he First Aid Nursing Yeomanry was on active service soon after War was
declared and, though it is not universally known, they were the pioneers
of all the women's corps subsequently working in France.

Before they had been out very long they were affectionately known as
the F.A.N.Y.'s, to all and sundry, and in an incredibly short space of
time had units working with the British, French, and Belgian Armies in
the field.

It was in the Autumn of 1913 that, picking up the _Mirror_ one day, I
saw a snapshot of a girl astride on horseback leaping a fence in a khaki
uniform and topee. Underneath was merely the line "Women Yeomanry in
Camp," and nothing more. "That," said I, pointing out the photo to a
friend, "is the sort of show I'd like to belong to: I'm sick of ambling
round the Row on a Park hack. It would be a rag to go into camp with a
lot of other girls. I'm going to write to the _Mirror_ for particulars
straight away."

I did so; but got no satisfaction at all, as the note accompanying the
photo had been mislaid. However, they did inform me there was such a
Corps in existence, but beyond that they could give me no particulars.

I spent weeks making enquiries on all sides. "Oh, yes, certainly there
was a Girls' Yeomanry Corps." "Where can I join it?" I would ask
breathlessly. "Ah, that I can't say," would be the invariable reply.

The more obstacles I met with only made me the more determined to
persevere. I went out of my way to ask all sorts of possible and
impossible people on the off-chance that they might know; but it was a
long time before I could run it to earth. "Deeds not words" seemed to be
their motto.

One night at a small dance my partner told me he had just joined the
Surrey Yeomanry; that brought the subject up once more and I confided
all my troubles to him. Joy of joys! He had actually _seen_ some of the
Corps riding in Hounslow Barracks. It was plain sailing from that
moment, and I hastened to write to the Adjutant of the said Barracks to
obtain full particulars.

Within a few days I received a reply and a week later met the C.O. of
the F.A.N.Y.'s, for an interview.

To my delight I heard the Corps was shortly going into camp, and I was
invited to go down for a week-end to see how I liked it before I
officially became a member. When the day arrived my excitement, as I
stepped into the train at Waterloo, knew no bounds. Here I was at last
_en route_ for the elusive Yeomanry Camp!

Arrived a