A week or so into October the stream of casualties began to dwindle. More FANY drivers had arrived from England, lifting the burden of work for those already there. Further north there were signs that the Germans would be making a major withdrawal. Belgian cavalry had broken through in a battle south of Bruges.
But for Grace and her girls another grim week lay ahead, even with more hands to deal with it. "From the 13th to the 19th' she noted "the cars were going all day and half the night.' Trainloads of 700 then 550 to start with. From Tuesday to Thursday evening 3,100 casualties passed through. Sounding a note of almost despair Grace wrote in diary "Shall we ever sleep all night again?"
The Germans pulled out of Bruges on October 20th. Knowing how much Grace wanted to go back into Belgium with a victorious Belgian Army, General d'Orgo, Belgian Area Commander, sent for her and offered her a seat in his car. She accepted with delight.
But as she climbed into the car, it was surrounded by elderly Belgian officers, all desperate to return. Grace could see how sad they all looked, "tears on their war-torn faces" was how she put it. They had been in exile for four long years, their wives and children were in the city, and they were frantic with the desire to return.
"They looked at me with hostile eyes, those old Colonels who had hitherto spoilt me with their courtesy and consideration."
It was an unequal battle, doomed from the moment she studied these old faces. She spoke to General d'Orgo, offering to give up her seat. Perhaps he would give her the necessary Pass, and she could follow up in her own car?
His relief was almost tangible. The Pass was signed and in her hands in minutes. Three of the old soldiers squeezed into her space, unthinkable with a woman. Lined faces, happy now, beamed at her through the windows. She waved to them, and went off to collect her dependable old Unic that she had brought to Calais so long ago.
She and Marples set off in pouring rain. They headed for Dixmude first, eager to visit the old Front Line 'poste de secours' they had known in those reckless, hectic months of 1914.
The roads were worse than ever, from time to time barred by sentries when bridges were down or unsafe, or roads impassable. In the wastes of the old No Mans Land it was dreary and empty, not a soul in sight for long periods. Once, lost, and at a crossroads, they both thought they saw a Nun standing along the road to their right. Turning they drove to where they had seen her, not a sign of anyone. Unable to turn at that point, they decided to keep straight on. They later learned that had they carried on along their first route, they would have almost certainly been killed at a booby-trapped bridge further ahead. Grace never forgot the experience, nor understood it.
They finally hit a main road into Bruges, well maintained, and with signs in German, - 'Nach Bruges' being what they wanted.
The town was swarming with people, shouting, cheering, singing. The Grande Place was a mass of Belgian flags, and people celebrating the departures of 'les sales Boches'.
Their Unic was suddenly surrounded by crowds of laughing, happy women and children. Grace remembers "They were clinging to our hands, patting our cheeks, kissing us, sobbing and smiling together." It was a wonderful feeling, specially for Grace back once more on Belgian soil after so long, among people she loved.
They joined the crowds to watch regiments of the Belgian Army march in, accompanied by a military band. By that time it was getting late, they found a hotel. While banging on the door trying to get in, Marples spotted a man leaping into the Unic. She hurled herself at him and struggled. Grace rushed across and hit him over the head, he broke free and ran off down the street. The Porter who finally opened the hotel door explained there were still many Germans trapped in Bruges, which was why the door was kept shut.
They had had a good day, and it ended better than expected. Grace scribbled in her diary "That night we dined on beefsteak and potatoes and slept peacefully on a soft mattress." They had thought they would be sleeping in the Unic and eating stale sandwiches.
Next day she contacted General d'Orgo and obtained requisition orders to inspect any suitable buildings which would serve as Quarters for the FANY section which was to be based in Bruges. She finally settled on an almost deserted Convent. There was a large dormitory with 20 cubicles well built, and a lavatory at the far end, with three smaller rooms which would do very well as a Mess, an office and a spare bedroom. It had been occupied by German troops, and she was amused to see notices hanging everywhere "GOTT STRAFE ENGLAND'. She wanted one for a souvenir, and was disappointed to find they had all been cleared away when she got back!
Once her selection was approved, it was time to head back to Calais. They decided to go via Ostend, and call in to see the huge German gun at Couckelaere, used to bombard Dunkirk, 30 miles away.
'The barrel was so long" noted Grace "that seven or eight men could sit astride it; the cement flooring was as wide as a dance floor.' The enormous, empty shell cases were lying about, and never one to miss an opportunity, she took one. 'I have it still." she wrote much later "My sister uses it as an umbrella stand!"
Back in Calais the workload had become very much less, plenty during the day, but quiet nights. Orders came through, at last, for Unit 5 to be ready to leave Calais, accompanied by yet another letter of thanks from the Belgian Minister for War. On the night of October 26th fresh orders arrived, five ambulances to proceed to Bruges the next day. It was Bond's birthday party, which ended abruptly, as they all trooped off to the garage to select which vehicles they would take.
For Grace it was 'one of the worst moments I had, - Bruges, I long to take the cars up myself. Only those who have been out there could ever understand the lure of the Front, after all, to be O.C. has its drawbacks. It was my place to stay behind.:
She sent her faithful O'Neill in charge. So it was, by coincidence, that four years to the day that Grace took the first FANY Convoy across the Channel, the first FANY unit went into liberated Belgium. Grace's one regret was that she was not leading it.