The Dead Nurses' Society

     The men and women who died on military service during the First World War are invariably  the group who attract the most publicity, most column space in newspapers and by far the most mentions on the web. Maybe that's understandable, not only because of the emotions that death during wartime arouses in people, but also because they are so much easier to research. Their names are on war memorials nationwide and the majority of those names are listed on the database of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. With a couple of clicks it's possible to find relatives or local men and women who died while serving their country between 1914 and 1921. Their names truly 'Liveth for Evermore'.

     However, most of those who served their country didn't die but returned home again to take up employment, to marry and to prosper, or possibly to suffer from the effects of war throughout their lives, blighting their happiness. The majority of women were employed on the Home Front and although their work might have been demanding and stressful it rarely put them in immediate danger, though I must exclude munition workers here who often worked under dangerous conditions and who history has chosen to sideline more than any other group of women. The figures I'm using as examples are just a rough estimate but hopefully serve to make a point.

     Between 22,000 and 24,000 trained nurses served with Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Service, it's Reserve and the Territorial Force Nursing Service. The lack of service records in the public domain makes an exact figure impossible to estimate. The number of untrained nurses - members of Voluntary Aid Detachments -  is even more difficult to work out. They included not only VADs who performed nursing duties but also General Service VADs who from 1917 worked as drivers, orderlies, waitresses, clerks, typists, and store-women in military hospitals. Then there were the members of War Hospital Supply Depots whose work involved the sewing of garments, the preparation of dressings and packing of stores and comforts for distribution both at home and abroad. Together the Red Cross workers are likely to have totalled well in excess of 100,000.  If you include nurses working in the military wards of civil hospitals the total figure for nursing staff engaged in caring for military personnel during wartime is likely to have totalled more than 150,000. In addition to these it's believed that nearly a million women were working in engineering and munitions.

     Of this multitude of women workers, only a tiny percentage died during wartime, less than 1% of the total - and of those, very few deaths actually resulted from war service. Most died due to illness or disease that would have proved fatal in any conditions, such as influenza, pneumonia, diabetes, gastric ulcers and cancers of many types. Dead women are now 'celebrated' on websites such as Facebook where many pages are dedicated to women who served during the First World War.  But far from remembering them all, these pages are frequently crammed with information solely on those who died and resulting in bland, throwaway comments such as 'RIP,' and of course, 'We will remember them.' No, I don't think you will - another couple of days and you'll have trouble remembering what you ate yesterday and certainly not the names or causes of death of women whose pictures you briefly looked at. Photos of headstones on Twitter may tell us a woman died, but say nothing about the work she did and what her life was like.

Victory Parade, London, July 1919.  They lived!  They lived!

     Why, why, why can't we celebrate what nurses DID during the war without this mawkish tendency to concentrate almost exclusively on the tiny percentage who died?  After all, they're all dead now, and  deserve the same respect and remembrance. Make nurses famous for their deeds, their endeavour and their dedication, not just famous for dying.

Nurses and Bravery - two years on

Two years ago I wrote about nurses being regarded as 'brave' for their work during wartime and suggested that they were many other things above 'brave.'  Since then, with the coming of the Centenary of the First World War, a great deal more has been written about nurses, mainly untrained VADs, and the concept that nurses were angels and heroines has become a strong thread running through their stories in books, the popular press and on television.  So two years on I'm taking the liberty of repeating my thoughts of August 2013 on what motivated nurses to engage with the war and where bravery stood on their list of attributes. 

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     I've always had quite strong views on Great War nurses being described as angels and heroines, and the assertion that they were all  'brave.'  So I was interested in a thread on Twitter which went as follows:

Tweeter A.  Army Nurse Corps took hot water bottles to bed with them then made tea with that hot water next morning!
Tweeter B.  Some WW stories would be amazing to collate a brave history that we are loosing [sic] day by day
Tweeter C.  Perhaps bravery comes behind professionalism, stoicism, determination and skill
Tweeter A.  Bravery, the right choice under terrible circumstances, against all odds.

     Obviously A. felt that brave was the best word to describe these military nurses but it made me think again about war, nurses, and bravery. The early 20th century was a time when British nurses were fighting to have their qualifications officially recognised through a process of registration, to ensure that poorly trained and inexperienced women could no longer pass themselves off as fully-trained nurses. Many of them relished the chance that war gave them - to know that they would at last have a platform to show off their skills in a public and wide-ranging manner - the eyes of the nation and the wider world were on them as they were released from the anonymity of their peacetime role.

     I doubt if they were thinking about being brave when they first put on their new uniform and entered the doors of a military hospital. More likely they were thinking about being tested in a strange environment; about what skills they would need; how this new experience would give them an advantage in years to come as they climbed the nursing ladder. They must have wondered who would be working alongside them? Would there be any familiar faces from their training days? Would their pay and conditions be comparable to what they were already getting and would Army discipline defeat them? And when a few months later they added their names to the list of those wishing to go on active service overseas, did they do it because they were brave? I suggest that most of them were desperate to get nearer the action; to feel closer to their brothers, fathers and friends who were already abroad; to grasp the opportunity to visit places and see things they had never contemplated before. Nursing in France had an urgency and importance about it which was lacking in home hospitals - it made them special. And they wanted to be seen as special.

     They knew how hard the work could be - the rushes, the pushes, the pauses; the long hours and early mornings; the boring patches and the restrictions.  They knew that if they asked to be considered for duty nearer the front, at a casualty clearing station, they were nearer the guns, nearer danger, nearer the most badly wounded men. Did they go because they wanted to be brave?  My view is they went because they wanted to make a difference, and to be seen as making a difference.

     One of the few nurses who died as a result of enemy action is universally described as 'brave.'  Nellie Spindler died in her bed, while sleeping, the result of a shrapnel wound during an enemy bombing raid on her casualty clearing station. Can 'brave' be the best word to describe her? Unlucky, certainly, but hardly brave.

     There were nurses of all sorts, good, indifferent, and some very bad - bad behaviour, poor nursing skills, lack of tact, no sense of discipline. They were not all heroines, and of course, none of them were angels. Angels don't actually exist and trained nurses are very much of the real world. While there were undoubtedly individual acts of bravery by nurses during the war, it was not the lot of the majority. When they were in dangerous and difficult situations, being bombed or shelled or retreating with the enemy at their heels, they relied on their long experience, their skill, their confidence, determination, dedication and fortitude, and on an instant learnt response to emergencies. I would still say that all these came before bravery.

The VAD - For Better or for Worse

VADs at Royal Naval Hospital, Chatham [IWM Q18925]

 

     The centenary of the start of the Great War has brought with it many projects associated with hospitals active throughout the United Kingdom at that time providing care for sick and wounded soldiers. Almost all of these centre on the small auxiliary hospitals which were opened and run under the auspices of the Joint War Committee of the British Red Cross Society and Order of St. John.  In the main these hospitals were staffed by members of Voluntary Aid Detachments (VADs) the majority untrained or partly trained nursing assistants who had little pre-war experience of having to work outside the home and a minimal, if any, background in nursing.  They were supported by other volunteers who helped with housekeeping duties and by male orderlies who provided ambulance and other transport services and night staff for the hospitals.

     The VAD has become the Florence Nightingale of the Great War; all things to all men, beautiful, caring, patriotic and devoted to the cause of healing. I'm trying to think whether I've ever seen mention of one who was plain, unintelligent, lacking in common sense, rude, disrespectful or just plain hopeless.  Actually I have, mainly in reports on their work and behaviour by trained military nurses, but to cast a slur on this icon of womanhood might not go down too well ... well, just one little mention maybe ...  In a report on a VAD from the Matron of No.1 Southern General Hospital, Birmingham, under 'Nursing Capabilities' is written:

Have seen no evidence of any.  She is lazy, very noisy, and has very little idea of discipline.  Talks a great deal. 

     Needless to say, her contract was not renewed. But this type of comment is not uncommon among the VAD service files which still survive at The National Archives. My point is that it's neither accurate nor productive to constantly paint VADs as perfect women. They were not. They were young women from a variety of backgrounds and life experience and with very differing personalities. Most had no nursing experience, nor would they have ever considered nurse training in peacetime.  Only a very tiny number went on to train as nurses after the war, with those that had to earn a living finding employment they considered more suitable to their social station, such as medicine, teaching, public health and social work, and infant welfare. Marriage became by far the most popular post-war occupation.

     The VAD was essential to the running of the nursing services during wartime; she had her place; she did her best though it must be faced that in some instances that was not quite good enough.  She was not the universal panacea that cured all men and all ills. She simply played her part alongside the tens of thousands of experienced doctors and fully-trained nurses, the administrative staff, the clerks and secretaries, male ambulance workers, orderlies and many more. Maybe during the next four years she deserves a little bit less of the limelight and should move over a pace or two to let some of the others stand in the spotlight.

Women Heroes of World War One

WOMEN HEROES OF WORLD WAR 1

Sixteen Remarkable Resisters, Soldiers, Spies, and Medics

Kathryn J. Atwood

     I found a lot to interest me in this book.  Although intended for the 'young adult' market, I think that description does it a disservice.  With the centenary of the Great War prominent in the United Kingdom and other parts of Europe there is increasing interest in the period among ordinary people, previously neither historically nor academically inclined.  Kathryn Atwood's well researched book gives a factual and straightforward account of sixteen women whose names are unknown to most, written in a relaxed style and uncomplicated language.

     Divided into 'bite-sized' pieces, it can read as a whole or dipped into for information on a particular individual or area. The choice of subjects is wide-ranging and covers spies, resisters, medical staff, journalists and soldiers.  Although many names will be unfamiliar, the stories are compelling and there is a great deal to be learnt about the enormous scope of women’s work during wartime, elsewhere usually confined to a handful of high profile women, organisations and services.   Background information, extra notes and suggestions for further reading are included with each chapter, making it simple to find out more about areas of personal interest.

     The stories act as a reminder to the island nation which is the United Kingdom of how lucky we are not to have suffered enemy invasion during the twentieth century, and how easily our own women could have been in a similar position to the spies and resisters of France and Belgium. Much emphasis has been laid on Edith Cavell in the past but this book makes it clear that many more women were also involved in patriotic espionage and suffered a similar fate.  I would definitely recommend the book as suitable for both young and old alike.


Publisher: Chicago Review Press, 2014
ISBN-10: 1613746865
ISBN-13: 978-1613746868

Back to Blighty, but Which Hospital?

I often get asked how and why an individual man ended up in hospital many miles from home rather than a local unit, and here are a few reasons and pointers, though certainly not the complete picture

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     It's highly unlikely that any decisions were made overseas about a patient's destination once back in the United Kingdom except perhaps for a few senior officers, nurses and other women who had special accommodation set aside in London.

     The port of departure, and thus arrival in the UK, would depend on the position of the overseas Base Hospital, which in itself may have been a random choice initially. As the war progressed, specialist units were set up to treat various classes of illness and wounds, and that would have been a deciding factor in the fate of some men on arrival. There was also an enormous concentration of beds in London, Manchester and Birmingham and the chances of being treated in one of those areas was high. There was always a likelihood that men from London or Manchester would end up near home, just by chance.

     Although I have read accounts of men being purposely sent away from home to prevent hospitals being over-run with visitors, it seems that this was never the intention. By September 1914 there were three main aims when men arrived back wounded in the UK – to give priority to those most seriously injured, to clear beds in the largest hospitals as quickly as possible to make room for new arrivals and to ensure that the men were transferred between medical facilities as few times as possible.

     For men disembarking at Southampton, the most serious cases were transferred to the Royal Victoria Hospital, Netley and the Southampton War Hospital, the latter soon earning the reputation of being one of the busiest and 'heaviest' hospitals in the country. From Dover, the sickest men were found accommodation in London. Men needing specialist treatment were separated out and given some priority to admit them to a unit which suited their needs. Lightly wounded men and the walking wounded were often the ones chosen to do the longest journeys and therefore more likely to end up in cities such as Plymouth or Aberdeen.

     Apart from the worst cases the men would be found a place on the next available train whatever its destination – there seemed to be little question of a Highlander turning down the 16.00 to Waterloo because he’d rather wait for the 19.30 to Glasgow. Because men were often wounded in large actions it follows that men of the same regiment would frequently be wounded, treated and evacuated together, and find their way back to England if not ‘en masse’ then certainly in tens, dozens and scores. So it was not surprising that, for instance, fifty Scots ended up in No. 2 Eastern General Hospital at Brighton and fifty Royal Sussex men in Manchester – often it was just the luck of the draw.

     As the war progressed the pressure on beds became more severe and it was even more difficult to find accommodation than previously. However, as there were more trains there may have been several waiting at Southampton and Dover at any one time and always the chance of different outcomes, but it’s said that even the men themselves were often reluctant to make a decision about destination.  Where was nearer, where was more exciting, where were their friends going; where would the soldier from Cornwall choose when he was in the West Yorkshire Regiment and most of his friends were going north? The vast majority of officer beds in the UK were in London, so an officer was very likely to be accommodated there, at least initially, wherever his home was. As the war progressed there were other important decisions to be made about special categories of patient.

     Before the ‘average’ man could be moved, account had to be taken of mental patients, neurological patients, those with venereal disease, enteric fever and dysentery, serious orthopaedic cases, cardiac and rheumatic conditions, eye and facial injuries - an ever lengthening list.  Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders and South Africans also had to be filtered off to their own hospitals and the movement of patients soon became a very intricate and complicated process which didn't always allow a free choice of destination. Where this was impossible, facilities were put in place for seriously ill men who were going to be in hospital for a long time to be moved nearer home when their condition was stable. If a man was expected to be in hospital for more than three months there was a high chance that arrangements would be made for him to be transferred to a hospital in his home area – these transfers were often long-distance, and carried out by fitting extra patients into existing ambulance train journeys.

     Throughout the war the pressure on beds was always enormous and all Home Commands were instructed to expand their hospitals to the fullest limit.  Of course this ‘fullest limit’ was never enough, and the number of beds was still increasing in October 1918. The expansion of the auxiliary hospitals and convalescent homes meant that most soldiers would eventually be transferred out of the main hospital, and this was most likely to be to a facility affiliated to that hospital, and therefore in the same locality.  Initially he bed state nationally was being updated weekly and later on twice weekly but as the situation became critical it was done on a daily basis. At time of the Armistice available beds nationwide stood at approx 364,133 and included 18,378 for officers. Between autumn of 1917 and beginning of 1918 the usual daily occupancy was 317,000.

I'm sure there must have been many a bright young ‘walking wounded’ who, seeing more than one train drawn up in front of him, found some way of making a choice but it was really a question throughout of squeezing casualties in anywhere that had enough room to take them – choice would have put an impossible burden on a massively overstretched system.

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The Blue Plaque Has Finally Arrived

Six years ago I contacted English Heritage to propose a Blue Plaque to commemorate Dame Maud McCarthy, Matron-in-Chief in France and Flanders during the Great War. There are so few public tributes to women who served during that period and the trained nurse has fared badly compared to her untrained VAD colleague - anonymity has become her place in history. So by remembering Dame Maud, the Plaque is also a symbol of remembrance for the thousands of nurses of all grades who served under her during her five years in wartime France.

Yesterday was the final step of the journey - the unveiling ceremony at her former home, 47 Markham Square, London, S.W.3, where she lived between 1919 and 1945. As might be expected, all the arrangements were beautifully organised by the Blue Plaques team at English Heritage, and even the weather was smiling. There were a number of speakers and the proceedings started off by Professor Ronald Hutton on behalf of English Heritage. Professor Christine Hallett talked about Dame Maud's professional life and her work during the Great War, and a great-niece, Jennie Newman, related some family memories of a purposeful and unique lady. There was a very strong military presence in Chelsea yesterday evening, with many current day members of Queen Alexandra's Royal Army Nursing Corps and the Territorial Army, the two sister services of which Dame Maud McCarthy was so influential in her time. The Plaque was unveiled by Colonel David Bates, ARRC, the current Director of Army Nursing Services and Matron-in-Chief. When I spoke to him afterwards, we both rolled our eyes at the thought of how Dame Maud would have regarded the prospect of a man ever doing her job - presumably inconceivable in her time.

After the ceremony we were all invited to join the residents of Markham Square at their annual summer gathering, and I must extend grateful thanks to Penelope Russell, who has allowed her home to become subject to a round of upheavals in the long and arduous Plaque process, and also for her hospitality to a raggle-taggle group of guests and visitors - except of course for members of the British Army, who were definitely not 'raggle-taggle'.

Professor Ronald Hutton starts the proceedings

Colonel David Bates before the unveiling

Colonel Bates pulls the string ...

The Photo-Sergeant - didn't look a man to mess with

Thanks from the Chairman of the Markham Square Residents Association

Me and my daughter Hannah with Colonel Bates on her head!

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The 'Volunteer Nurse'

     With the screening of 'The Crimson Field' on TV, there seems to have arisen some confusion over the 'Volunteer Nurse.' This morning I came across a newly-published edition of Olive Dent's book 'A VAD in France,' first published in 1917 by Grant Richards, and for some years available in new editions or as a free download from the web.**   I was rather shocked that not only is it being promoted as some sort of spin-off from 'The Crimson Field' complete with a cover illustration strongly suggestive that its contents are related, but that the original title has been changed to suit the publisher. It seems an incredibly arrogant stance for a publisher to take, and I have to wonder whether they think the change in title will fool the unwary into believing that it's a different book to the one that can be found free elsewhere. At the very least it shows dishonesty and a complete lack of integrity.

A Volunteer Nurse on the Western Front

     But back to the 'Volunteer.'  When women joined a Voluntary Aid Detachment in the United Kingdom, they received no pay, but were provided with board and lodging if working away from home. When they went overseas, the majority found themselves in a very different position. VADs who worked overseas in British hospitals under War Office control were paid. They received a basic salary of £20 a year, with extra allowances which were extremely generous, and in total added up to more than £115 a year in payment or in kind. It put their annual salary on a par with, or above, many women workers in the UK. To imply that they were working as 'angels and heroines' for nothing is entirely wrong. In the recently published 'Dorothea's War,' the wartime diary of VAD Dorothea Crewdson,* she was constantly surprised at the size of her monthly pay-packet. On the 4th August 1915 she wrote in her diary:

Pay night and we have all received a monstrously and wonderfully large sum of money … The Sisters of course have different pay and more of it. We all feel robbers of the Matron as our salary for the month comes to more than £10 and we only expected £20 a year.

On September 21st she continues:

All the night staff were paid yesterday morning after breakfast.  Matron dispensed coins, done up and packed as usual. VADs got fr 302.75 which is more than £10. Pay is a wonderful mystery and seems always more than one ever expected.

And even when allowances for heating and lighting were discontinued the following year, she had no complaints:

Pay night yesterday and we got fr 334.90, the last big pay we shall have before allowances are cut down. But I am glad as I think it is a waste of English money to pay us all so much.

     So whenever you see VADs overseas patted on the head for doing their job for free, please bear in mind that they did not. They were paid appropriately for their work and they well understood the value of their pay.

*Dorothea's War: Edited by Richard Crewdson, Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2013
** If you'd rather not pay for your e-book, Olive Dent's original text of 'A VAD in France' is available free:
A VAD in France

The Intelligence Officer

This is part of an account written by Sister Catherine Black while working at a Casualty Clearing Station in 1916. Born in Ireland and trained at The London Hospital, Whitechapel, she was later the private nurse to King George V until his death in 1936.

Catherine Black - 'Blackie'

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     The German wounded had exactly the same treatment as our own, except that they were not allowed to speak to one another, and we were always ordered to place them in beds as far apart as possible. I can only remember one departure from this rule, and that was at a C.C.S. just behind the lines. A German prisoner, an officer of high rank, was brought in slightly wounded, and given a bed in the corner of my ward. On the day following his admission the British medical officer in charge of the station sent for me and told me that he had some instructions of the utmost importance for me. A patient, who would appear to be a German officer, would be brought to my ward later that day and I was for once to reverse all previous orders and put him in the bed next to the prisoner. He would in reality be an officer from the British Intelligence Department seeking certain valuable information, but I must be most careful to keep up the illusion. Although he would not, of course, be wounded, I must nurse him in the usual way and allow him every opportunity for getting acquainted with the German in the next bed. The Sister on night duty was to be given the same instructions as I. No one else in the station was to know anything, for the entire success of the plan depended on its secrecy.

     Late that afternoon another convoy came in and among them was a German officer.  His uniform was torn and covered with mud, and when he was carried in by two ambulance men he seemed so obviously ill and in great pain that I thought at first sight he could not possibly be the one for whose arrival I was prepared. Then he gave me the signal that I had been told to look for, and I ordered the stretcher-bearers to put him into the empty bed next to the German prisoner who had been admitted the day before.  Then began an elaborate game of make-believe. Never on any stage have I seen such an actor as that Intelligence Officer! His part was carried out to perfection. Not only did he completely deceive the German next to him as to his credentials, but he even hoodwinked the nurses and orderlies into believing him a badly wounded man. The Night Sister and I backed him up for all we were worth. At the proper times we put screens round his bed, carefully dressed and re-bandgaged his imaginary wounds to the most realistic exclamations of pain and protests in broken English. When he appeared to be suffering very much we carried out the pretence of giving him injections. Every day the whole performance of nursing him was carried out with scrupulous care, the only difference between him and the other patients being that no orderlies were allowed to attend him; Sister and I did everything for him ourselves. To avoid creating suspicion, we carried out exactly the same procedure in the case of the bona fide German officer. Very soon there were whispered conversations between the two beds, but we took good care to be out of earshot when that happened.

     On the fourth day the German officer was transferred to a prison camp, and our mysterious patient was 'evacuated.' We never knew his destination, but a week or two later I received unofficial information that the plan had been a great success. Somehow or other I linked this up with the news that our troops had taken an important German position.

King's Nurse, Beggar's Nurse, Catherine Black, published by Hurst and Blackett, London, 1939

Some Hospital Visiting for the New Year

I've recently been looking through some photos of military hospital wards during the Great War and am amazed at what a variety there were. I can't imagine what a sick or wounded man would be expecting as he was loaded on, and then off, the ambulance, but here are just a few examples of what was waiting for him after admission to a base hospital in France.  All these images are courtesy of the Imperial War Museum and are free for non-commercial use - references are given individually.

No.2 General Hospital, Le Havre, IWM Q10557. This hospital was built above the station on the Quai d'Escale and you can see the doors for 1st and 2nd Class passengers and also the Customs office

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No.2 General Hospital, Le Havre, IWM Q10561: Another section of the same hospital in the Casino Lechin, still in all its pre-war grandeur

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No.10 Stationary Hospital, St. Omer, IWM Q28925: This beautiful building is Chapel Ward, part of the seminary which housed the hospital

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No.13 Stationary Hospital, Boulogne, IWM Q29155:  This is 'A' Ward - a bit less glamorous but maybe more functional than those above

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No.32 Stationary Hospital, Wimereux, IWM Q8002: A more relaxed and informal scene, perhaps because it was taken in the early spring of 1919

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No.13 General Hospital, Boulogne, IWM Q29162: A bit more glamour to finish


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Honours and Awards to Women - The Military Medal

Despite the mass of books written in recent years about the service of men during the Great War, the contribution of women has never proved popular as a subject of serious study. This new book by Norman Gooding is a most welcome addition and a complement to his previous volume 'Honours and Awards to Women to 1914' (2007).

The introduction outlines the background to the award, and includes details of the ensuing controversy around the wishes of the Canadian authorities that their nurses were entitled to rather more in the way of awards than those of other nations. There is a thorough biography of every woman attached to the British and Dominion Forces who received the Military Medal, most with photographs and all with citations and background detail. This is followed by a section on those awards that were not announced in the London Gazette, mainly to foreign nationals, and lastly a section on awards of the Military Medal made in the years following the end of the Great War.

The book is meticulously researched and brings together at last the mass of scattered information which has previously been so difficult to gather in one place. It will prove a most useful and complete reference guide for anyone researching women's service during the Great War and a fitting tribute to the contribution they made.

HONOURS AND AWARDS TO WOMEN - THE MILITARY MEDAL
Norman G. Gooding
Savannah Publications, 2013
9 781902 366562

Bravery - It Started with a Tweet

 

I've always had quite strong views on Great War nurses being described as angels and heroines, and the assertion that they were all  'brave.'So I was interested in a thread on Twitter which went as follows:

Tweeter A.  Army Nurse Corps took hot water bottles to bed with them then made tea with that hot water next morning!*
Tweeter B.  Some WW stories would be amazing to collate a brave history that we are loosing [sic] day by day
Tweeter C.  Perhaps bravery comes behind professionalism, stoicism, dertermination and skill
Tweeter A.  Bravery, the right choice under terrible circumstances, against all odds.

Obviously A. felt that 'brave' was the best word to describe these military nurses but it made me think again about war, nurses, and bravery. The early 20th century was a time when British nurses were fighting to have their qualifications officially recognised through a process of registration, to ensure that poorly trained and inexperienced women could no longer pass themselves off as fully-trained nurses. Many of them relished the chance that war gave them - to know that they would at last have a platform to show off their skills in a public and wide-ranging manner - the eyes of the nation and the wider world were on them as they were released from the anonynimity of their peacetime role.

I doubt if they were thinking about being brave when they first put on their new uniform and entered the doors of a military hospital. More likely they were thinking about being tested in a strange environment; about what skills they would need; how this new experience would give them an advantage in years to come as they climbed the nursing ladder. They must have wondered who would be working alongside them? Would there be any familiar faces from their training days? Would their pay and conditions be comparable to what they were already getting and would Army discipline defeat them? And when a few months later they added their names to the list of those wishing to go on active service overseas, did they do it because they were brave? I suggest that most of them were desperate to get nearer the action; to feel closer to their brothers, fathers and friends who were already abroad; to grasp the opportunity to visit places and see things they had never contemplated before. Nursing in France had an urgency and importance about it which was lacking in home hospitals - it made them special. And they wanted to be seen as being special.

They knew how hard the work could be - the rushes, the pushes, the pauses; the long hours and early mornings; the boring patches and the restrictions.  They knew that if they asked to be considered for duty nearer the front, at a casualty clearing station, they were nearer the guns, nearer danger, nearer the most badly wounded men. Did they go because they wanted to be brave?  My view is they went because they wanted to make a difference, and to be seen as making a difference.

One of the few nurses who died as a result of enemy action is universally described as 'brave.'  Nellie Spindler died in her bed, while sleeping, the result of a shrapnel wound during an enemy bombing raid on her casualty clearing station. Can 'brave' be the best word to describe her? Unlucky, certainly, but hardly brave.

There were nurses of all sorts, good, indifferent, and some very bad - bad behaviour, poor nursing skills, lack of tact, no sense of discipline. They were not all heroines, and of course, none of them were angels. Angels don't actually exist and trained nurses are very much of the real world. While there were undoubtedly individual acts of bravery by nurses during the war, it was not the lot of the majority. When they were in dangerous and difficult situations, being bombed or shelled or retreating with the enemy at their heels, they relied on their long experience, their skill, their confidence, determination, dedication and fortitude, and on an instant learnt response to emergencies. I would still say that all these came before bravery.

* This surely cannot be true. I have heard of nurses using the water for washing the following morning, but never for tea!

Queen Alexandra's Royal Naval Nursing Service

I've just added a list of women who joined Queen Alexandra's Royal Naval Nursing Service between 1884 and 1928 to my website. There's very little written about naval nurses, and because of the complexity of their records it's not possible to download the service record for an individual woman in the same way that you can for members of the Army nursing services.  I've also added some notes about the records which are held at The National Archives in ADM 104, and how to get hold of them, which can be a bit like negotiating a maze. The page can be found here:

Queen Alexandra's Royal Naval Nursing Service service records

And the image below gives some idea of the problems of finding records with more than one on a page, and notes directing you to other volumes and other pages:

The National Archives ADM104/163/1

Snatches of Life

Because there are so few official records of the pre-WW1 military nursing services still surviving today, piecing together the details of the nurses' lives can be hard. So coming across little snatches of information can be useful, both for adding to the story of the service, and also the background of the women themselves. The National Archives hold copies of the minutes of meetings of the Nursing Board of Q.A.I.M.N.S. between 1902 and 1911, and they provide one of the few sources for discovering how original decisions were made. For those who find pleasure in being immersed in the most minute and boring of detail (me) they're a gold mine of both useful and useless information. Yesterday I found this little gem, which refers to a nurse born in Aberdeen in 1876, the daughter of a farmer, and who trained as a nurse at Liverpool Royal Infirmary between 1905 and 1909:

13 October 1909
CANDIDATES FOR APPOINTMENT TO Q.A.I.M.N.S.
The case of Miss J. F___, a candidate for Q.A.I.M.N.S., medically unfit owing to loss of teeth, referred by Selecting Sub-Committee was considered. The Board decided that this lady should be accepted on condition that she provides herself with a second set of artificial teeth, in the event of being ordered abroad.

Miss J. F. was accepted, and went on to serve at home and abroad and throughout the Great War, teeth or no teeth. I'm not sure what I learnt from this little extract, but somehow it says a lot about life at that time and the official reaction to it.

Women and the Great War Centenary

Amy Frances Turner (courtesy of Judy Burge)

I feel that by the time we reach August next year I might be all centenaried-out.  Already there is so much publicity, advance announcements of planned TV programmes, authors rushing to make sure they make the deadline with their latest books, and various institutions nationwide preparing their own events to mark the date.  Although so much emphasis seems to have fallen on 1914, the centenary commemorations, like the war, will go on for four years, and the fall-out for much longer. By the time we get to 1919 the whole caboodle will, I expect, simply be taken over by the 90th anniversary of the Second World War.  One of the main initiatives is in the hands of the Imperial War Museum who are hoping to gather a database of those who served, with the help of the general public - Lives of the First World War. Do sign up to receive latest news about the project and find out how you can contribute.

However ... I already have some doubts about the way in which the contribution of women will be represented. After all, many women belonged to civilian organisations that were not under military control, or were formed to give aid to military personnel other than those from Britain and the Commonwealth. They include munitions workers; members of War Hospital Supply Depots who produced almost all the dressings and surgical requisites used by the B.E.F.; the majority of VADs who worked in hospitals under control of the Joint War Committee; members of the French Red Cross, the Scottish Women's Hospital, the Serbian Relief Fund, Queen Mary's Needlework Guild, the YMCA and YWCA, and so many more - the list is a very long one. Hundreds of thousands of British women played an active part in the Great War, often on the Home Front, but are certainly not counted among the '8 Million' participants suggested by the IWM.

The IWM have been keepers of a 'Women's Work Collection' since 1919 when Priscilla, Lady Norman and Agnes Conway first began to gather photos, information and evidence of the contribution of women to the war. They hold thousands of photographs of women who either died during their war service, or were honoured for the part they played.  At present I'm indexing, just for my own information and pleasure, a thousand photos of women who were awarded the DBE, CBE, OBE, MBE, or the Medal of the Order of the British Empire during, or shortly after, the Great War. The range is vast, from titled ladies - aristocrats out of the very top drawer - right down to the most humble of munitions and factory workers. In this last category many were 'rewarded' after having been blinded or disabled during the course of their work, which probably took the place of any formal pension or disability benefit.

Part of the IWM's project is now up and running - it's called 'Faces of the First World War' and they are adding a new photo each day and inviting further comment or information. As of today there are 457 photos to view. Of those, just a single one is of a woman, a munitions worker who died as the result of TNT poisoning. I know that this omission isn't because they're short of wonderful photos of inspirational women - they're not. I know it isn't because they have ignored women over decades - they haven't. So why such a reluctance to put women in their proper place in relation to the Great War? Maybe it's because the person or team entrusted with this task are, like many others, only interested in Infantry, Artillery, guns, tactics, strategy - men's things.

The gap needs to be filled - it can't be that difficult. But if this is an example of things to come, women of the Great War, our women, will be poorly served.

Jane Croasdell

Versailles - The British Hospital, 1914

Following the events of the Boer War where hundreds of wealthy female 'camp followers' invaded British hospitals in attempt to claim some involvement in nursing the sick and wounded, the War Office made every effort to ensure that in any future war strict controls would ensure that only authorised and approved workers were allowed to be employed in British hospitals. I've recently acquired a copy of a book written by Maud Sutton-Pickhard, who seems to have followed in the footsteps of her South African sisters in gaining admittance to places that she should not really have been.  Her sheer nerve and arrogance are a sign that life, particularly for the rich, was rather different a hundred years ago.  Having been refused a job by the American Ambulance in Neuilly on account of her lack of qualifications or experience, she wanders around Paris seeing the sights, and one morning took the train to Versailles 'to see the big English hospital there.' As there are so few accounts of the hospital I guess she should be thanked for writing about her experience.


At Versailles I had an omelette at the little station inn called the " Lion d'Or," and then I went to a tabac  and bought all the French cigarettes I could find as there were no English ones, and some tobacco and cigarette papers. (Horrid cigarettes they are too ! — but the "Tommies" seemed pleased to get them, as smoking is their one solace.)

Walking up the fine avenue called the Boulevard de la Reine, with its noble trees, I came to the magnificent hospital, formerly the Trianon Palace Hotel. It is a truly ideal spot for a hospital, and it is a marvel of English efficiency and organization. I was one living exclamation point of admiration from the moment I entered the gate until I left. The grounds were filled with convalescents in khaki, all looking happy and cheerful. I passed them and went to the front door, where a Red Cross soldier asked me very politely whom I wished to see. I had been asked the same question in the grounds. I said I wished to look over the hospital; so he called the Colonel. The latter was exceedingly courteous, but it was obvious that he was somewhat puzzled at my unexpected arrival. (I seemed to be the only visitor except one old French Sister with a basket of food.) He asked me if I knew any of the officers, if I knew anyone in the hospital. I said I was awfully sorry, but I didn't — that I had just heard about the hospital, and had come up to look it over and take some Kodak pictures.

He said, "You want to take Kodak pictures of the wounded?"
"Of the hospital and grounds — of the whole thing in fact," I replied.
"What do you want to do with the pictures?"
“Oh, send them to my friends to show what a nice place the wounded have over here."

He seemed satisfied, and said, “It is rather unusual, but you don't look like a German spy! "I laughed and got out my passports for him. He examined them, but he still seemed a trifle puzzled. Finally he said he would show me round, and he told me there was going to be a funeral that afternoon, and asked me if I wanted to go to it. We met the old French woman in the hall, and he asked if I knew what she wanted.
I said, "Why, don't you speak French?"
He said, "Not a word."

The interpreter had come forward, but I found out that she just wanted to give the things in her basket to the soldiers in the garden, only she wanted to distribute the stuff herself, and it was against the regulations. The Colonel looked in her basket, and told me to tell her that she could do so to those out of doors but not to those in the wards. Then he shook hands with her, and we wandered through the ground floor ward, while I distributed the cigarettes among the Tommies. The Colonel stopped to give some directions about a wounded man, so I said I would go on upstairs. He told me to knock at any door before I went in, but I preferred to get hold of a Sister, and she took me in to see an officer in the Worcestershire Regiment. I offered my own private cigarettes to the young man, who was evidently pleased to see visitors. The poor boy had been shot in both arms and one leg.  His right arm was paralyzed. But, in spite of this, he was most anxious to get well and return to the Front. I started to go, and he said, " Oh, don't go yet ! " I replied that I feared conversation would tire him, but he said that on the contrary it took his mind off himself. So I sat down on an adjoining bed while he told me the history of his battles and wounds. It was quite thrilling, yet so simply told, with only the barest necessary mention of himself — all about his men, and the Germans and the fighting. He had crossed a branch of the Aisne, by wading, in order to take a farmhouse on the opposite bank ; there he found he was trapped, with the Germans at his back, behind some trees. He had taken sixteen prisoners, but they had surrendered only in order to lead him into a deadlier place in which he was ambuscaded. There was no way out but to hurry back through the fire. He had been the first to cross, so he was the first to discover the trap, and hastily called to his men to get back as quickly as they could. Though wounded in both arms, he managed to get away, but was again hit in the leg at the last moment. He was helped out of danger by some of his men, but it was hours before he could see a doctor. He had to lie on straw and freeze until he could get medical assistance, and finally be moved to a hospital. He told me a lot about the Germans. They are very tricky, but the men only obey orders. One German prisoner told him that he did not know he had been fighting the English!

Fearing to fatigue him by letting him talk too much, I went upstairs and gave the Tommies on the top floor the rest of my cigarettes, helping them to light them, and trying to say some words of comfort. They seemed so pleased to have someone to talk to, and so grateful for the wretched cigarettes. Some had just arrived from the trenches, and they looked most horribly weak and ill. But all of them were so brave and patient and cheerful, although they brought tears to one's eyes when they said how glad they would be to see wife and children again.

I went over the grounds and inspected the tents, which are ideally clean and well arranged. The entire place struck me as the perfection of efficiency and comfort. Before I left I had an opportunity of seeing the funeral. It was a most imposing and solemn sight. When the hearses were drawn up in front of the gates everybody stood, the convalescents, who were sitting on chairs in the sunshine and under the lofty trees, rose and leant against their seats, or else they were helped up and supported by their comrades. There were six men buried, all English soldiers. Hundreds of French people crowded outside the gates, and the great majority of them followed the funeral to the cemetery as a tribute of respect to their brave Allies.

France in Wartime 1914-1915: Maud Sutton-Pickhard: Methuen & Co. Ltd., London, 1915
(and freely available on the web)

Nurses' records and The National Archives

     A year ago this month The National Archives put online the entire WO399 series of service records of women who served with Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Service and the Territorial Force Nursing Service during the Great War - just under 16,000 files. Before they were online I used to visit TNA and photograph files I wanted to look at, or more often I’d choose just a random selection of files to see what was in them.  I learnt early on that in each one, however short , there was likely to be gem – a form, a memo, a personal letter – something that added to the overall picture of the nursing services.  So much was lost during the Blitz and each tiny bit of information makes the overall picture clearer.  I’ve just had a count up and have nearly six hundred files or parts of files that I’ve photographed in the past.  By going through the images and adding together the tiny bits of knowledge contained within, it’s been possible to find out more about the background and training of the nurses; their Boer War service; medical boards and sick leave; their worries and complaints; their lives before the Army and their lives afterwards; how long they lived, how much pension they received, where and when they died.  Only by the accumulative detail contained within many files has it been possible for me to gain the knowledge that I have now – and that is merely a drop in the ocean.

     Now these records are online, each one can be accessed and downloaded from home for a fee - £3.36 at present.  Some are brief, but many are much longer, running to more than two hundred pages, so quite good value for money if you just want one, or perhaps two files.  This is great for the family history researcher who has found a nurse in their tree. But it seems to be a bit of a disaster for the serious researcher – for those doing studies or writing books on certain aspects of women’s service.  Although it’s possible to view an unlimited number of files online in the reading rooms at Kew, it’s not cost effective or practical to copy every page, or even a small selection of the miscellaneous items which make these documents so interesting and important. In fact, you can read, but you can no longer touch.  You can make notes, but if you want a copy of a file you have to wander off home again and download it.  For a fee.  If you’re looking at one specific area, let’s say medical boards, or training hospitals, or areas of overseas service, you might need to go home and pay for a dozen files, or even fifty – files that you’ve already looked at once after making the long trek to Kew. So at a stroke, these files have been made both accessible and inaccessible, convenient and inconvenient, depending on what you want out of them.  In one way I can accept that it’s progress but is definitely a large step back in many respects.  I just feel very privileged that I've had the opportunity over the past few years to collect so many of these records together on my hard drive and now have the freedom to find and extract the little gems.

     Here's one of those items that I just happened to come across.  It's part of a list of belongings made in 1933 following the death of a serving member of QAIMNS.  What a lot is says about the life of these women between the wars and a good example of what might never be found today in the sterile surroundings of the reading room and the inability to browse and photograph original documents at will.

The 'Unremembered'

Before I had an interest in military nurses, I researched some local war memorials in considerable depth. During the course of that work I learnt a lot about the course of the Great War, and began to visit the Western Front, paying my respects to local men who lie in cemeteries there and taking many photos along the way.  It was a good grounding for what came later.  However, one important lesson I learnt was that not all those who died did so in battle, with many never meeting the enemy or even leaving the UK. I also realised that many who had been casualties of war, who had met the enemy, fought, suffered and died young are not commemorated by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission because they made the mistake of dying after the end of the 'qualifying' period which fell on 31st August 1921. So a man who joined the Army one day and got run over by a bus twenty-four hours later will be remembered by the CWGC for evermore.  A man who fought his way through four years, was gassed, wounded and mentally scarred, but died after 31/8/21 - even one day after - will not.  People try hard to justify that rule and point out that there has to be a cut-off date somewhere.  I call it rubbish.

Women have fared particularly poorly at the hands of the War Office, and later the Ministry of Defence by falling foul of their 'rules' for commemoration. Many nurses, both trained and untrained, have been 'forgotten' because despite caring for military personnel throughout the war they were considered 'civilians,' and therefore unworthy of recognition, even if they died within the qualifying dates. Included among these groups are most VADs, trained nurses of the Joint War Committee of the British Red Cross and Order of St. John, and a host of nurses who worked in primitive and dangerous conditions caring for soldiers of other nations overseas. I must also mention here munition workers, doing the most dangerous of work in the United Kingdom, with many of them losing their lives - they are also forgotten by the authorities. Complete and utter rubbish.

Our nation spends so much time honouring and revering its war dead, but seems happy to continue to turn a blind eye to the war dead who just happened to die at the wrong time, despite their cause of death being directly attributable to their war service - they remain invisible and anonymous.  I hope in the future that these men and women might receive the respect to which they are entitled. Breath-holding not recommended.

Matron Volta Billing who returned from overseas service with the Territorial Force Nursing Service, her health undermined, and died on 16 December 1922. Remembered here, if nowhere else

*****

Some More Girls in Wartime

By request, here are some more of the pages from 'Our Girls in Wartime,' with rhymes by Hampden Gordon accompanying pictures by Joyce Dennys.

Pansy ran a Knitting Party.

Oh! the things they knat.

Pansy's meetings never ended

And results were simply splendid,

I can swear to that,

Since for weeks we used the socks she sent

To take the place of wire entanglement.

***

Lizzie labours on the Land.

What she does I understand,

Is to make the cattle dizzy

Running round ....

....Admiring Lizzie

***

Auntie Fannie ran a can-

-teen for travel-tired Tommies.

Such a feast they hadn't seen

While they sojourned where the Somme is.

Lovely ladies ladled soup

Fit for any Trocadero's.

Eggs and bacon looped the loop

Down the throats of hungry heroes;

You'd have thought no mortal man

Could get through so much-some can!

'Some' Canteen!

**

Cordelia is a Constable

Of cunning and resource.

She runs in lots of worthy folk

Without the least remorse.

If you should show a chink of light

While getting into bed

She rushes in and takes you name

And OH the things I've said!

I HATE Cordelia!

***

Diana is a huntress born

On horses desperately keen

Who did her riding with the Quorn.

She's donned a most becoming kit

(Look at her gaiters, how they fit)

And now she is the Remount Queen ....

I think perhaps I ought to mention

The horses do get SOME attention.

***

A cheeky boy it used to be

Who brought the wire telling me

That the horse I fancied most

Fainted at the starting post.

Now it is the Perky Pam

Who brings the fatal telegram

Thoughtfully instructing you

"Embark tonight for Timbuctoo"

***

For VADs proceeding on active service

During the middle of 1915, as more and more hospitals were needed to cope with an increasing number of casualties, VADs first started working overseas in hospitals under the control of the War Office to augment the numbers of trained nurses. Before they embarked they were given an inspirational message written for them by their Commandant-in-Chief, Katharine Furse, on the back of which was a prayer by Rachel Crowdy, Principal Commandant in France. I was in Oxford over the weekend at the AGM of the Western Front Association and while I was there someone asked me if this prayer was on my website (which it wasn't) so I've added both message and prayer and repeated them here. Copies of the original are held both at the Imperial War Museum and the British Red Cross Archives.

*****

A MESSAGE FROM KATHARINE FURSE, COMMANDANT-IN-CHIEF, BRITISH RED CROSS SOCIETY WOMEN'S VOLUNTARY AID DETACHMENTS, TO VADs PROCEEDING ON ACTIVE SERVICE

This paper is to be considered by each V.A.D. member as confidential and to be kept in her Pocket Book.

You are being sent to work for the Red Cross. You have to perform a task which will need your courage, your energy, your patience, your humility, your determination to overcome all difficulties. Remember that the honour of the V.A.D. organisation depends on your individual conduct. It will be your duty not only to set an example of discipline and perfect steadiness of character, but also to maintain the most courteous relations with those whom you are helping in this great struggle.

Be invariable courteous, unselfish and kind. Remember whatever duty you undertake, you must carry it out faithfully, loyally, and to the best of your ability.

Rules and regulations are necessary in whatever formation you join. Comply with them without grumble or criticism and try to believe that there is reason at the back of them, though at the time you may not understand the necessity.

Sacrifices may be asked of you. Give generously and wholeheartedly, grudging nothing, but remembering that you are giving because your Country needs your help. If you see others in better circumstances than yourself, be patient and think of the men who are fighting amid discomfort and who are often in great pain.

Those of you who are paid can give to the Red Cross Society which is your Mother and which needs much more money to carry on its great work to their Mother Society and thus to the Sick and Wounded.

Let our mottos be ‘Willing to do anything’ and ‘The People give gladly.’ If we live up to these, the V.A.D. members will come out of this world war triumphant.

Do your duty loyally

Fear God

Honour the King

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall blame.

And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame,

But each for the joy of working, and each in his separate star,

Shall draw the thing as he sees it for the God of things as they are.

REVERSE - A PRAYER BY RACHEL CROWDY

Lord, who once bore your own Cross shoulder high to save mankind, help us to bear our Red Cross Banner high, with clean hands unafraid.

To those who tend the wounded and sick give health and courage, that they of their store may give to those who lie awake in pain with strength and courage gone.

Teach us no task can be too great, no work too small, for those who die or suffer pain for us and their Country. Give unto those who rule a gentle justice and a wisely guiding hand, remembering ‘Blessed are the Merciful.’ And when peace comes, grant neither deed nor word of ours has thrown a shadow on the Cross, nor stained the flag of England.

Katharine Furse in the uniform of the Women's Royal Naval Service, 1920

Rachel Crowdy in her office in Boulogne