The Nurse's War, page 16
‘Makes you feel like royalty, doesn’t it?’
Victoria heard Molly’s comment and was forced to hide a smile. If only her friend knew how much truth there was in that casual remark. ‘I hope they don’t make a big fuss of us. I’m here to work, not be treated like a VIP.’
‘I doubt anyone will realise we are nurses. They are used to seeing the QAs dressed in scarlet and grey, not combat clothes like these.’
‘I hope you’re right, Molly. The sooner I’m attached to a ward and doing the job I joined up for, the happier I’ll be.’
The hospital she was sent to was set in the outskirts of the city and from the grounds of the sisters’ mess. Victoria could gaze out and see Kilimanjaro in the distance, its peak snow-capped even in May. She longed for the mountains of India and prayed somehow she might be transferred there before the end of the war. Their living quarters were primitive compared to the large, airy bungalow used for recreation.
‘Good grief! Is this where we’ve got to sleep? They look like kennels.’ Molly was not pleased.
Victoria had wandered over to look at the tiny room, which contained washbasins and showers. ‘Then don’t come over here and look at the ablutions because they’re even worse than the rooms.’
‘I’m bursting to spend a penny – that wooden building behind the showers looks like a sanitary block. Shall we go and try them out?’
She followed, waiting to hear what Molly would make of using a lavatory that was basically a deep pit in which a constant low fire burnt.
‘A bit strange – but remarkably non-smelly. Victoria, are you out there?’
‘No, I’m in the cubicle next to you. Did you get a blast of hot air as soon as you sat down?’
‘I did – and I suppose I’ll have to get used to it, like everything else in this place.’
When she emerged from the washroom Victoria discovered an African boy waiting outside one of the cubicles. This was obviously the batman she’d been promised. Smiling she pointed to her boxes and the youngster nodded vigorously and carried them into one of the stable-like rooms. She could hear similar sounds of unpacking in the accommodation on the left of hers and knew Molly was also settling in.
She had been told to report to Ward B as soon as she was organised. She glanced at her watch – a little after two o’clock. She stood back to admire her living quarters. With the camp bed made up neatly, her spare uniform hanging from a peg and her personal bits and pieces laid out on the small wooden box that served as dressing table and desk, the cubicle didn’t look quite so inhospitable. When the hurricane lamp was on it would almost be cosy. The mosquito net hung limply from the ceiling warning her of what to expect after dark.
‘Are you ready, Molly? We’d better get over to Ward B and report to Sister Digby.’
A flaming-red head appeared in the doorway. ‘Righto! We need to take anything with us?’
‘Like what?’
‘Tin hat and gas mask.’
‘Have a heart, Molly. Do you think we’re likely to be gassed or bombed in the middle of an African jungle?’
‘Point taken. Still, you never know in the army. Do you actually know where to go?’
Victoria grinned; her young helper, Sami, had explained by gesture and pantomime the whereabouts of the ward they sought. ‘Follow me, Nurse Smith. I have had clear directions.’
She was pleasantly surprised to find Ward B was precisely where she expected it to be. The building was little more than a Nissen hut with curved corrugated roof and French doors at either end. Windows were positioned haphazardly down either side.
‘Blimey! It seems strange the sisters’ mess is in better nick than the ward.’
Victoria smiled. ‘I suppose the thinking behind it is the nursing staff are here a lot longer than the patients.’
Someone had alerted Sister Digby and she appeared at the open doors to greet them. ‘Welcome, Staff Nurse Jones, Staff Nurse Smith. You cannot believe how pleased I am to see you.’
There were tears in her eyes and for a horrible moment Victoria thought she was going to be embraced yet again. ‘We’re glad to be here, ma’am, and eager to start work.’ She glanced down the ward and to her astonishment saw all but three of the twenty-four beds were unoccupied.
‘Don’t worry, my dear, you’ll find things are run differently here. All but the bedridden prefer to spend their days outside somewhere. It’s almost three o’clock, time for drug round, so the orderly will bring them back.’
She exchanged glances with Molly who looked equally bemused. A native orderly appeared, his teeth a flash of white in a black face. He shot past and stood on the concrete path, then clapping his hands round his mouth he bellowed. ‘Wardie B. Wardie B.’
Sister Digby called them over. ‘They’ll be back in a minute. Come along, I want to show you where the drugs are kept, the sluice room and storerooms. There are two orderlies and two general factotums, which means one of each per shift. The MO, Doctor Beaumont, does his rounds at ten o’clock every morning. There are two doctors and a surgeon at this hospital; not nearly enough of course, but we have to make do.’
She followed her mentor from room to room nodding and speaking when required, but scarcely able to assimilate the strangeness of everything. Whilst they were in the stock cupboard there was the sound of voices outside the door. Molly nudged her and raised her eyebrows comically.
‘The wanderers return.’ Sister Digby smiled unaware of their suppressed giggles. ‘Come along, nurses, let me introduce you to your patients. You have two malaria cases, several infected wounds, one pneumonia – he’s the chap who stayed in bed – two jungle fever and a jaundice.’
When they came out of the stock cupboard every bed was occupied by a smiling black face. Victoria hadn’t realised how many Africans were a part of the British military operation. She and Molly followed Sister Digby around the ward, being introduced to each patient in turn. She was asked to administer the drugs and so checked each patient’s name on the list against the name at head of the bed before handing out the medicine.
‘Mind you, you have to be careful. When I got here two years ago I gave the drugs to someone I thought was the patient, but it turned out to be his brother. The wretched man had been visiting and was just keeping the bed occupied in case anybody else took it during his brother’s absence.’
Victoria thought this tale highly unlikely, but it made a good anecdote. They returned to the nurses’ station, a table at the end of the long room, and she and Molly sat down on two chairs hastily fetched by the orderly.
‘Well, I don’t suppose this is what you expected, or what you’re used to, but it’s how things are out here. You two are going to be running Ward B whilst I take some leave. I’ve not had a day off in over six months and once you’re settled I’m going to have two weeks’ leave.’
Her throat closed and the weight of unwanted responsibility settled over her shoulders. How could they possibly run this alien place on their own with only a couple of shifts to acclimatise?
Sister Digby looked from one to the other. ‘Don’t look so shocked, girls – you’ll cope wonderfully well. You will have seen far worse during the Blitz than you’ll get here. Now, who is going to take the first three weeks of nights and who the day shifts?’
‘I’ll do nights, if you like, Molly. I don’t sleep very well anyway.’
Molly nodded her thanks. ‘Do we get no time off at all?’
‘You’ll do the three weeks and then, when I return, you’ll get three days’ leave together.’
‘Victoria, we’ll never see each other. We’ll be like ships that pass in the night.’
‘Or in the early morning,’ Victoria added, her smile rueful.
‘You’ll change shift pattern after your leave. Now, as you’re going to be doing nights, Staff Nurse Jones, I suggest you go back to your quarters and try and get some sleep. I want you to report back at seven thirty.’
Sister Digby was right; it was much easier nursing in Ward B than it had it had been at St Thomas’. However, she missed the camaraderie of the other nurses and especially Molly. The only time they met was when they handed over at the beginning and end of their shifts.
The three weeks passed and she was looking forward to spending an uninterrupted forty-eight hours with Molly and having the time to catch up on her news. She had adjusted to the primitive living quarters. Her cramped room was bearable only if she spent the minimum time there; she went to the sisters’ mess to eat whenever she had the time or energy to do so. She was pleased to see other members of her draft, but it wasn’t the same as seeing Molly.
Sister Digby returned from her two weeks’ furlough a new woman, but was working as a relief in Ward O whilst the two girls were running Ward B for her.
Victoria finished her stint first. She handed over to Molly as she had done every morning for the past three weeks.
‘I’m going to get some sleep if I can, then I shall have a shower and meet you in the mess. I’ve arranged for a lift to Nairobi tomorrow morning. Is that okay?’
Molly nodded. ‘Yes, sounds smashing. We ought to see some of the sights whilst we’re here I suppose.’
She managed to sleep for four hours, about average for her. She got up and decided to use the showers. It was a good time to go in as the day shift was working and most of night shift was still asleep. Having grown up in India she knew the danger of lurking spiders and snakes. She had persuaded Molly to sleep with her shoes tucked under the mattress every night just to make sure nothing unpleasant crawled in unannounced. Her friend hadn’t questioned her superior knowledge, which meant for once she didn’t have to lie.
She sat up, checking the floor, before reaching under her mattress and sliding her feet into her shoes. She slipped her arms into her cotton dressing gown and gathering up her washbag, she left for the showers.
As she stepped in she saw a suspicious shiver of movement in the far corner, the darkest dampest corner. She recognised a snake when she saw one. She edged out and went back to her room to light her hurricane lamp. Holding the light aloft she examined the far corner of the shower. Sure enough there was a long black snake. Was it the dreaded black mamba?
She’d watched house servants, and even her ayah, deal with snakes when they’d entered the house, but she’d never had to do so herself. She knew these serpents moved quickly and that their bite was usually fatal. No time to fetch help – she’d be dead before it arrived. She hesitated in the doorway to the shower. There was the sound of bare feet approaching and she turned to find Sami, her clean uniform, freshly starched, hanging over his arm.
She pointed to the snake. ‘Is that a mamba, Sami?’
The boy pursed his lips and then began shaking his head vigorously. ‘No, no, not a bad snake at all, missy.’ Before she could stop him he handed her the uniform and stepped past her. In his bare feet, and without even a stick for protection, he reached down and, grabbing the snake by the tail, he threw it over the corrugated iron side of the ablutions building.
It still looked like a krait to her. ‘Are you sure that wasn’t a dangerous snake, Sami?’
He beamed. ‘Snake all gone now, missy; have nice shower.’
He’d risked his life in order to keep her safe. She was immeasurably moved by his gesture and patted his shoulder as he went past. ‘Thank you, Sami. I’ll not forget what you’ve done.’
When she told Molly about the snake she was horrified. ‘Well, I’m going to shower in the sisters’ mess. I know we’re not supposed to, it’s visitors only, but I’m not going in our block ever again.’
‘You’re going to have to, Molly. Where else can you go? You can’t not shower; it’s just too hot and sticky.’
‘Then I’ll use the shower block at the far end of the compound, the one near the perimeter fence. I noticed it today. It looks clean and I don’t think anyone uses it very often.’
She wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but in the pleasure and excitement of spending the next three days with her dearest friend, she forgot about her reservations.
15
ON THE MOVE
Victoria and Molly arrived at the sisters’ mess to find a group nurses gathered at the noticeboard.
‘Something’s up. Shall we go and have a dekko?’
‘Yes, we’d better. Must be something important to cause such a fuss.’
It was notice of a draft and after scanning the list of sixty or so names Victoria saw they were both on it. She turned to her friend in some surprise.
‘Look at that! We’re scheduled to go overseas.’ She could barely suppress the excitement that swept over her. Overseas could mean only one thing – moving closer to India – if not home itself.
‘We’ve only just got here, Victoria. Why are we being sent somewhere else?’
One of the women in front put her finger to her lips, shaking her head. ‘Come over here, and I’ll tell you,’ she whispered dramatically. ‘We’re not supposed to speak about these things where anyone can hear.’
Victoria was puzzled. How could the enemy possibly know what was said in the sisters’ mess in the middle of Africa?
Their informant turned, her face serious. ‘Didn’t you hear about the nurses who were drowned in the Indian Ocean a while back?’ Victoria and Molly nodded. ‘We are the draft who is going to replace them.’ She paused, checking both of them were paying attention. ‘Everyone says talking about the trip to India caused them to be torpedoed.’
‘We’re going to India? That’s even further from England, isn’t it, Victoria?’
‘It is, but from what I’ve heard there’s less jungle in India and loads of people speak English. That should make our lives easier.’
‘You’d better go and see when you have to report for a fitting of your new uniforms,’ Freda, their helpful informant, told them. Victoria, who was taller than Molly, was able to read over the heads of the other girls. She saw that they had to report the next day to a tailor’s in Nairobi and also to the officers’ shop.
‘No wonder I had no difficulty arranging a lift into Nairobi tomorrow. I bet the driver already knew lots of us would have to go in to order uniform.’ She noticed the group around the noticeboard was drifting away. ‘We better go and collect the necessary chits, for we’ll get nothing tomorrow without them.’
Molly vanished to have her illegal shower and Victoria bagged a table in the canteen. At least when she eventually returned to India she would be able to get real vegetarian food. Henry had told her, all those years ago, she would have to learn to eat whatever she was given in case anyone suspected her mixed ancestry. He implied only foreigners didn’t eat meat with every meal.
Whilst living at The Rookery it had been easier; initially she claimed morning sickness gave her an aversion to flesh and then told Marion that she actually preferred meat-free meals. As meat was one of the first things to be rationed, that suited everyone.
However it had been more difficult once she’d moved into the nurses’ home attached to St Thomas’s Hospital. She could hardly turn down the food she was offered and she needed to eat in order to stay fit enough to work twelve-hour shifts. Over the years she gradually forced her rebellious digestion and moral scruples into the depths of her subconscious. This allowed her to eat rabbit and chicken, but so far she’d managed to avoid cow or pig. No Indian ever ate either of those.
When they arrived at the officers’ shop Victoria presented her chit for fresh underwear. Mindful of the instructions not to reveal their destination Victoria told the sergeant they were being sent upcountry.
He held up a pair of knickers and waved them in the air. ‘These are not for upcountry, ma’am, they’re Far East issue. They’re cellular weave, see?’
Clutching her parcel of cellular weave underwear she left the shop, not sure whether to laugh or feel embarrassed at having had her knickers waved in the air for all to see. Molly was still sniggering.
The second slip sent them to an Indian tailor to collect khaki drill slacks and bush jackets. These were made to measure, a novelty for Molly, and a welcome reminder of things past for her. She slipped her arm through Molly’s and together they strolled down the broad street admiring the many smart shops, uniformly owned by white people.
‘It seems strange to see the windows without all that blooming tape.’
Victoria agreed. ‘Yes, apart from the number of uniforms around, you could forget there was a war on.’
The two largest buildings in the city were the Stanley Hotel and the Bank of India – these didn’t impress either of them.
‘When do we have to return to collect our kit?’ Molly asked as she spooned her last mouthful of ice cream at Jack Frost’s Parlour.
‘He said by the end of the week, don’t you remember? He apologised for taking so long.’
‘Well, that’s no good is it? We’ll be back on duty by then and not get any more leave until we’ve done three weeks.’
‘I’m sure that’s been thought of. If we’re about to be sent overseas, perhaps, like the time before we left England, we’ll not be on formal duty and have plenty of spare time.’
This proved to be the case. The hanging about, whilst being obliged to stay within the hospital confines unless given permission to collect uniform or kit, became tedious after a time. As Victoria had predicted they were taken off the roster and merely worked as relief in different wards when other nurses needed free time.
One night, after a particularly riotous party put on by the British sergeants to cheer them up, they returned in the small hours to find a note pinned to their pillows saying they were to be called at four o’clock and to be packed and ready to leave.
There were cries and exclamations of horror as nurse after nurse found the same orders. Molly shouted over the cubicle wall to her.
‘Blimey! We’ll never be ready in time. Are we supposed to take everything with us, including our greatcoats and gas masks?’
