It was just as they were walking up from the post-office that they noticed that everyone in the school grounds seemed to be gravitating towards the main hall. John called out to one boy, who told them that an impromptu assembly had been called, and that all the boys were to attend.
'Coming,' said John, pulling off his coat and straightening his clothes. Sherlock imitated him and followed.
The hall was already mostly full, and Sherlock and John found seats on the unpopular front row, next to a smattering of teachers. The headmaster, who normally led assemblies, had not yet appeared. John furrowed his brow and murmured: 'I wonder what this is about?'
He often asked Sherlock such questions, knowing that the other boy had more often than not worked out what was going on; Sherlock merely shrugged, and said that perhaps there was to be some talk on air raid safety.
At last the headmaster appeared, and everyone fell silent.
'Good morning, everyone,' he said. 'Thank you for coming this morning. I'm sorry to have called you all together at such an inconvenient time. I hope you are all well after last night; it is partly on the subject of last night that I wish to speak to you.
'You are probably aware that London has experienced some severe bombing by enemy aircraft. The number of casualties is still uncertain, but the destruction is immense. A moment of silence, then, for all those suffering in our capital –'
The boys hardly dared to breathe during this minute or so of absolute quiet; all of them were stifled by emotion, even Sherlock, whose reaction to John's panic and subsequent relief seemed to have excited his entire self. At length the headmaster spoke again.
'I have been in contact for several weeks with many different organisations in the capital and elsewhere, and, following the events of the night, I have confirmed a decision to offer some of this school building as an overflow hospital for civilian and military casualties. We shall receive a number of those in the medicinal profession, whom we shall house for the most part in the masters' quarters. The sick-bay and the gymnasium will be used for casualties. If you yourselves should require attention by the nurse, she will now receive you in her house, which is in the village, unless it is an emergency.
'This will of course be a chaotic time for the school, but I hope you appreciate what an important role we shall play in this time of war. Anyone who wishes to volunteer to help should speak to me or to the nurse.
'Thank you.'
The music-master, who had been seated by the piano, then struck up the National Anthem, and the boys sung with rather more passion than usual before filing silently out of the hall. Sherlock and John headed to their dormitory, the former to read, the latter to write a couple of letters.
'You should volunteer,' Sherlock said almost straight away on leaving the hall.
'Volunteer?... Why?'
'Well, you want to be a doctor, don't you?'
John flushed very slightly. 'I don't know... I might do. How do you know that?'
'I didn't know it, I deduced it,' replied Sherlock in that annoying manner of his.
'I might volunteer,' said John thoughtfully. 'I'll go to the nurse – tell her I'm interested. What do you think we'll have to do?'
'Act as messengers, I imagine,' said Sherlock. 'It would be good experience.'
'You could volunteer with me,' suggested John.
Sherlock looked somewhat horrified. 'Me? Volunteer for a hospital?'
'Maybe not then,' said John, grinning a little. Caring for and reassuring injured people, indeed even running errands out of the goodness of one's heart, didn't match Sherlock's personality in the slightest, and he couldn't imagine the other boy doing any of those things.
'I think I'll pass on that one,' Sherlock said, and went back to his dormitory even as John headed off in search of the nurse.
Dear Harry,
Our school's been turned into a hospital! Well, not all of it, just the sick bay and the gym. The first casualties came yesterday. It was a bit horrible to see them – some of them are people who were injured in the bombing, and some are army men who've been invalided home. I've volunteered to help. (Sherlock hasn't, naturally.) I was allowed to shadow one of the doctors, and it was actually really interesting but a bit harrowing to be honest. There was one man who had been shell shocked. He was perfectly fine except when there were loud noises. Then there was a man who had been shot in the shoulder – his wound had actually mostly healed because they had managed to get the bullet out pretty quickly, but for some reason he was convinced he'd been shot in the leg.
Then there were the patients who were probably going to die... I'm sorry, Harry, this probably isn't a nice letter to read. You probably wonder why I've decided to do all this. It's because I wanted to help, and because I quite want to be a doctor when I'm older. I thought that this experience might put me off, but it's only encouraged me. It's not the most pleasant of professions, but it's so interesting and really satisfying when you help someone and they heal and they smile so widely and thank the doctors who treated them.
Did you hear about the raid last night? Sherlock sent another telegram to Father – he keeps doing that; I feel so guilty about spending all his money – and he's fine. I suppose he would be – he's not often in London, driving trains.
How are things with you? I hope you're well. I hope your friends are all right too.
John
Dear John,
I'm fine, and so are my friends, thank you.
My school's a hospital too! Well, it's probably smaller than yours, but we have a few injured soldiers in the gym. What you're doing sounds really interesting – and it's similar to what Molly's doing. She's volunteering too. I told her about what you said and she said that she felt the same way, though I'm not sure she wants to be a doctor, more a biologist. She says it's a shame Sherlock couldn't be a volunteer as well. She seems to have a higher opinion of Sherlock than most people. She's only met him once. It's weird.
We keep having to go down to the air raid shelter. It's horrible down there but it's definitely necessary. I'm so glad we're out of London though. It sounds horrible there. Clara had a friend of a friend who was killed the other day when her house was bombed. Apparently they didn't manage to get to the shelter in time. It's horrid. There have been so many pictures in the paper – I suppose you've seen them – a lot of the girls can't bear to read the newspaper any more.
I hope you're well! And Sherlock too! He sounds as if he's much the same as ever. You need to get him out of his shell a bit.
See you at half-term, I hope! There's another cricket match between our school and yours! We'll beat you this time, I just know it!
Harry
'Molly wants you to be a volunteer,' John said in an offhand kind of manner, looking up from Harry's letter towards Sherlock, who was lying on his bed reading the book about forensics that he had borrowed again from Greg Lestrade.
'What does Molly care what I do?' said Sherlock, yawning.
John shrugged and grinned a little. 'I think she quite likes you.'
'She's only met me once.'
'She'll see you again, at half-term,' said John. 'She'll be coming over for the cricket-match.'
'Oh God, not again,' murmured Sherlock.
John laughed. 'It'll be fine. She just wants to be friends. You need friends.'
'No, I don't.'
'Yes, you do.'
'One's quite enough.'
They held each other's gaze for a moment, and then both of them looked away. It was an argument that neither could win, and a quandary that John still hadn't the least idea how to solve.
'Anyway, half-term's weeks off yet,' said John. 'Plenty of time to prepare to meet people.' He winked.
Sherlock just grunted and went back to his book.
