The Final Blog - Farewell Queen Alexandra's Royal Army Nursing Corps

 

The Grey Lady Ghost of the Cambridge Military Hospital by Chris Buswell

Many of our former military hospitals were said to be haunted. Often by grey ladies. Perhaps this wasn’t surprising since this was the colour of nursing uniforms from that period. For example, the now all-but demolished Netley Royal Victoria Military Hospital had a grey lady ghost that was reputed to be an accomplished pianist and many a nervous nurse on night duty heard her piano music drift down dark corridors. Only the chapel exists from this once magnificent building. I haven’t heard if she switched to playing the organ!

My experience of a grey lady was hearing tales about her on night duty during tea breaks at the Cambridge Military Hospital in Aldershot. More experienced and time-served nurses and ward stewardesses, the forerunners to modern health care assistants, would regale me with tales of witnessing her or sensing her presence. This often involved first smelling a heady scent of lavender. Next came bone-chilling sensations and more fortunate ones either glimpsed her out of the corner of their eyes or had a full-on manifestation. In revered tones, these men and women of all ranks would talk about her sitting by a dying patient or, remarkably, appearing to be hands on nursing by turning or cleaning a comatose patient.

I never met the grey lady, though I tried! During night shifts, walking down that long corridor on the way to collect my meal, I would peer into the closed doors which led to units used during the day like physio and the med centre which was formerly the officers’ ward. When collecting supplies from other wards, I would walk along the top corridor, sniffing the air and waiting for a temperature drop. I even worked on two of the wards she was said to haunt. When stagging-on as the Night Orderly Sergeant, I had the perfect excuse to wander the entire hospital on the duty of ensuring the hospital was secure. I still didn’t meet her. Not even when checking the mortuary fridge temperature at midnight. This duty gave me the shivers though! Especially as the light switch was located on the opposite wall and I had to enter through the Chapel of Rest and then the postmortem table before getting to the fridges. Fortunately, the dial was on the outside of these. I’ve had to do this duty in a mortuary in Cyprus where the temperature dial was on the inside of the fridge. To read it, I had to open the door and lean over one of the trollies. Often there would be bodies in situ. I never knew whether it was polite to say hello or not!

I tucked away these ghost stories deep in my mind and promptly forgot all about them as I got busy with my career and raising a family with my wife, Karla, a fellow former QA. However, they came flooding back when Karla and I started going to the cinema regularly with an unlimited pass. We often watched three or four films on a day off. These included horror films which I loved, but Karla didn’t. It was fun watching her jump in her seat and the popcorn go flying. This got me thinking about what would make a scary film. Then I remembered about the grey lady of the CMH. Bingo! I had a long career writing articles and opinion pieces for most of the nursing magazines. But could I write a novel? My experience from the army is that I and my fellow soldiers and nursing/medical staff were capable of most things with planning and commitment. So, I set to writing my first novel, The Grey Lady Ghost of the Cambridge Military Hospital.

After it was published, I was privileged to hear from former matrons, nursing sisters, staff nurses and HCAs/ward stewardesses about their sightings of the grey lady. I also heard from patients who had near-death experiences and had been comforted by a lady in old-fashioned uniform, unlike those worn by the nursing staff who cared for them. This led me to believe in this grey lady who was said to have jumped from the clock tower because she had inadvertently killed a patient by a mistaken drug overdose or after hearing her fiancé had been killed in action in France in the First World War. Though these stories varied, what they had in common was a feeling of peace and that she was there to continue her diligent nursing duties.

Do you believe in ghosts and the afterlife? Was the Cambridge Military Hospital and other army hospitals haunted? Maybe time will tell. The building has been preserved, cleaned and converted into apartments. It looks magnificence and has been a sensitive conversion. Perhaps the spirit of the grey lady resides there and watches over the occupants. Maybe she is waiting for the first resident to become gravely ill and help nurse him or her and take them on their last journey to the otherside…

I’d love to hear of your ghostly experiences or thoughts in the comments box below.



Buy The Grey Lady Ghost of the Cambridge Military Hospital and other books in the Grey and Scarlet series at https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1517284740 or read the first chapter at https://cgbuswell.com/The-Grey-Lady-Ghost-of-the-Cambridge-Military-Hospital-Novel.php

Chris Buswell continues to write under the author's name C.G. Buswell. His tenth book continues a popular military post-apocalyptic series, The Fence. He has also recently released a crime horror, Dancing unto Death, about dancing contestants who have been kidnapped and face fatal dance offs.

Chris lives in Aberdeenshire with Karla and his Bravehound assistance dog, Lynne.

A QAIMNS Nursing Sister involved in the D-Day Operations of June 1944, and beyond by Maggie Lane

 

I feel unable to let this 80th anniversary of D-Day pass without mention of the Nursing Sisters involved in such historic events.

One was personally known to me throughout my life, who I remember well.

Her name was Kate (Nellie) Kearsey, from Charlbury in Oxford, who had trained alongside my mother at the Radcliffe Infirmary in Oxford. She was always known to me as Aunt Kate for all her life. Her Mother was a WW1 war widow, leaving her and two brothers who were both farmers.

Much is written, filmed and documented about this defining moment in history, but less is written about the Nursing Sisters, who landed and followed the invading armies, three days after D-Day.

Kate volunteered for Nursing Duties with the Territorial Army Nursing Service (TANS), at the outbreak of war in 1939 and was mobilised at Fenham Barracks in Newcastle. She was then posted to a field hospital being sent to the Middle East. I am unsure if she was part of 201 Field Hospital or another unit.

This posting lasted for a while until both she and her colleague asked the CO during his regular round with his retinue, if the patients could have a little more food in their rations, as they were still hungry.
Although the request was not dismissed, the pair felt that this request was classed as ‘trouble’ because both sisters were posted to another unit shortly afterwards!.

Moving on in time, Kate found herself back in the UK at the Royal Victoria Hospital (RVH) with many colleagues preparing for D-Day with lectures, kitting out and training.

The photo below shows Kate (at the front) and her colleagues in 1944 in front of the RVH Netley,  between training sessions, prior to D-Day. The large cedar tree up the bank behind them exists to this day, despite the long-gone main hospital. One exception is the deconsecrated hospital chapel, now serving as a museum.

In Normandy somewhere near Caen

Kate mentioned little of the crossing and disembarkation, but clearly recalls the tentage, and hessian screening used to provide some privacy around the latrines. It is well known that hessian sags and drops in time, and more so when wet. She recalled with amusement when a Frenchman daily passed by on his bike always shouted a ‘bonjour Madam’ to which she responded. Initially the man could not see her face, but as the hessian began to sag slowly, her face was more visible, but the courtesies continued despite facial recognition of each other, until the unit ‘moved’ on.

Moving on through Europe

Once Normandy and Brittany had been liberated, Kate’s unit moved on through Belgium and the Netherlands, and on into Germany.

It was in Germany where Kate and her medical colleagues came across their biggest ever challenges, never previously experienced.  Most know of the horrific conditions found in the concentration camps, but it was new to the troops who encountered these places. Bergen-Belsen was 11 miles north of Celle, and although not an extermination camp, deliberate starvation was the policy of the Germans causing thousands of deaths. Disease was rife, such as Typhus, which accounted for hundreds more deaths (including Anne and Margot Frank) shortly before the liberation.

Kate worked within a team that washed and clothed inmates. She recalls as soon as they gave out blankets some of the prisoners made them into a rough type of clothing. Food given out was secreted away by inmates. Some of the prisoners' names were so complicated to spell and document, because many came from countries with complex spelling. Kate said this was where the Red Cross were most valuable with assistance in helping writing down details and nationalities of each patient. Some of the Red Cross workers themselves were of mixed nationalities with language skills. Over time local nurses and health care professionals took over care of these poor emaciated survivors in temporary set up hospitals. Sadly some local nurses even died from disease contracted from the patients they were looking after. Of course, many patients continued to die after liberation or shortly afterwards.

Tasks Completed

Once the Medical units had completed their difficult and heart-rending tasks, many of the Nursing Sisters were sent for demobilisation. No counselling ensued, or was even offered in those days.

Kate was demobilised from Hannover and returned home to Charlbury where she remained for the rest of her life, caring for her mother in later years.

Later in 1946 she was recognised by the award of ‘Mentioned in Dispatches for Northwest Europe (Including D-Day).  I have been unable to find out where and what part of her service warranted her this award.

Post war

After the war Kate returned to Charlbury, where she became a Health Visitor (of the old school), visiting families living in any type of building they could find, albeit an old large sentry type building on a disused airfield, with a sack used to cover the door. When on holidays to stay with her as a child, I was taken and saw these places.

Kate never gave the impression of being traumatized, quite the opposite, and we chatted about her time in service. I mentioned I had visited Bergen-Belsen when in Germany. She was not surprised that so many inmates had been buried in several large communal graves of 5000 – 1000, as they were so thin and skeletal.

Kate was happy to narrate the activities and events she had been involved with. She had a great sense of humour which always served her well and cheered her colleagues.


Postscript

This group of nurses still amaze me, as they just went home with their thoughts, some of which must have been grim, and they just ‘got on’ with their lives.

I have been to both Normandy and Germany many times. Travelling through Germany, usually on route to Poland or other destinations I have several times called in at Bergen-Belsen during one of our stops.
I was very impressed to see that the hut I saw in the 1970’s with a few photos pinned round the sides is long gone. A brand new large excellent museum and information centre with many artifacts discovered on the site are now sunk and displayed with glass covering into the floor. A whole wall of the centre is dedicated to personal photos and the audio accounts of survivor's stories from their time spent there. Headphones with different languages are also provided.

I noted German Military and other nationalities visiting the site which is encouraging for future generations to ‘take stock’ of past events.

My last visit 2 years ago made me feel very proud that all British Units involved with the liberation of the camp are now well listed and strategically and clearly placed on a large wall.  Proudly on that list is included:

QUEEN ALEXANDRA’S IMPERIAL MILITARY NURSING SERVICE

Maggie Lane 2024

Marjorie's Royal Red Cross by Marjorie Bandy

 

The Royal Red Cross (RRC) is a military decoration awarded for exceptional services in military nursing. The award was established on 27 April 1883 by Queen Victoria after nurses had served in Zululand and their work was not recognised officially.  The first recipient was Florence Nightingale and the second Jane Decilia Deeble, who had served in Zululand.  The award is made to a nurse who has shown exceptional devotion and competence in the performance of nursing duties, over a continuous and long period, or who has performed an exceptional act of bravery and devotion at their post of duty. 

Source: Royal Red Cross - Wikipedia

Where were you when you were informed?

I was working as a Staff Officer at MOD that I was to be awarded the RRC in the New Year’s Honours of 1985. I think that it was at the end of November.

How was I informed?
Brigadier Rooke handed me an envelope from her safe.

Did I know why I was being honoured?
My RRC was for the response of the QARANC personnel serving in The Falklands response to the devastating fire which occurred on 10 April 1984, some 40 years ago.

How long did I have to keep it a secret?
Not too long as I was given a New Year’s honour.

How did the family react to the news?
Obviously, everyone was delighted.

Did I celebrate before the Palace event?
As I was living in a flat in Greenwich my parents came to stay and we went out for supper the evening before locally.

How did I feel to see my name in the newspaper?
Seeing your name in the papers always gives a buzz, especially the local newspaper at home. My Mum saved every newspaper cutting of me doing something, usually meeting a member of the Royal Family.

Who went with me to the Palace?
My parents came with me and as it was such a special occasion MOD provided an official car to take us.

Who presented my medal?
Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth gave me my medal and of course she was well briefed for all medal recipients.

What did we do afterwards?
I was still a member of the RAF Club at the time and we went for a meal there as of course I was still in uniform.

Other observations
The presentation was only 4 weeks before my wedding and so it was a bit sad that I was only allowed two guests as it meant my then fiancé couldn’t come. As my wedding was the next month my mum insisted on a different outfit for each event – much to my dad’s consternation!

Lt Col (Rtd) Marjorie Bandy RRC

The Sash of Merit 1989 - by Jan Westbury

Officer training at the Queen Alexandra's Training Centre, Aldershot 1989.  

I really enjoyed the eight week training programme, I think because of the variety every day from drill, PT, military classes and so much more. Spending all that time on ironing, bulling shoes and starching veils was a great discipline and I loved being smart.  My biggest problem was dealing with my curly whirly hair, with wisps always escaping and I became determined not to be caught out again.  One of the girls had a great way of stretching her head during inspections so her hair was off the collar.

The girls I joined with were such fun and the social side was great, we seemed to have a party every week.  It is sad all these years later to only be in touch with one of them. We should have a reunion.

As a mature entrant I had to keep up with the younger ones, so the effort to not be last on runs made me push hard to be at the front, with first place occasionally.  I loved the challenges. I didn't need to be the best, but I was motivated to do well.

At the end I was awarded with the Sash of Merit. It was a shock, but of course I felt very proud.  The picture below was taken for the local newspaper. 

There were a couple of disappointments, in that we could not have our last parade with our families in attendance outside. It absolutely poured with rain and we had to march into the gym. That was a challenge trying to keep in step.  The other disappointment was that my parents were in the Caribbean on holiday, so missed the whole event.  My closest friends were to attend, but they were stuck in Cheltenham, snowed in.   However, it meant I could circulate with everyone else and still enjoyed the special lunch.

Happy days.

Coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camilla. The view from The Palace garden. By Carol Kefford

It was pure luck that I had this amazing experience. I was in my final couple of months as Colonel Commandant QARANC so a few more weeks and I’d have missed it. The original Coronation plan had been for the Master General to represent all of the Army Medical Services, so without the timely and vocal intervention of Colonel Graham Johnson as Colonel AMS successfully making the case for the individual Corps' Colonels Commandant to also parade, I would have missed it. So, on two counts at least I was very, very fortunate.

We were to be part of the 100 strong senior officers' cohort which included all but the Service Chiefs who were in the Abbey. However delighted I was, I confess to anxiety creeping in very quickly. I had not marched in formation for at least 20 years and more on this later.

The detailed instructions were only being released close to the event but we knew that they would include a video of the hat's off routine required during the 'Three Cheers'. So, after 20 years of not marching and never having done 'Three Cheers' while on parade, I could only wait to find out what was required. More on this later too.

There was then the matter of changing my rank crowns and cap badge to the Kings Crown. These were in very high demand and very short supply, but mine arrived in the nick of time. The cap badge was a different fitting to the Queens Crown I had on my No 1 dress hat so required some nifty work with a scalpel to get it fixed, and changing crowns on gold cord shoulder boards required some strong arm manoeuvres with a large pair of pliers. With only minor damage to my fingers the job was done.

Overnight rehearsal! By this stage I had my niggling concern about the drill, hoped that I had got the uniform right and now remembered that I hadn't actually stayed up all night for at lest 20 years either. I did remember though that if things were as interesting and lively as they often were on night duty then it would not be difficult to stay awake.

We were briefed during the afternoon in the Guards Chapel by the Garrison Sergeant Major the now very well known WO1 Vern Stokes, Coldstream Guards, at which point I think we all recognised that the overall Coronation plans were way beyond anything seen before. This was indeed going to be interesting. GOC London District spoke and found a polite way of telling his fellow Generals and not quite so very senior officers that our job was to suspend any notion of independent thought and simply to do exactly as we were told.

It was lively too as we assembled in Main Building, changed into No 1 dress and caught up with colleagues and friends. A sense of excitement and 'Aren't we lucky?' was evident. Then on to the coaches at 2200 for the short drive to Wellington Barracks. 100 senior officers did exactly as they were told to exit Main Building in good order, but still nothing had been left to chance and there were guides posted at every doorway, lift and staircase to make sure we didn't wander off.

We were held at a road junction and so witnessed the procession from Waterloo Station. Imagine. In the dark, band after band with troops marching behind each one, all in full dress uniform, across Waterloo Bridge to the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben with the London skyline lit up behind. Quite a sight.

Off the coaches and we were formed up in a pre-determined order. I was middle of the left flank and so to my delight found that I would be front row at the Palace. Just one rehearsal for the three cheers and then into the Officers Mess for something to eat and the long wait.

The QARANC contingent and their AMS colleagues were now held, along with the rest of the Army, in the (massive) underground car park at the Barracks so one of the highlights during the rehearsal and on the day was spending time talking to our personnel. They were in tremendous spirits in spite of the tough rehearsals that you will read about elsewhere. I was incredibly proud.

After a few more hours spent watching the spectacle of the Army elements of the procession form up and march off behind their respective bands, we formed up. I think this was about two in the morning but having carefully followed the GOCs instructions to suspend independent thought I had quickly got into the swing of not thinking for myself and so had lost track of time by then. "This is going to be interesting" I thought to myself.  About 100 of us, completely out of practice and with no rehearsal were about to step off. But we came to attention pretty smartly and got underway without embarrassment. I confess I needed to change step here and there to begin with but behind the Massed Bands of the Irish Pipes and Drums we all settled very quickly.

Now, I have only ever marched on a parade square. The route to the Palace garden involved cobbles, speed bumps, gravel, kerbs and grass and quite a lot of changing direction. But we arrived in good order.  Fascinating just how deep in our brains these skills have embedded. I needn't have worried.

We were able to move around and chat for a while then formed up to wait for the main procession to arrive. On the day the procession would go behind us onto the grass but it was flooded in parts so they marched between us and the Palace and straight out of a side gate. Or at least that had been the plan but it was locked!! The man with the key was duly found and everything started up again. Another unexpected and unique treat to watch the entire procession march past just a few feet away. We followed the procession behind 'our' band round the Victoria Memorial, up Birdcage Walk and were brought to a halt on Horseguards. There, the Guards officer designated to keep us in order passed on the feedback from the GOC London District that the Senior Officers Cohort had generally done well but please could we not fidget quite so much on the day.  It was generally agreed among the senior officers that we would not need to fidget quite so much on the day because we would not be quite so incredibly cold on Saturday afternoon as we were in the very early hours of Wednesday morning. We were freezing and had been very happy to set off marching again just to warm up.

Walking across Horseguards as dawn was breaking was magical. Still wide awake I captured the memory and started to look forward to doing it all again in daylight.

Buckingham Palace Garden

 Others will describe their experience of     the Coronation procession and the       overall day so I will return straight to     Buckingham Palace Garden.  

The 'Three Cheers' was incredible. Concentrating hard on getting the hat off onto shoulder, up in the air, back to shoulder, back on head routine correct and in time with everyone else I was completely unprepared for the wall of sound. The volume and resonance was immense. Fortunately there were two more to go, to focus on and enjoy. 

Having been delighted to find myself on the very front row I had realised once in-situ for the rehearsal that we were so far to one side that however much I tried to swivel my eyes (without fidgeting of course) I was not going to be able to see The King and Queen.  All I could see were a couple of the ground floor french windows and net curtains. But those curtains twitched and Prince George appeared resplendent in his red tunic followed by the King. They opened the door and watched the parade leaving the garden while chatting and pointing at the activity. What a bonus.  

A guardsman had been positioned at the garden gate to say repeatedly as the senior officers passed, "Sirs, Ma'am's, you are moving into public view, please stay in step". Cheeky I thought. We had completely nailed it some time ago.

There was one last treat to come. The march up Birdcage Walk behind the Pipes and Drums. I was very conscious that this would be my last ever and I needed to not only concentrate on what I was doing but take it all in and remember the moment, how special it felt, what it meant, and once again how extraordinarily lucky I was to have had such an experience.

Master General AMS, Senior Health Advisor (Army) and the AMS Colonels Commandant in Buckingham Palace Garden

 
Col (Rtd) Carol Kefford Former Colonel Commandant QARANC

QARANC AND ATTEMPTING P COY - PART TWO by Rod Eldridge

Part one described how I passed pre para, also known as "beat up"!  If successful at regimental level pre para, you then go to Catterick for the all arms Parachute Company "P Coy".  Part two is all about attempting P Company.

It was only a few days after passing pre para and still feeling sore, it was off to a bleak Wathgill Camp N Yorkshire with 5 other 16 CSMR unit members.  This would be our home (house of pain) for the next 3.5 weeks. 

As with all things Army it was up at a ridiculous o’clock, eat a hearty breakfast, kit up, collect weapons and then get bussed to Vimy Barracks. It was November 2003, it was cold, wet, and foggy! Just lovely for doing extreme constant phys! The idea was to be the grey man, which wasn’t difficult as I had grey hair, but being the most senior rank and given the number 1 to write in white on my lightweights it made me stick out rather more than I wanted. 

Day one is a full-on assessment/screening with a BFT which must be completed under 8.30 mins, the high air assault course trainasium and lastly 8 (very quick) mile tab. We numbered 106 at the start we were down to 76 after day one! As an officer you are always pushed to back at the start of events, whilst not proud of myself, but being so keen to pass I pushed many a body out of my way to ensure I made the cut. I had made it and so I was officially on the course, every day we had to undergo at 2 least and sometimes three grueling training events, including, 10 milers, 20 miles runs and tabs, CFT, Stretcher races, log runs, gym work, swimming tests, hill reps, day, and night nav exercises, sections attacks, assault courses and a steeplechase. Over time we were eventually reduced to 42 with only one other 16 CSMR colleague remaining with me. We were given presentations to do, and if we were picked up on our kit, weapons or not having totally filled water bottles we given show parades “show cleans” most evening just to keep them tempo of pressure. Evenings were about kit prep and personal admin, treating blisters, aches, and pains etc. being the “medic”, I was always asked for advice, treatment, and medications if appropriate. It struck me to what lengths folk would go to keep going and pass P Coy, even if they were in severe pain or had suspected stress fractures, they wanted to medicate up and keep going this was not what I couldn’t endorse. It was better to stop, recover and try again. I recall on 26th November which was my 40th birthday, we did a ten-miler tab, with weight and weapons to the aptly named Land of Nod! We stooped at a hill and were made to run up and down the hill 20 times, at the end when we reached the bottom. We were marching on the spot when my name was called out congratulating me on reaching my 40th birthday and I was made to do another rep of the hill whist the rest of squad were kept marching on the spot whilst singing happy birthday Maj Eldridge (airborne humour).  Not one of my best birthdays presents but one I’ll never forget!

So having endured 2.5 weeks of thrashing you are entering into test week, one more week of hell that includes eight tests and it’s done. Steeple chase, CFT, stretcher race, Log race, 10 miler quick tab under 1.50 hr, 20 miler, milling and trainasium. You must get 45 points to pass as I recall some events are worth five point and some 10 points, the bottom line is it’s best not to fail anything. I struggled in the milling I was pitched against a very large and muscular Welsh Sapper who was looking forward beating up an officer. I gave as good as I could knocking him down and he returned with the same, apart from the bout being stopped to due to my use of inappropriate language deemed unbecoming of an officer when over we drew, so it was 5 points in the bag much better than losing and having no points at all. The other events whilst tough were OK, I didn’t mind the infamous log race, it was extremely tough, but the stretcher race was horrendous, keeping the heavy stretcher above your shoulder whilst moving at pace with little respite when swapping out, nearly caused me to quit but a little voice said no way you have come too far, and this was the final event. The P Coy CSM gave words of encouragement! and pushed me down the last hill and it was done.

I passed all the events and thought I’ve had made it, but it was most reassuring during the pass-fail parade that afternoon, when I was called to attention on hearing my number, No 1, I stood to attention and I replied yelling out :539939 Major R Eldridge QARANC 16 CSMR, a most welcome reply said “pass”. I was so relieved and elated it was hard to stand at attention whilst they read out the other 36 passes and 3 stand up fails.  The latter are cruel because you have made it to the end having endured so much, but didn’t quite meet the standard to undergo parachute training and join airborne forces.

I was absolutely chuffed, but hadn’t given too much thought to parachuting, I’m not keen on heights and it wasn’t easy but once you’ve passed P Coy you will do the jumps. I was caught off guard when returning to the unit as I was greeted like a  hero for my achievement. Once back from P Coy I could legitimately wear a parachute smock, so I made a B line for the QMs clothing store. You are called a penguin until you get your wings, so I went to Brize ASAP for the next jumps course. I did some jumps with recently qualified SAS which again was interesting as they still have to undergo the basic parachute course.

This was my first all arms course and it gave so much more than a badge and the meagre para pay, I met and trained with other arms and services and gained insights into their roles, some of these I worked with back at brigade and later on when deployed. So, for me it was a change to day to day running of a DCMH or MH Nursing and it helped me feel included and others who were badged felt they could approach me, this had a definite impact clinically as we saw an increase in referrals. The doubters are for me those who know deep down they are not able to pass this formidable and arduous course and it’s their way to rationalise this realisation. So, for me yes it was worth it on my levels and it’s an important achievement in my life.


Lt Col (Rtd)  Rodney Eldridge