to the limit, as the German Army broke through along the Marne Valley, in their final great offensive of the War. Allen and her teams were to become involved in the frenzied evacuation of hospital after hospital in the path of the German successes.

Parallel with these changes, a proposal for a new British convoy came to fruition. It had been launched some time before by Franklin and Grace, for a new convoy to be established near British Army HQ at St. Omer.

The negotiations, as usual, had been protracted, complicated, difficult, and involved overcoming many deeply entrenched objections to women doing men's jobs. This in spite of the freely acknowledged success of the FANY convoy, Unit 3, in Calais.

Finally agreement had been reached, and the new Unit 8, St Omer, was established. It's commander was an amateur ex-racing driver, Muriel Thompson. This convoy adopted as its emblem a 'tail-in-the-air' red herring, as a result of speech made by Surgeon General Woodhouse to a group of FANYs. Commenting on their strong independence as a distinct unit, yet working for and under such a variety of larger official military organisations, he told them "'Pon my soul! You are neither fish, flesh nor fowl; but, if I may say so, you are thundering good red herring!."

And thus they remained.

A new Unit serving their own men, close to British Army HQ. Franklin and Grace and everyone else agreed it had to be really good. Drivers were hand-picked from among the girls with hard-earned experience in the heavily bombed streets and docks of Calais. They were determined not to be found wanting. Nor were they, when sorely tested just weeks later.

While all this was going on, yet another readjustment was inflicted by the BRCS, a sensible one, as it happened. In the same way as the French had insisted that a senior FANY be appointed in overall command of all French-attached FANYs, so the BRCS demanded a FANY 'Supremo' for all those working for the British Army, through them.

There was one obvious candidate- Lilian Franklin. She had long, hard experience running Lamarck hospital in beleaguered Calais, then so successfully commanding the first FANY ambulance convoy for the British, Unit 3. She was particularly remembered for her conspicuous bravery when the ammunition dump at Audricq was blown up. She was unanimously elected by a committee of senior FANYs. Her group was known as FANY (English Section.)

It was the turn of the Corps to make some administrative changes themselves. The French and Belgian Convoys were banded together under the title of FANY (Allied Section), and another obvious leader was ready and waiting – Grace.

From then on, Grace and Franklin were officially Co-Commandants of the Corps. There were changes, too, at HQ in London, designed to deal with the new Field arrangement. Janette Lean, who had resigned after losing her battle with Grace almost a year before, now returned as Secretary (English Section). 'Andy' Anderson, who had so distinguished herself running the Foyer de Soldats at Fismes, then as Quartermaster at newly-acquired Binson Hospital, took on the post of Secretary (Allied Section).

On this new solid foundation, the Corps entered 1918. the final year of the war, ready for anything. It was just as well, because in that first half of the year ahead they would face the most desperate, dangerous and stretching time they were ever likely to experience.