Authors: Sue Reid
Today was my first Colonel’s inspection. What a to-do it is – and to think we get put through this every week!
Everything had to be absolutely spotless.
I
thought we already did a thorough job, but this morning I found out what a clean ward really is. The “up” patients lent us a hand, but even with their help, it was a rush to get everything done in time. Five minutes before the Colonel was due, my reddened hands squeaky clean, fresh apron donned, I scurried back into the ward. In front of me, one of our “up” patients ambled slowly across the room to his bed.
Ash was spilling off the end of his cigarette on to the sparkling linoleum. The Colonel would have our guts for this, I thought, despairingly.
A man with bristly ginger hair hauled himself up in bed.
“What do you think you’re doing, Private Barrett?” Corporal Smart wheezed.
“Corporal!” Private Barrett leapt to attention.
“Colonel’s inspection, you dozy soldier!”
“Corporal!”
“At eleven!”
“Corporal!”
“So jump to it, soldier!”
Private Barrett stubbed out his cigarette in the tin hat dangling on the locker by his bed. At that Corporal Smart’s face turned puce! Private Barrett winked at me, and loped off to clean up the mess, the tin hat swinging in his hand.
At eleven o’clock on the dot the big ward doors swung open and in walked the Colonel, escorted by Matron and what seemed to me to be half the hospital staff. The “up” patients stood stiffly to attention in front of their beds. As the Colonel entered, an order rang out and they clicked their heels smartly together. I felt as if I was on parade – not in a hospital ward at all.
I watched as the Colonel stopped at each patient’s bedside; he was listening intently to Matron, but I could tell that he’d miss nothing. I looked round the ward, feeling almost too scared to breathe. The floor shone, but was it really clean? Each bedstead gleamed, but had we polished them thoroughly enough? Each shiny bed castor was lined up with the one next to it. Our sickest patients lay very still under the smoothed-down sheets – they looked almost as scared as me.
The Colonel stopped and ran a white-gloved hand over a locker. We all drew in breath together. The Colonel turned his gloved hand over and inspected it.
My heart began to thump. Almost I felt as if it was
me
who was being inspected.
The glove was spotless, and the Colonel walked on again. It seemed we’d passed – this time.
Private Barrett was discharged back to his regiment this morning. I was sent to the store to get his kit and take back his hospital “blues”.
“Goodbye, Kitten,” he whispered slyly to me as he left. I went beet red. How
did
Private Barrett find out my nickname?
Today we got our first week’s pay. For this we all had to line up at Company Office and one by one we were given our wages.
“Langley,” barked a voice when it was my turn. I stepped forward and something was pressed into my hand. I looked down. £1 didn’t seem a lot for all our hard work, but it was the first money I’d ever earned and I felt quite proud. Not everyone felt the same it seemed, for as we were walking away, I heard a VAD say in a piercing voice, “Oh, I could
never
manage on
this
!
So
lucky that I don’t have to.” I wished she’d stop banging on about it. Not everyone has parents rich enough to send them an allowance. Nurse Mason was standing nearby. Her face was absolutely stony.
So lucky – my half day off and the others are off too! Slept in – bliss! – and then we cycled into town together – Bunty, me, Molly and Marjorie. I asked Nurse Mason if she’d like to come too, but I was quite relieved when she said no thank you, she had a lot to do. I raced along to the dorm, where the others were waiting for me. It was heaven to get away from the hospital and we sang as we cycled along.
It was very quiet in the town. Because it’s on the coast, a lot of the townspeople have left and many of the houses – and a lot of the shops – are boarded up.
After cycling around for a time, we found an ice cream parlour that was still open, and Bunty treated us all to strawberry ice cream. Delish!
We ate our ices sitting on the beach and then I lay back on the warm sand, pillowing my head on my arms.
“So – what’s the verdict?” A shadow fell across my face and I opened my eyes to find Bunty peering at me.
I shut my eyes again. I didn’t feel like talking.
“Come on, Kitten – tell,” Bunty wheedled. “I want to know all about Ward B.”
“Ask Molly,” I said sleepily.
“Is it true that Sister Rook is the most terrifying QA in the hospital?”
“No,” said Marjorie. “That’s Sister Brown.”
“Who’s she?” I asked, eyes still shut.
“She’s the Sister on
my
ward,” said Marjorie.
We giggled and I sat up, hugging my knees.
“I think I’m lucky then,” said Bunty. “Sister Bolton on my ward is sweet.”
“How are you getting on with Nurse Mason, Kitty?” asked Marjorie.
“She’s all right,” I said. “But I wish I was in the dorm with all of you.”
“Kitten,” said Bunty firmly. “I want to know. Do you like being an army nurse?”
“It’s all cleaning, bedbaths and bedpans,” I said. “I’d like to do some
real
nursing.”
“You and your real nursing,” said Bunty. “You’re a VAD, not a trained nurse.”
“I know, I know,” I said, lying back down again. I knew that Bunty was right, but still, I wanted to do more.
Proper
nursing. We cycled slowly back, along the promenade that runs above the beach. While the others rode on ahead I stopped for a moment and stared out to sea. It was another glorious autumn day and the sea looked so calm and peaceful, yet somewhere across that narrow strip of water was our army – the BEF (British Expeditionary Force). Some time soon my brother’s unit would be joining them. Today I found that hard to believe. Even seeing those boarded-up houses hadn’t made the War any more real to me. It seems so very far away – almost as if it’s not really happening at all.
I was in the bath this evening when the alarm bell rang. It was our first air-raid warning.
I leaped out of the bath, pulled on my clothes and hared downstairs. I was terrified – my legs jelly on the stairs, gas mask strapped across my chest, tin hat in my shaking hand. After the Roll had been taken we huddled together in the mess, listening – for what? The drone of an enemy plane flying overhead? A bomb dropping on top of us? We clung on to each other – teeth chattering in chorus.
“Are you frightened?” Bunty whispered to me.
“’Course I am,” I said. “Aren’t you?”
“Terrified,” she said.
It wasn’t long before the all-clear went – false alarm. A big sigh went up round the room.
My teeth were still chattering as we went back upstairs. “Are you still scared?” Bunty asked me.
“I’m cold. I was having a bath when the alarm went.”
“Honest?”
“Honest!”
One of the first things a VAD learns is where the bedpans are kept. This morning, when the cry went up, I dashed as usual into the annexe to fetch one. As fast as I could I pulled screens round my patient’s bed. Next I had to slide the thing under the patient’s body. This is
never
an easy job – you have the pan in one hand, and have to help hoist the patient up with the other. Afterwards, I carefully remove the pan, cover it with a cloth and slowly walk across the ward to the annexe where the pans are cleaned. Only this morning I forgot to cover it! Sister nearly had a fit when she saw me carry the full pan back across the ward.
After that I felt awfully jumpy, and my fingers were all thumbs. This afternoon I dropped the sterile Cheatle forceps on the floor with a clang. Then it took me ages before I got the water the right temperature for a patient’s bath. At that, even nice Nurse Winter lost patience with me. By the time I went off duty I was dog-tired and practically in tears. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sister smiling – actually smiling! – at Nurse Mason.
I looked back as the ward doors closed behind me. Nurse Mason was wheeling the dressing trolley over to Corporal Smart’s bed. I saw her lift the forceps out of the jar. I turned away then. I didn’t want to see any more. I just knew that Nurse Mason wouldn’t drop them
.
Not like me.
I gave myself a bit of a talking-to last night. I have resolved that:
I must not let Sister Rook upset me. She’s right to criticize me when I make mistakes.
I must never forget that I’m here to look after the patients. That’s more important than anything else.
The talking-to seemed to have worked. I didn’t make a single mistake all morning!
My first shift ended at two today and off I went to have my vaccinations. We all have to have these to protect us from serious diseases like smallpox and typhoid. I was back on duty at five, but my arm felt hot and heavy and by six o’clock I was feeling very wobbly. Sister glanced at me, laid a cool dry hand on my forehead, and jabbed a thermometer in my mouth. 100 degrees! She told me to go to bed and to stay there until my temperature had come down. Her voice was unusually gentle. Most surprising.
My temperature was up again this evening. I’m sure that tossing and turning on those awful army biscuits didn’t help.
Something else surprising – Nurse Mason must have brought me a mug of tea. I found it – cold – when I woke up.
My arm’s still rather stiff, but my temperature’s down so it was back on duty for me.
Our youngest QA – Nurse Green – was in such a flap this morning. One of our patients – Private Johnson – was due to be discharged back to his regiment today. Suddenly his temperature shot up. 103!
It was very odd. He’d seemed all right at breakfast. And then I saw the mug of tea on his locker. Of course it was obvious then what Private Johnson had done – he’d stuck the thermometer in the mug of hot tea. It’s an old, old trick. I went up to Nurse Green.
“Nurse Green,” I said shyly, pointing to the mug. “Do you think that . . . maybe. . .?”
She wouldn’t even let me finish. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nurse Langley,” she snapped.
I caught Molly’s eye. Her eyes widened when I pointed out the mug. We grinned at each other, and then I turned back to find Nurse Green glaring at me so I hopped off to my duties.
Sister had popped out, so Nurse Green went to fetch a doctor. It wasn’t Major Roberts who came, it was a tall, young doctor I’d not seen before. He strode up to the bed, looking awfully keen. “A real case for me,” his face seemed to say. It was such a nice face too, I thought.
Nurse Green explained the problem and the MO nodded seriously. He took Johnson’s wrist in his fingers and checked his pulse. Then I watched as he got out his stethoscope to listen to his chest, and then he began to prod and pull Johnson all over the place. He looked very puzzled. He hadn’t seen the mug of tea. I wished I could tell him about it, but I was only a VAD and we VADs are
not
supposed to talk to the doctors.
Johnson just lay there, eyes shut, though I saw him wince once or twice.
Then Sister reappeared, and the MO explained his findings. Sister nodded her head. She looked at Johnson.
“Now, Johnson, what’s all this?” I heard her ask him briskly.
“Oh, Sister, I come over all bad. Very sudden it was,” he said, eyes still firmly shut. Sister nodded grimly and thrust the thermometer back in Johnson’s open mouth. After a minute she took it out and examined it.
“Well, it’s back to normal now,” she said. “You seem to have made an equally sudden recovery.” I saw her reach up to the bedside locker. She picked up the mug.
Sister Rook just looked at Nurse Green. She didn’t need to say anything. Nurse Green got out a handkerchief and pretended to blow her nose, but we could all see how red her face had gone behind it. I looked down at my feet.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Sister Rook said, turning to the MO. The expression on her face was clear enough. Major Roberts would never have made a mistake like that. I felt sorry for the MO then.
Sister Rook pursed up her lips in that way of hers and looked at her patient firmly. Johnson just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. I suppose he’d thought it worth a try.
Nurse Green was on the mat for that, and Sister looked more and more sour as the day went on. It was all “sweep up that fluff!” (there wasn’t any) and “why’s that patient’s sheet not straight?” (it was!). I was very relieved when it was five o’clock and I went off duty.
Bunty and Marjorie were also finishing at five today and they asked me to come into town with them, but my arm was still sore and all I wanted to do was crawl upstairs to bed. It’s all I ever want to do when I go off duty. My arms have sprouted muscles I never knew I had from heaving that bumper about. My feet and back ache constantly from standing all day long. As for my hands – already they’re rough and red from all the washing and cleaning. Sister’s hands are as soft as a baby’s. I don’t know what her secret is but Bunty reckons it’s because she spends more time in the duty room with our MO than on the ward. She says everyone knows that Sister Rook has a soft spot for Major Roberts. That did make us laugh. I even saw Nurse Mason’s lips twitch. If you knew Major Roberts you’d understand why.
I
still
don’t know Nurse Mason’s first name, and wonder if she’ll ever tell me it. She’s awfully proper. We’re all rather in awe of her – even Bunty.
Letter from Anne today! When it was time for my break I settled down to read it.
“Dear Kitten, It’s so awful that you’re down there and I’m up here in Leeds. I do
not
like it here. The hospital’s outside the town, it rains all the time and I don’t know a soul. Food’s awful. Sister’s a little tyrant. We spend most of our time cleaning!”
“Are the rest of the St Jude’s gang there? Remember me to them.”
“Wish I was there – or you here. I miss you so much.”
“Are you keeping up your diary? I am! Please write soon. I want lots of gossip. Better stop now – or I’ll be late for work and Sister will eat me alive.”
I turned the page over. Anne had scribbled a brief PS on the back: “Have you heard from Giles yet? I’ll bet he looks dashing in his pilot’s uniform.”
I
haven’t
heard from Giles yet. Giles is sort of my boyfriend. I met him at a village dance earlier this summer and he told me he was joining the RAF. He wants to train as a fighter pilot. Anyway, he asked if he could write to me and would I write back. I felt very flattered – he’s awfully handsome – and I liked him too, so I said that I would. I wonder when I’ll hear from him. I’ve been here nearly two weeks now and not a squeak from him. I’m beginning to think he’s forgotten me already.