Gallipoli 1915 - Part Two

Suvla, August 1915.

Every day that passes shows more plainly that the great attack has failed. The Australians, I gather, had a success on the 2^nd, at Tasmania Post, but their losses were very heavy. Those on the spot appear to know rather less than more of the real issues. Everything seems in a terrible muddle, but the scattered utterances I hear are very dispiriting.

“We got there,” Colonel ‘A’ told me; and his voice was unutterably weary when he added: “and then we had to come back.”

It seems that the Gurkhas and some of the Irish struggled up to the heights of Sari Bair under murderous fire, and there waited for the rest of the detachment, greatly exulting if suffering severely; the others lost themselves and never reached their comrades in front, who had to retire exposed to fire from the same guns. I never listened to a sadder story.
We rise at 6 a.m., and are seldom in bed before midnight. Upon the arrival of the “Gloucester Castle,” surgical operations commenced and were continued for thirty-six hours without a pause, and it is fortunate that the weather kept fine. The poor maimed suffering boys – for the majority of the wounded are nothing more than boys in years – like in rows on the deck outside the operating theatre, just as they are taken from the lighter, awaiting their turn. After being operated upon they are carried to the wards, thus saving them unnecessary moving and handling. How wonderfully brave and uncomplaining they are.

“Just let me have a look at that,” said one lad. “It’s only my mother,” he added, with a shy little smile. Poor boys! Poor mothers! So far apart. They are worse off than those in France.

The mental strain weighing on the officers runs through their delirious mutterings. One Captain must have been hit just after he had sent an important despatch, for he is continually muttering, “That fellow ought to be back.” “He got through all right.” “I watched him all the way down, it is time he was back.” “I cannot think why he does not come.” Only death ends his anxiety. Another shot through both lungs, keeps starting up and saying he must get back, he is wanted. “I’d be fit enough if you would only give me something strong to pull me together. Can’t you give me anything?” On trying to drink he falls back gasping, only to start all over again until unconsciousness comes to his relief. Another patients is suffering from almost complete paralysis; he was knocked down and covered by rock and debris; he is quite award of the gravity of his case, but very rarely does he give way. (I am glad to say that reports show he was making a good recovery in England.)

The transport of the seriously wounded down the rough mountain tracks was both painful and slow. A major of the Royal Irish, who had been shot through the lung, said how dreadfully he had suffered from the jolting of the stretcher; he was almost unconscious at the time but can just remember someone leaning over him and saying, “He’s done for, poor chap.” The less seriously wounded were full of fun; one staff officer, from whose leg a bullet has been extracted at his own request without chloroform, insists on hopping round on his good leg to talk to the others. He does his comrades so much good that the nurses pretend not to see him disobeying orders right under their eyes. He knows Captain “D” who is dying unconscious with a fractured base, and promises to write to Captain “D’s” people. There are a large number of medical officers and chaplains among the patients; one Roman Catholic padre being seriously wounded.

There is no cover of any sort on shore, and at the dressing station fragments of bursting shell splash into the basins, so that the staff have to seize their patients and scamper with them along the beach.. On the ship, accommodation has been provided for an extra four hundred patients by putting mattresses and hammocks along the decks. As they lie there huddled together as close as possible, they have to be sorted out and dressed; then entered on the nominal roll. Oh, that nominal roll! The Commanding Officer is heard to talk of it every night in his sleep. One unregistered officer was discovered on deck, raving and delirious; another, lying among some lightly wounded, was so faint that he could not call; his face was disfigured with ugly sores, his uniform in rags, and his badges missing. Whenever an orderly cannot be found near his duties, he is generally found talking to a young Australian who is lying in a hammock, and who has lost both of his legs and his eyesight, while one arm is fractured; yet he lives and jokes and sings. He is known as “Tipperary.” (He reached Alexandria, but after that I lost sight of him.)

Three miles out from Suvla the ship slackens speed and the dead are committed to the deep. Ships carrying sick proceed to Lemnos, where orders are received either to transfer th epatients to a home-bound ship, or take them to one of the Mediterranean bases. In spite of the rush and scramble, anti-tetanic serum is being given with great regularity and with good results. There are some very bad cases of gas-gangrene; one young New Zealander, who was lying out for twenty-four hours with a compound fracture, lost first his leg and then his life from this condition. Even slight shell and shrapnel wounds are complicated by much bruising of the surrounding tissues and need to be treated with great judgement. Cases of dysentery, gastro-enteritis and colitis are very numerous; there is also a good deal of paratyphoid, but inoculation has done much to diminish cases of enteric. The “Gloucester Castle” has twice the number of patients it is supposed to accommodate, and on an average a fresh lot are received every week, consequently the supply of hospital suits on board is not sufficient to meet this demand, and as the patients come on board covered with dirt and blood, and it being impossible to deal with the patients’ own clothing, the Red Cross clothing is found invaluable.
August 1915 will not soon be forgotten by any who spent it in the Dardanelles.

Malta, December 1915

It is always pleasant to get to Malta, the patients feel that they are half-way home. Lemnos now is terribly bleak, and although Mudros harbour appears sheltered, it can blow furiously there and show as cold and dreary an aspect as any spot on earth.
December has been the saddest month of the saddest year! At the end of November (27) one of the most furious storms broke over the much tried troops at Suvla and Anzac. Those who lived through it say it seemed as if the Powers of Darkness had broken loose. The wind howled and shrieked, wrecking buildings and tearing up every shelter. Provisions and clothing were carried away and destroyed by flooded torrents that burst from the hills. To sleep or prepare any food was impossible.
One officer came across some men reeling drunk with spirits they had taken from a wrecked store; they were staggering unsteadily along, bearing a stretcher with a wounded man, yet the officer said that at the time it did not surprise him, it just seemed part of the pandemonium that reigned everywhere. The storm and floods lasted three whole days and were followed by a severe frost. This cold weather had not been expected so soon and very few possessed any warm footgear, consequently hundreds of frostbitten cases were received on board. The Gurkhas suffered badly and I am afraid some of them will lose their feet. After this it was a relief to hear that Suvla and Anzac were to be evacuated, and although the evacuation was a severe blow to one’s pride, there was considerable satisfaction when, a few days before Christmas, the evacuation order was successfully carried out.
The Australian troops felt the leaving very bitterly; they had struck deep roots at Anzac, but they entered into it with zest and even got some fun out of it. Groups of half a dozen remained behind to run up and down the gullies showing lights so as to give the impression that the usual number were there. Already their hearts are set on France: it is there that they wished to go. A very interesting picture of a group who had been in the first landing, eight months previous, was taken on the last hospital ship from Anzac. A staff group, photographed on the deck of the “Aragon,” had a narrow escape. A Taube dropped a bomb on the spot where the group had been standing, a few minutes after they had dispersed.

One of the hardships of the Gallipoli campaign was its remoteness for sick and wounded. Those invalided home from France could see their people almost immediately, but what patient cared about getting to Malta or Alexandria? And how deeply they loathed Lemnos; mails, too, were scanty and irregular. A particular case I have in mind is of an officer who was suffering from a very serious head wound, and how, on his partially regaining consciousness, his eyes would rove about so wistfully, seeking for some familiar face. I used to think that his groping senses might have cleared could they but have settled on someone he knew. It was pathetic to hear this officer ask over and over again, “Where? Where?” Colonel Balance spent considerable time on board in consultation over this particular case; his sympathy and kindness to the patient made a great impression on me. (I had the pleasure of being shown round the beautifully equipped hospital at Ligne by Colonel Balance. My patient eventually died in that hospital.)
What should we do in these times without some of the lighter interludes? A major who was suffering from a contused wound of the head caused roars of laughter by his account of how he was hit by a tin of biscuits. His dug-out was protected by a barricade of stores consisting chiefly of tins of biscuits; a shell went right through them, alighting in the last case but one, but without exploding, the last tin being thrown with some violence on to his head. It was a wonderful escape and the major boasts that he is the only man in the British Army who knows exactly through how many tins of biscuits that particular kind of shell will penetrate.

Gallipoli 1915

Here is a further account taken from 'Reminiscent Sketches 1914 to 1919' written by members of Queen Alexandra's Imperial Nursing Service and the Reserve. This one is taken from diary entries written by Mary E. Webster while she was working on board the hospital ship 'Gloucester Castle.' Split into two parts, it gives a flavour both of the landscape, and of life on a hospital ship over several weeks.

NOTES ON THE GALLIPOLI CAMPAIGN
By M. E. Webster

H.M.H.S. “Gloucester Castle,” Lemnos, July 1915.

If it were not for the dark war-clouds, nothing could have been more delightful than this trip through the summer seas, with the blue, sunlit waters and purple islands whose names are poems in themselves. Milo! Paros! Naxos! Samos! Chios! How these conjure up visions of gleaming marbles, rose-wreathed cups, gods and goddesses! Surely no youthful Greek hero ever displayed a finer shape, or more noble poise, than the Australian soldiers who could be seen bating from a transport moored near the “Gloucester Castle” in Mudros harbour. The physical beauty of the Australian soldier was startling, their vitality wonderful. They are at Gallipoli, not driven by fear of invasion (the remoteness of their country saves them from that), but they are here from sheer love of adventure and loyalty to the mother country. Willing even to die if need be.

Lemnos is about sixty miles from the fighting – roughly six hours’ steaming. It is an island of green hills, with bare, stony summits and quaint windmills. In the spring the country is deliciously green, and the grass starred with asphodel lilies and every kind of wild flower. Even now there is just one lovely hour before sunset, when purple shadows lie on the slopes and hollows, and the dull hues of sand and dry grass turn to orange and gold. The glories of the sky and fascinating outlines of mast and hull are reflected in the quiet water; but the midday heat is brazen, for there are no trees. I have heard that this is due to the reckless destruction of timber by the Turks. In the old Greek days the island was well wooded and watered, and a favourite country resort for visitors from the mainland. Now it is a wilderness of drought and flies. Clouds of dust hang over the camps and hospital tents, entirely enveloping any moving van or car. Existence on shores is poisoned by dust and flies, making sleep impossible, contaminating food and drink, and infecting wounds.

Over a hundred vessels lie in this crescent-shaped harbour; battle-ships of many kinds, transports, cargo boats, mine-sweepers, hospital ships, and Greek fishing boats side by side. Our Headquarters Staff is located on the R.M.S.S. “Aragon,” and it is there we report for orders. In the elaborately glazed deck spaces and saloons, red-tabbed officers innumerable “live and move and have their being.” A visitor on board the “Aragon” once remarked that “he had never seen such a __ __ conservatory full of scarlet geraniums in his life!

Anzac, first week in August, 1915.

The “Gloucester Castle” lies about a mile from the shore at Gaba Lepe – now known as the Anzac beach in honour of the Australians and New Zealand Army Corps. It is only a narrow strip of beach, backed by bold red-coloured bluffs, deeply scarred and furrowed in their formation, and reaching to a height of nearly 1,000 feet. There are occasional tracks like those of a mountain goat, with here and there little terraced spaces. The face of the cliffs is covered here and there with patches of dull green prickly undergrowth, chiefly consisting of a shrub resembling holly, but bearing acorns; these, however, scarcely relieve the red-hot glare of the midday. In the distance on the right is Achi-Baba, and on the left, beyond the New Zealand lines, the land falls away into a tree-dotted plain, while beyond that again are the Salt Lake and Chocolate Hill. In the early morning and at sundown this strange, forbidding coast assumes a beauty all of its own; the gullies are deeply blue, and the sea and sky glow with wonderful tints; then, as the darkness falls, lights spring out up and down the hillside, like busy fireflies.

The insistent tapping of machine-guns and the sharp reports of the snipers who are no longer afraid of betraying their hiding place destroy the silence of the night. Sometimes stray bullets are found embedded in the woodwork on board. One of the best Australian snipers is of partly Chinese origin. The costume of a Turkish sniper was brought on board. It was of a dull green colour like the foliage, with coverings for face, hands and feet. Some snipers prefer to paint their faces. The Turks who know the country have found and provisioned posts in most of the larger trees, where they stay for a week or more. In the day time, shelling goes on for hours at a time. The white smoke of the bursting shells can be seen against the blue hills. “Beechy Bill” is responsible for many casualties, and “Tucker Time Liz” always chooses the meal hours; there is really no good cover either on sea or shore.

We have been interested in watching a mine-sweeper dodging about for three days trying to land a cargo of hand-grenades. At last she was hit and stopped alongside the “Gloucester Castle” for a few minutes to leave one of the crew whose arm had bee literally torn off. (I am glad to say he is getting well.) We hear few particulars on board, but can gather that this is to be a great and decisive week. Many senior officers have come on board to rest before their turn comes; they say that a bath and a well-served meal make new men of them, but that the sheets and soft beds keep them awake. Bathing on the beach is very dangerous and strictly forbidden. There is an Australian patient named McRodgers, who won the V.C. and a commission in South Africa, and is now of the Australian Army Service Corps. He is over 40 years of age, and has a fractured skull and arm, but does not consider himself permanently incapacitated to say the least. The “Gloucester Castle” leaves Anzac on August 6, with all the sick and wounded who unfit to take part in the decisive action of the following days. High hopes are held by all who are left behind.

(to be continued)

Australian VADs

There doesn't seem to be a great deal of information out there about the part played by Australian and Canadian VADs during the Great War, so I was interested to find this British Red Cross Society document which gives an account of the work of an Australian VAD detachment in England. I'm always puzzled that while Britain was struggling to staff its own hospitals; had few spare trained nurses, and was pushed to the limits to find suitable VADs to augment the numbers, the Canadians and Australians remained unwilling to release some of their own trained staff to the British and employ VADs to fill the gaps. The writer of the article sounds a bit puzzled too.

AUSTRALIAN RED CROSS SOCIETY
REPORT ON THE AUSTRALIAN IMPERIAL VOLUNTARY AID DETACHMENT

36, Grosvenor Place,
London,
S.W.1

29^th September 1919

The Australian Imperial Voluntary Aid Detachment was inaugurated in March 1918. Office accommodation was provided at the Australian Red Cross, 36 Grosvenor Place, and every possible assistance was afforded by Lady Ampthill, Colonel Murdoch and Lady Mitchell, to make the scheme a success.

Members who joined the detachment were assured of official recognition, their status being acknowledged by the Imperial Government and the Australian Red Cross Authorities. Therefore it was thought that the many Australian women who were working in England and France would be glad to be united in one organisation, the officers of which would be responsible for their welfare and be pleased to help them in all difficulties connected with their various duties. There was never at any time any intention to disturn members who were already on duty in British Hospitals, or workers with the Australian Red Cross. There were at liberty to join or not, just as they pleased.

In October 1916 Australia had sent over thirty V.A.Ds. to England. These ladies were all members of detachments in Australia and were lent to the British Red Cross to help nurse the wounded in the British Hospitals. These members, together with the various Red Cross workers at Headquarters, formed the nucleus of the detachment. The ranks were quickly filled, new members enrolling daily and officers were appointed. The Uniform worn by the members is the regulation dress of the British Red Cross Society, with the distinctive badges granted by the A.I.F. Authorities, i.e. the bronze “Rising Sun” with the Red Cross in the centre. The hat badge was the same as that of the Joint War Committee and Princess Mary's Detachment.

Generally speaking, all detachments are divided into two classes, Nursing Members and General Service Members, and the latter class included all descriptions of clerical workers, motor drivers, orderly workers in hospitals etc. For various reasons, the Australian Medical Authorities declined to admit nursing V.A.Ds. into their hospitals. This decision was difficult to understand, in view of the fact that Australian Hospitals in France were chiefly filled by British wounded and the Australian wounded were scattered in various British hospitals where V.A.Ds. were freely employed. General Howes had decided to employ V.A.D. General Service Workers at the 1^st Australian Auxiliary Hospital, Southall. Very few Australian women did this kind of work in the hospitals and the members for these duties were mainly drawn from British Detachments. Arrangements were made, however, in the case of any Australian girl wishing to do this work for her to be given the first opportunity where any vacancy occurred.

Australian girls being barred from nursing in their own hospitals and wishing to do this form of work had to do it in the British hospitals in England and France. That they carried out their duties most successfully is evident from the reports of the Matrons of the several hospitals. I regret to report that Miss Kathleen Adele Brennan (N.S.W.) who had done excellent work, died on the 24^th November 1918 while serving at the North Evington War Hospital, Leicester.

At Australian Red Cross Headquarters the members were divided into five sections – the Wounded, Missing and Enquiry Bureau; Prisoners of War Department; Entertainment Department; Hospital Visitors and Supplies, and the Newspaper Department. The Wounded, Missing and Enquiry Bureau was under the able direction of Miss Vera Deakin (Victoria) Assistant Commandant, with Miss Johnson and Miss Lily Wrybrow (Victoria) as Quartermasters. After the return of Miss Deakin and Miss Johnson to Australia, Miss Wrybrow was promoted Assistant Commandant, and carried on the work in a most efficient matter. The Prisoners of War Department, under the splendid organisation of Miss Mary Chomley (Victoria) as Commandant, and Miss Pauline Reid (W.A.) the General Service Superintendent, did work which will never be forgotten. The Entertainment Committee under Miss Florence A. Aikman, the Quartermaster and Assistant Secretary to the Committee, worked exceedingly hard to make the entertainments the success they undoubtedly were. The fourth section consisted of members of the detachment in charge of the Australian Red Cross Stores in various hospitals and Hospital Visitors. The Newspaper Section under the direction of Mrs. Aimee Hewson (Asst. Quartermaster) and Miss Florence Henty (Asst. Quartermaster) worked wonderfully and these ladies deserve particular thanks for their devotion to their entirely voluntary duties. The work was particularly well done.

It is not possible to speak too highly of the way V.A.Ds. have responded to the unique opportunity of training and practical work under supervision. At its maximum strength the membership of the Detachment was 186, comprising 37 officers and 149 members (nursing, clerical and general service). As explaining the large number of officers in proportion to members it must be remembered that V.A.D. officers were often in command of a large number of civilian workers in addition to V.A.Ds.

The advantages of the formation of the Australian detachment were apparent in many ways. The conditions under which the members were working and the accommodation provided by the several institutions where they were engaged were investigated and where necessary efforts were made for their improvement. Members were assisted to find suitable work for their several attainments, and encouraged to keep in touch with Australian Headquarters and each other. As a result of being attached to an organised unit they obtained privileges from which they would otherwise have been debarred. We have been able to render much assistance to members during the difficult process of repatriation, and in recognition of their long and arduous service special privileges were secured for Australian V.A.Ds. which have been greatly appreciated by the Members of the Detachment.

I cannot conclude this report without saying how greatly I appreciate the privilege of being associated with such a splendid band of workers, who have rendered such helpful and devoted services at great personal sacrifice and often under very trying conditions. They have thoroughly deserved the appreciation of those who have benefited by their efforts during this long and terrible war.

Rose H. Robinson
Commandant

Keep those nurses under control!

By 1916 it was becoming obvious that there were not enough trained nurses to staff the ever-increasing number of military hospitals both at home and abroad, while continuing to maintain essential services for civilians. A Committee was set up by the War Office to look at the supply of nurses, and to suggest what measures might be taken to improve the numbers available. This confidential memo, originating from the British Red Cross Society, and dated 1 December 1916, sets out some of the ideas that were put forward during the early days of the Committee.

MEMORANDUM ON W.O. CENTRAL CONTROL OF TRAINED NURSES

1. A Register to be kept of all Trained Nurses who leave their training schools.
2. All independent trained nurses (private, retired, etc.,) to be invited to volunteer for War Service. (The difficulty of this is that you will get all the cast-offs, unsuitables etc., but it is worth risking as you may also get a proportion of useful women).
3. By this means the names of all available trained nurses would gradually be carded on a Register.
4. No Auxiliary Nursing Services such as Joint Committee, Anglo-French, Scottish Women, French Flag etc., would be allowed to draw upon Trained Nurses except through the W.O. Register.
5. All War Hospitals could draw upon the War Office Register.
6. Auxiliary and V.A.D. Hospitals would not be allowed more than a certain number of Trained Nurses, all of whom would be registered on War Office cards.
7. Establishments of Civil Hospitals, Nursing Homes, Co-operative and other Private Nurse Organisations etc., would be carefully enquired into and limitations laid down.
8. No transfers of Trained Nurses would be allowed except through W.O. Register.
9. All Nurses registered who do not wear either the uniform of the Q.A.I.M.N.S. or the T.F.N.S. to be allowed to wear a badge or something to show that their work is recognised by the W.O. whether for the Army, Navy or Civilians.
10. Instead of closing the Nursing Homes in order to get the Nurses, it would be advisable to encourage them and to insist upon the rich Civil Population which usually employs private nurses being nursed in such Homes, where more than one patient share a trained nurse. This would effect a greater economy as Probationers could be used for minor duties.
11. This W.O. Register would necessitate the setting up of a new Department. This could only be a gain as the present system by which there are innumerable War Hospitals, Auxiliary, Private and V.A.D. Hospitals practically not supervised by the W.O. so far as the organisation, control and efficiency of the Trained Nurses and Probationers is concerned, tends to both wastage and inefficiency and want of proper discipline. From our point of view at Devonshire House, the present methods are most unsatisfactory. Only in the case of hospitals staffed by Miss Becher and Miss Sidney Browne are we certain of being able to get attention to anything affecting the comfort, welfare, control and discipline of the V.A.D. members we appoint. The War Hospitals are the most unsatisfactory of all.
12. One more point. The raising of salaries or bonus. This is very desirable from one point of view, but we must not lose sight of the fact that both Miss Becher* and Miss Sidney Browne** have repeatedly stated that they have no difficulty in procuring sufficient Trained Nurses. Theirs are the popular services and yet it is only in these services that it is proposed to raise the salaries. Where the shortage of Trained Nurses really exists is in the hospitals which can ill afford an equivalent rise in salaries or the proposed bonus. We must not forget the Civil population and practically bribe nurses to neglect it in order to volunteer for what is already the most popular work. Is it fair to the Civil Hospitals to raise the standard of salaries for Trained Nurses at the moment when they are probably shorter of funds than ever before? We all agree that Nurses' salaries are too low, but is it fair to take advantage of the Country's need at a time of stress and to raise them now?

* Matron-in-Chief (War Office) Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Corps
** Matron-in-Chief, Territorial Force Nursing Service

The Second World War

Although my interests remain firmly fixed in the Great War, I get lots of enquiries from people researching their WW2 relatives. Many of them still remember their great-aunts or grandmothers who served as nurses at that time, though relatively few are still alive today.
I recently came across some Second World War documents at The National Archives; letters written by members of QAIMNS and the Territorial Army Nursing Service from various theatres of war, and have decided to add these personal accounts to the website. Half of them describe the events during the evacuation of the Casualty Clearing Stations from France in 1940, while the rest are from further afield, including Malta, Sicily, North Africa, Singapore and India.
Having just decided to give the research a break for the summer and poke my head outside, I seem to be back to slogging over new web pages again - just an addict I think! An introduction and link to the new content can be found on the following page - just a bit to start with, and it will be added to over the summer - unless 'outside' proves irresistible.

Scarletfinders - Second World War Accounts

The Trained Nurse and the VAD

I've recently been re-reading 'The Lamp and the Book.' Written by Gerald Bowman in 1967, it tells the story of the formation and evolution of the Royal College of Nursing from 1916-1966. I was particularly interested in Chapter 10: 'V.A.D.' in which he describes the relationship between trained nurses and members of Voluntary Aid Detachments during the Great War years. It describes all the fears of the two groups, and the fight of the trained women to maintain their professional standards and hang on to their jobs, in the face of a perceived threat from their untrained colleagues.

THE LAMP AND THE BOOK: GERALD BOWMAN: QUEEN ANNE PRESS 1916
Chapter 10: V.A.D.

Members of the Voluntary Aid Detachments have already been mentioned in passing. This was an organization which had been formed by a joint committee of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem and the British Red Cross Society as far back as 1909. Although St. Thomas’s Hospital later gave members a very short semi-training, they were for the most part completely untrained, and the idea behind their embodiment had been that they should take the place of orderlies in the Royal Army Medical Corps in the case of war.
A very different situation developed. The V.A.D. girls came from better-off families and included a number of young women of title including, for a while, the much publicized Lady Diana Manners. Many of them were employed after the outbreak of war in mansion-hospitals specially converted for the nursing of wounded officers. They all wore a red cross upon the apron-bosom and upon the uniform cap, and naturally (because of their social background) they were much photographed and belauded in the general and pictorial Press.

Equally, naturally, they were not loved by the mass of experienced, really hard-working nurses who had little chance of (and in most cases no desire for) employment in the private hospitals run by titled dowagers. Even so, in justice to the V.A.D.s, a large proportion of them did useful work throughout the war, but it was an age in which snobbery was an accepted condition of life and many of them (usually those with the least claim to gentility) allowed it to be known that they did not consider themselves to be on a level with ‘ordinary nurses’. They were, of course, right, but not quite in the way they imagined. In short they were thoroughly and very understandably unpopular with the nursing profession, and when the war ended many of the qualified nurses had reason to suspect that the V.A.D.s would be competing with them unfairly in the professional employment market.
It was said that Arthur Stanley was secretly trying to get untrained V.A.D.s admitted to College membership because so many of them had good social background. A large number of people believed this, largely because people in general are more inclined to believe a rumour than to take the simple course of going to the right source and reading simple facts. If they had applied to the College, the efficient and dedicated Miss Rundle would have forthwith provided the truth as set out in Stanley’s own statements. But few did.
Naturally, trained nurses and nurses in practice who had learned their business by doing it for many years were resentful because Dr. Addison, the Minister of Health, had added to their fears by announcing: ‘We shall need many more nurses than we have ever had before, and we are fortunate in having … thousands of women who have gained experience in V.A.D. work.

Then the Government announced a Nurses’ Demobilization and Resettlement Committee, which while it was for the benefit of all nurses, also made the point that ex-V.A.D.s were to receive some sort of training. The result was that Stanley, by reason of his known connection with the Red Cross Society (part founders of the V.A.D.) was believed to be playing a double game. Nothing was further from the truth. Stanley had stated in public: ‘Our (the College’s) endeavour will be to draw a clear line between trained nurses and V.A.D.s and to encourage such of the latter who are suitable to obtain the three years’ certificate from a general hospital, which will enable them to become members of the College of Nursing.’
Both Arthur Stanley and Cooper Perry realized that the real position concerning V.A.D.’s was not clearly known by the majority of qualified nurses. One obvious result of the war was that several million men – boyfriends and husbands – had been killed. Another result was that money had changed hands with violent effect as between social classes. A good number of people had made fortunes but a vast number had lost calamitously. All over the country ‘comfortably off’ families of 1913 were finding by 1919 that they had little or nothing. Their daughters now had to earn a living, and owing to the enormous casualty rate of the war, had infinitely less chance of marriage.
It was from these classes, the middle and upper middle, who had suffered most financially from war, that most of the V.A.D.s came. The majority of them who now faced earning their bread had only what half-skill they had learned in war hospitals to bring to the market. They were genuinely in need of help, and the Government realized it and proposed a scheme to help them train fully.

Arthur Stanley had spoken with great care on the subject. He had proposed that only ‘such of them who are suitable’ should be trained further. There were left the large number who could never be turned into good nurses, as he knew in common with anyone else of hospital experience. For these, through the Red Cross, Arthur Stanley suggested a scheme which he felt would not only be workable and just, but which would not arouse the opposition of qualified nurses. He outlined the plan: ‘in every village a proper system under which V.A.D.s trained in home nursing and first aid, could work. They could perfectly well do all the small things such as attending to cuts and the like.’ In this sort of work he pointed out that it would be uneconomic to employ fully trained nurses who would be wasting most of their skill and time. In addition to this Stanley, in his negotiations with the Royal British Nurses’ Association, had agreed without question that untrained V.A.D.s should not be admitted to either of their Registers or the National Register.

In spite of all this Mrs. Bedford Fenwick blandly accused Stanley of proposing to push V.A.D.s into positions which should be reserved for trained nurses. Naturally, since her accusation was published in the columns of her British Journal of Nursing, there were many who believed it. However, the truth eventually prevailed by the unexpected – but what should have been obvious – help of the V.A.D.s themselves. They applied in large numbers for registration at the College, but found that the rule was being rigidly maintained. Only a three-year certificate of training from an approved hospital could gain them membership.
Naturally they talked about it. Naturally they reviled the College and all its works. In which they did the College a most valuable good turn, for the talk spread as talk always does, and wherever it spread it brought full confidence in the College among all the qualified and practising nurses in training for whom it had been founded.

On the Radio ... Uh Oh ...

Last night I did an interview for ABC Radio National, Sydney, which went out this morning on their 'Life Matters' programme. My subject was Dame Maud McCarthy, and what can be gleaned about her from the official war diary which I've recently transcribed. Australian born and bred, she spent most of her life in the UK, and is not well-known over there. Or over here for that matter.
I received lots of good advice from friends and family; speak slowly... don't gabble or you'll sound rushed... whatever you do NO UMMs or ERRs... no throwaway quips or jokes - they will fall on stony ground... etc, etc. These were added to by the radio station staff - hold the phone down below the level of your chin... don't move it around while you're talking or it makes everything crackle...
Due to the time difference, I was sitting to attention by 10.50pm when the phone rang, not too sure what questions I was going to be asked, and with a stack of papers ranged out in front of me (please remember, don't rustle...) I'd done a bit of homework - listened to previous programmes, and checked out Sarah Macdonald, the interviewer, so I knew who I was talking too (I thought a bit like a young Edwina Currie?) and of course it all flashed by in the blink of an eye, without me really knowing if I'd ummed or erred or mentioned anything that could be taken even vaguely to be insulting to Australia (I really hope not).
Of course the first thing I did this morning was to click on to the 'Life Matters' website, and sat for some time pondering over whether I could possibly bear to listen to myself, but eventually couldn't resist the challenge. Surely not me? That ponderous old girl? I passed with flying colours on umms and errs, and definitely didn't gabble. In fact I sounded so laid back I was positively horizontal.
Note to self for 'next time' - forget about umms and errs, and just make sure the audience know you're still alive!

This weeks 'Life Matters' broadcasts can be heard on their website:

ABC Radio National 'Life Matters'