From Infantry to Infirmary by Danny Shilling

31st May 2009, I was 18 years old and sat on a train, feeling both nervous and excited. This was the start of my new chapter. I was heading to the Infantry Training Centre, Catterick, to conduct the 24-week Combat Infantryman’s Course.

11th December I passed out into the 2nd Battalion, Royal Regiment of Fusiliers in front of my proud family. I was looking forward to some much-needed leave before joining my new unit. Thinking I would get a week or two, you can imagine my dismay when I was told to report to Cavalry Barracks’ guardroom in Hounslow, London at 0800hrs on Monday 13th!

The first half of 2010 was spent preparing for and conducting Public Duties. The pride felt whilst standing outside Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle compensated for the hours spent starching my Number 1’s and bulling my Ammo boots. One particular memory stands out: being told to fill my boots with sand, melt beeswax onto them using a mini blowtorch and then bull them made me raise an eyebrow. I’d already been sent to the stores for the keys to the indoor tank range!

In August 2010 the battalion moved to Celle, Germany for 2 years. We were told we were going to deploy to Kenya and started Pre-Deployment Training. One morning our Platoon was late for transport due to a heavy night on the lash. As soon as our boots hit the training area, our Platoon Sergeant taught us the implications of missing transport. He gave us an orientation to the ground in 30 minutes! Finishing off with the well-known phrase: “It pays to be a winner”. I did not want to go again! I sprinted up this mound used as a tank firing point, wearing kit weighing more than half my body weight. Overdoing it on the descent I lost my footing and tried to combat roll out of it. Instead, the weight of the body armour, webbing and daysack caused me to hit the ground, shoulder first!




Screaming in pain, the other lads thought it was part of this “remedial training”. They threw me on a lightweight stretcher and casevac’d me 200m. the bouncing caused further pain, causing louder cries. They thought I was going for an Oscar! I was lowered to the floor and told to get up. Our Sgt realised something was wrong as I continued to clutch my arm close to my chest. Turns out I had dislocated my Acromioclavicular Joint, requiring 3 months off and physiotherapy. Instead of deploying to Kenya, my fate was to be on rear-party over Christmas, limited to light duties.

August 2012, the Fusiliers continued on to our next rotation: Cyprus! Based in Dhekelia we were 30 minutes from Ayia Napa. A dangerous location for young soldiers who get paid Local Overseas Allowance! 2013 I passed the Fire Teams Commanders Course (FTCC) and returned to battalion 7 weeks later as a Lance Corporal. Despite nearly 2 years living in the sun with the beach as our back garden, the Battalion’s darkest day was upon us. Due to Army cuts, the battalion was to be disbanded.

This resulted in the majority of us being posted back to the UK and joining the First Battalion in Tidworth. 1RRF were an Armoured Infantry battalion and was equipped with the Warrior Armoured Fighting Vehicle. Before I knew it I had completed my Gunner’s course and was appointed as the Platoon Commanders gunner. One day we were on exercise and I was scanning the ground using the Warrior’s sighting systems, traversing the turret to get a 360 view. The commander’s turret control overrides the gunners and without warning the turret turned, trapping my legs down the driver’s tunnel! You can imagine the obscenities I unloaded on the young boss.

In 2016, I returned back to Sennybridge and the Brecon Beacons to complete the Section Commanders Battle Course (SCBC) which promoted me to Corporal. This promotion also meant I was a prime candidate to be a Vehicle commander and then was sent on the Regimental Instructor of Gunnery course. Despite coming second on the course, I was not confident with teaching gunnery. I did not enjoy the armoured role and became disengaged.

I began to question my career, not only in the Fusiliers but also in the Army. Fortunately, a posting to the Army Training Centre (Pirbright) became available and in October 2017 I became a Phase 1 instructor. This 2-year posting was one of the highlights of my career so far. Being able to take a civilian on day 1, spend 14 weeks training them, and then watch them march of the parade square as soldiers was an incredibly proud moment. A feeling which never dulled and always reminded me of my own pass out in 2009.

With Pirbright being a multi-cap badged establishment, I was able to explore the other roles the Army offered and gain feedback from other instructors. Being part of Chavasse Company, I was introduced to the 4 Corps making up the Army Medical Services: the RAMC, RADC, RAVC and QARANC. The Queen Alexandra’s Royal Army Nursing Corps... wait... the British Army has their own nurses?! How did I spend 8 years not knowing nursing was a thing in the Army?!

I decided a medical profession would be my preferred job role. I thought about becoming a Combat Medical Technician but something there was missing. I wanted more. I wanted to get the most from the Army. I wanted to help people and have more opportunities in the future. I looked into nursing and was sold immediately. It ticked all the boxes and gave me a new challenge. A new purpose. However, I did not tick all the boxes. I only achieved a grade D in science at school and Nursing required a C or above. Many people didn’t believe I could do it and said I should “just be an HCA”. This made me more determined. One, to prove to them I was capable and two, to prove to myself I was able to complete a university degree. I spent 9 months completing an Access to Nursing course and then attended the nursing board.

January 2020, I moved to Birmingham and became a phase 2 trainee again.......

Cpl Danny Shilling QARANC Student Nurse

In Good Times and In Bad

 

BMH Iserlohn

It's me again and I promise this is not a takeover of the blog. We do have other people lined up but as it's December everyone has other things on their mind. It was ever thus in the military as well - the month leading up to Christmas took on a whole new level of frenzy. Where ever you were posted, December was always magical. This got me thinking about the good times and the bad times in the QA's.

I'd like to start with the bad. Not that there were that many bad times as I loved every minute of my time as a QA. There was always a particularly stern matron whose look could turn you to stone at some imagined transgression. And the times you booked theatre tickets only to find someone had gone sick and you were suddenly on night duty. My most hated part was the BFTs. I did them. I passed them. I forget about them until the time came around again when a sadistic PTI reminded me I needed to get myself out running. I know, I know, many people loved them but I'm a sprinter and the 100 yards was my thing. A BFT was much longer than that. Let's leave the bad times in the past where they very firmly belong.

The good times far outnumbered the bad and were glorious. The many postings, seeing the world, getting to know new people, all of that made us better people ourselves and much more compassionate and friendly. You always knew, no matter how often you were posted that you would fit right in and everyone would welcome you with open arms and look out for you. When saying goodbye to friends you knew you would see them again in a future posting. The nursing experience we gained was second to none and the social life could not be imagined by anyone other than military personnel. I remember the balls with funfairs and partying throughout the night until dawn brought breakfast. The Christmas Balls were particularly spectacular. From regimental breakfasts to regimental dinners, from cocktail parties to wine and cheese evenings, from junk trips to barbecues we did it all and enjoyed every minute. 

In terms of postings we often had to take the good with the bad. Some of the accommodation was phenomenal as in the Officers Mess in BMH Iserlohn. Other accommodation we shall say was less than luxurious with cracks in the walls which seemed to grow bigger by the day and were pretty much held together by blueback. It didn't matter because in the end the camaraderie, our fellow QA's and the friendships we made pretty much made up for it all. I would say that the good times far outweighed the bad and I would do it all again in a heartbeat.  

About the Writer

 

Wendy H. Jones served as a Nursing Officer in the QARANC between 1987 and 2004 leaving with the rank of Major. She never went on an operational tour but undertook many exercises as well as serving in numerous units in both the UK and overseas. Hong Kong and Jerusalem had to be two of the highlights. Moving into nurse education, she was proud to have served as Tri-Service Head of Pre-Registration Nurse Education. This brought her full circle to where she started as a student nurse in the QARNNS. She is now an author and lives in Scotland. 

St Andrew's Day Hong Kong Style by Wendy H. Jones

 

Now, before you think I've come over all patriotic the idea for this blog came to me as we are fast heading for St.Andrew's Day - 30th November to be precise. This took me back to a rather spectacular St Andrew's  Day dinner in Hong Kong. It just so happened that in 1991 I happened to be the messing member for the Officers Mess at BMH Hong Kong. There also happened to be a regimental dinner on the 30th November and not only was the messing member Scottish but also the matron and deputy matron. This fortuitous set of circumstances meant that the dinner just had to be Scottish from start to finish as the messing member had full control over the menu. 

I won't go into detail regarding the discussion with the chef over the menu. Let's just say he felt it may be a tad on the heavy side. Reading between his very lengthy lines I think his thoughts turned to the where does this blasted (other words are available) officer think I'm going to scare up all of this in Hong Kong? Suffice to say, I won the battle and the menu went as follows

Scotch Broth

Haggis with a whisky chaser

Fillet of Scotch beef

Athol Brose

Scottish cheese board.

I took my hat off to the chef when he managed the whole lot including the haggis. To say I was dumbfounded would be an understatement. The dinner was a triumph; everyone present said it made a great change and the celebratory mood was palpable. You can always rely on the AMS to enter into the spirit of any party. Whether the beef was actually Scottish is open to debate but after the whisky chaser I'm not entirely sure anyone cared. I had a blast, as did everyone else and I seem to remember some Scottish singing at the end, although my memories of that may be hazy. 

About the Writer

 

Wendy H. Jones served as a Nursing Officer in the QARANC between 1987 and 2004 leaving with the rank of Major. She never went on an operational tour but undertook many exercises as well as serving in numerous units in both the UK and overseas. Hong Kong and Jerusalem had to be two of the highlights. Moving into nurse education, she was proud to have served as Tri-Service Head of Pre-Registration Nurse Education. This brought her full circle to where she started as a student nurse in the QARNNS. She is now an author and lives in Scotland. 

A Rather Special Day Out by Wendy H. Jones

 

One thing you don't realise when you sign on the dotted line to join the QARANC are the interesting things that will happen to you during the course of your career. I certainly didn't realise that QARANC officers could be called upon to carry out medical cover for royal occasions. You can imagine my surprise then, when I was called up to matron's office to be told I would be spending a day at Royal Hospital Chelsea while The Duchess of York, Sarah Ferguson, inspected the Chelsea Pensioners. I was to be her personal nurse for the day. To be honest my first thought was, it's a hospital, they must be swimming in nurses, but I was never one to shirk my duties, royal or otherwise. And a day out at the firm's expense, even if I was working, sounded like a jolly good idea.

So, I was picked up by car and duly presented at The Royal Hospital Chelsea where I spent an extremely pleasant day. Of course, I had to be alert for medical emergencies, but the sun was shining I was outdoors in the rather splendid grounds, and the atmosphere crackled with excitement and festivity. It was like spending a day at a gala. The Chelsea Pensioners, resplendent in their red coats and tricorn hats, looked amazing on parade. The Duchess of York carried out her royal duties beautifully chatting to the pensioners and making each one feel like they were the most special person earth. And of course one cannot forget the interior of the Royal Hospital itself which was, and still is, stunning. I am glad to report there were no medical emergencies and I really did have a day out and a jolly nice lunch as well. 

I can honestly say I am glad I was chosen for this duty. It was a special experience of an equally special place and one I will never forget. 

About the Writer

 

Wendy H. Jones served as a Nursing Officer in the QARANC between 1987 and 2004 leaving with the rank of Major. She never went on an operational tour but undertook many exercises as well as serving in numerous units in both the UK and overseas. Hong Kong and Jerusalem had to be two of the highlights. Moving into nurse education, she was proud to have served as Tri-Service Head of Pre-Registration Nurse Education. This brought her full circle to where she started as a student nurse in the QARNNS. She is now an author and lives in Scotland. 

The Advertisement That Changed My Life Path by Moreen Doyle

 Well, here I am again, my blogs or memories are going backwards!! The R in QARANC is certainly indicative of the process. Reminiscing!

The year is 1966. At the tender age of 17, I realise that I want to do nursing as a career! What do I do?  I live on a Scottish island so will have to leave for the city to undertake training, but which one? Would I be accepted having left school without qualifications because I was offered a job working with our local optician! 

I am encouraged to attend for interview at a training school in Glasgow, purported to be the best, although I guess this would be challenged by some! Spending a day there, taking the DC Entrance Test, named after its creator Professor Dennis Child; it was psychometric in nature and covered maths, English and IQ skills. Organised by the old General Nursing Council, now the NMC, it was an accepted route into nursing by many schools of nursing. It was finally abolished by the government in favour of NVQs.

Memories of the day and the classroom of the School of Nursing are clear. I was totally unaware of the whole process or expectations. 'Write an essay on a topical event of the day' or 'your favourite holiday'! Well, we didn’t have many holidays so it had to be topical. I wrote an essay on the Seamans Strike which was happening at the time. My knowledge of this came only from the fact that I lived on an island and the sea was an important part of our economy and lives. Empty shelves in the one and only supermarket! History does repeat itself sometimes!

I was granted a place to commence some six months later but somehow fate played its part when I saw an advertisement in my Mums Womans Own Magazine. QA Army Nursing - 'come and join us', accompanied by a wonderful photo of a Red Caped Nurse. That was it! Job done! That was what I was going to do! A letter of Thank you but no thanks to the said hospital, displeasing my Mother at the time. I think she regretted having that magazine!

Meeting with our lovely recruitment officer, Derek, on the island, amazingly we did have one, he planned an interview in Inverness, a couple of hours train journey away. A lovely old Colonel (probably not so old but we were very young) took us through another DC test.

Three of us, Elizabeth from the north of Scotland and Heather from one of the other islands spent the day learning about the Army and options available. At the end of the day we were all accepted and I was fortunate enough to be able to undertake SRN training as it was then and to commence six months hence. We would have to sign on for four years.

Wow, that is quite a long time! I had better be sure that nursing is really for me! With this in mind I applied to work for six months as an Auxiliary Nurse, then called, at a major hospital in Glasgow where two of my friends worked, not the one I had applied to before!

 I would have to say that these six months gave me an absolute grounding in real nursing care working on a Female Medical ward with amazing staff. The Sister in Charge became my role model for how to be inclusive and how to interrelate with your staff at all levels. It was in the days of Nightingale Wards and 'back rounds' with not a pressure sore in sight. She and I would zip round making all the beds, hospital corners included. Busy, busy times with few staff but somehow the care was excellent. A major learning curve for me and it stood me in good stead for the future. 

Then came the time to head south to join the QAs. It was a bit of a journey! First of all, came the ferry from Skye to Kyle of Lochalse, then the train to Inverness where I met up with Elizabeth and Heather. We were like the three Musketeers heading in the overnight sleeper train from Inverness, excited but with some trepidation. We did not book cabins but shared a carriage, dozing fitfully as we could. Arriving at Euston station pretty jaded, we sat for a while waiting to transfer to Aldershot. I was mesmerised by the number of people scurrying along the platforms like little ants, many in bowler hats, carrying umbrellas! I have never seen so many people! and they all looked the same! It was like a relentless tide! Why the umbrellas! That was a West Highland necessity, surely not London?

 Arriving in Aldershot we found transport waiting for us with a warm welcome, other new recruits arriving in tandem. You could feel the excitement within the little group on the way to the Royal Pavilion which was to be our home for the next four months. I remember clearly driving up the drive with the colourful bushes on each side – a bit like arriving at a stately home.

I was very surprised that we had to undergo another test on the morning of arrival when we were so tired but somehow we survived, or maybe they made allowances for us, I don’t know!

It was new beginnings for all of us and the development of friendships which would endure for the rest of our lives.

  

Moreen Doyle, nee Munro, spent 2 years in student training at BMH Singapore but left theservice on marriage, which was expected at this time. However, the time spent in the service underpinned a lifetime of nursing service in the NHS, specialising in Operating Theatres and Day Surgery and ended her career managing the service in Cayman Islands prior to retirement

HALLOWEEN HORROR IN RINTELN by Eileen Nolan

Now, I enjoy a good scary film as much as the next person. In fact, when I was in my mid- teens, my eldest brother would take me to the local cinema to watch “X” rated horror films. I am not sure how we actually got through the door, but we did, and I remember seeing “The Thing” and “The Drip” at the cinema with him. At home, my parents didn’t mind me watching the Hammer House of Horror films, Edgar Allen Poe, Frankenstein and Dracula. All water off a duck’s back except that I do seem to have an aversion to Bats for some reason! The thing is with these old horror films is that Good always triumphed over Evil so I never lost any sleep over them. That is, until I was posted to Rinteln! 

Let me set the scene…….BMH Rinteln in 1975 was a lovely place in a rural setting. It was a short walk into town and a different short walk to the railway station giving access to all over Germany and even to the Hoek of Holland to get the overnight ferry to Harwich.

It did however, have one drawback that I could see - there wasn’t exactly a lot to keep you busy in the evenings short of the NAAFI bar or going down the bars in town. We had no televisions in the accommodation and even if we did, there wouldn’t have been a lot of point in watching it as there were hardly any programmes in English! We did have the wonderful BFBS (British Forces Broadcasting Service) which entertained us via the radio and on a Tuesday evening, my roommate and I would settle down to listen to the Sherlock Holmes Mysteries. Imagine!

The other thing we did have was Friday Night Film Night in the NAAFI bar. It was the highlight of the week and was always packed. Often, we did not even know what film was being shown and we didn’t really care as it was just a great social event.

Everyone went no matter what rank and even patients who were fit enough were able to go over provided they were back on the ward within thirty minutes of the film ending. That was to try to stop them partaking of the bar of course!! The NAAFI was directly opposite the main entrance to the hospital so not exactly a long walk back to the hospital bed.

Well, October 31st 1975, Halloween night was a Friday and we did not know in advance what film was being shown. I remember several of us second year student nurses going in excitedly and finding good seats. The seats of course were simply individual chairs placed in rows, not the comfy padded seats you get in cinemas.

Then the film started!!!!!! OMG, if you have never seen “The Exorcist”, my one piece of advice to you is…..dont!!!

The film started innocently enough and the theme tune was Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells. I loved that music and the first present my boyfriend at the time (now my long suffering husband) had bought me was a cassette tape of the album which I played regularly. 

As the film progressed, there was a lot of squirming in the seats with some people looking for a way out. We unfortunately, were right in the middle and very much locked in and felt we couldn’t go anywhere for fear of humiliation by our RAMC colleagues for being scaredy cats! So, we sat it out and I held onto the fact that all horror films come right in the end and Good always triumphs over Evil! How wrong I was. I won’t give the game away just in case any of you feel you want to see the film after my wonderful review of it but lets just say, I think it was the first of a line of films where my belief in Good triumphing over Evil did not hold true and I can assure you, I have never seen the sequels!

When the film ended, none of us were in any state to go to bed to sleep and that was the night I was introduced to German wine (good old Liebfraumilch – can't stand the stuff now)! My roommate and I had only arrived in Rinteln a few weeks earlier and up until that point, I didn’t really drink alcohol very much but our group of students ended up in one room and we talked and talked into the early hours. No-one wanted to be the first to go to bed and the wine flowed freely I think, in an attempt to dull the memory of that film. It didn’t work of course as forty six years later, I can still remember the film only too well and the thought of it still scares the life out of me!

Oh, just in case you were wondering, my cassette tape of Tubular Bells was never played again and was dumped in the rubbish bin. I did confess all to my boyfriend and he forgave me as he was, and still is a scaredy cat when it comes to horror films, even Watership Down had him gripping the seat!!!!!.

I do still get the shivers when I hear Tubular Bells being played……..!

 

Eileen Nolan       1974-1975  CMH, 1975 – 1977 BMH Rinteln, 1977 – 1978 Royal Herbert and QEMH

                               

The Dynamic Dinosaurs 2021 AGM by Jan Westbury

The Dynamic Dinosaurs, as we call ourselves in the Jurassic Coast Branch of the QARANC Association, met for our annual AGM on Saturday 16th October 2021.

What a treat.  Not only because it was our first face to face AGM since 2019, due to the COVID 19 Pandemic and lockdown restrictions, but the committee had organised a great venue.

This is the view from the Haven Hotel, Poole, looking across to Studland and the Dorset hills in the background.

Coffee on arrival and time to chat and buy from our table sale to raise funds for the branch.  Over a £100 was raised by members who had donated a variety of gifts.  We were also able to distribute the Blog booklets that were printed to celebrate a year of weekly blogs.

What a happy group of branch members and their guests. We are so proud of our flag.

During the AGM, chaired by Marjorie Bandy, while the branch did the work our guests sat outside enjoying the autumn sunshine with a drink.

After the AGM time for a delicious lunch and more chatter.

A lovely way to spend a Saturday and meet up with friends.

COVID 19 - QARANC Student Nurse Clinical Placement Experience by Fiona Farrell

My experience working in a Covid-19 environment has been both very interesting and emotional. I worked on a Covid ward for my first, year two clinical placement. Although the patients were a step down from intensive care, patients were still testing positive for the virus. On the ward, staff wore facial masks and visors and only entering the side rooms did we wear the full Personal Protective Equipment (PPE). I felt very apprehensive, yet a sense of pride, because I was involved in helping patients that were so poorly and unable to communicate effectively.

This was very challenging as I had to put my skills of year one as a student nurse to the test, after all I was an advocate for those who could not speak up for themselves. I felt like I had been thrown in the deep end and counted in the numbers. However, I did not see this as a bad thing, if anything it opened my eyes and tested my skills, I had to use my initiative and take responsibility if I felt something was not quite right, I would escalate my findings and inform the nurse straight away.

I witnessed a lot of people die, which I think I will find the hardest throughout my future career, yet still be able to manage. Finishing one shift and being told at the next morning handover that a patient you were looking after had passed away through the night is hard to hear, even though you did everything you could as a team to save them, but just wasn’t enough, it is heart-breaking. However, what I took away was, we gave the patient the best care that we could and made that patient comfortable. They were not alone, as their relatives were by their side as they passed away peacefully. The most comforting thing I found, which may seem morbid to some people, was performing the last offices. I think that it is an honour and a privilege to be the last person with the patient to say a final farewell to them.

I had the first vaccine and within a few days started feeling unwell. I tested positive for Covid-19 and was ill for 3 weeks. It was very frightening because I felt extremely vulnerable and also felt in the same shoes as the patients I was looking after a few days before. This experience has taught me not to take things for granted, even though the majority of cases were elderly people, I am young and still contracted the virus. Luckily, I was not hospitalised.

I think that this pandemic has changed all our lives forever. It has shown us that as a human race how adaptable we can be.

Studying from home was difficult, having lectures over MS Teams meant that sometimes the connection was poor and I had to go back and watch the power point presentation again. I felt that there was not the same interaction that is experienced sitting in the lecture theatre together, such as bouncing ideas off each other and just having human interaction in general. On the plus side cups of tea were not on short supply. Living on my own through this pandemic has been lonely yet has built my resilience. I will be looking forward to going back to university and studying alongside my peers again and getting back into a regular routine.



- Pte Farrell Intake 01/19

Covid 19 A QARANC Student Nurse’s Experience by Bethany Neame

After many years of attempting to get into nursing, having undertaken an access into nursing course, retaken my maths functional skills course and completed my basic training, what seemed the impossible finally happened and I moved into my university accommodation ready to start the 3 year nursing degree. However, just 8 weeks into the course the global Covid 19 pandemic hit and we were sent home. As first years we were pulled from all placements as we were deemed more of a burden to mentors and wards who supervise and look after us.

After almost a whole year of waiting we were finally allocated 8 weeks of clinical placement at the end of our first year. No amount of preparation can prepare you for your first big day on your ward. I had visited the week before with another fellow nursing student I knew was on the same ward so I knew where I was going on my first day. I had called up and introduced myself, got my shifts for that week and found out who my mentor was, but the moment I arrived I felt totally lost. I had no experience of working on wards and in hospitals before, so I hopelessly followed my mentor round to the morning handover, but didn’t understand a single word. Only that on the night shift a patient had died and we were waiting for the porters.

I hadn’t been on placement during the first wave, but I was told in the second wave there were a lot more deaths, so the porters were always very busy and often late, so we would find ourselves struggling for bed spaces when we were waiting for a patient to be collected after they died. This ward was previously an elderly care ward, but in the pandemic, it became a closed Covid positive ward where elderly would go if they were Covid positive or to complete their isolation before they were discharged. Unfortunately, many didn’t often survive to be discharged.

After a few weeks of clinical placement, I began to understand how the ward ran from an HCAs perspective, but didn’t manage to get much time with my nurse mentors as it was always so busy. Almost every handover reported a patient loss and I finally had my first experience of doing the last offices. Previously I had been a carer for 9 years, but I never saw or experienced any death, I thought I would be okay but in that moment I found myself thankful for having a face mask to cover my quivering chin and a visor to hide my glossy eyes.

My mentors were good with checking on me but for the most part I found myself mostly left and lost, unsure of what to do and stressed about getting my competency book signed. As our only clinical placement for our first year in nursing, we had our entire book of competencies to get signed in such a short time frame. Plus, I then found myself needing to isolate for 14 days following exposure to Covid. I attempted to plead my case that I worked on a Covid positive ward and that was a lot more exposure. However, that didn’t matter, and I completed my 14 days isolation and lost two weeks’ worth of clinical hours that I will be required to make up in my third year.

After my isolation was finished, I felt deflated and didn’t really want to continue but I knew I had to complete it to pass first year. The first handover back every single patient was different, and it was like starting brand new again. I am thankful for the other student nurse on my ward as it was nice to have someone to voice concerns to and talk about our days too, I think this really helped us both get to the end.

I finally manged to get some time with my mentors to sign my book and it was such a relief to have passed despite losing two weeks of hours and the it only clinical time in my first year.

I look back on my time on the ward as a real eye opener to the struggles of working in a busy hospital ward and commend the way all the staff conducted themselves, no matter how busy or stressful in such a demanding and uncertain time. I never could have predicted that I would be working on a Covid ward through a global pandemic in my first year but I gained valuable experience and insight through being thrown in at the deep end.



Pte Bethany Neame Intake 01/20

Pandemic Life for a QARANC Student Nurse by Kathleen McAuliff

The first outbreak of COVID19 and consequently the changes that followed in 2020, brought a lot of excitement initially. It can be compared to the excitement when you wake up on a snowy morning and listening out for your school on the radio, in the hope that you get a snow day off. However, the reality settled in when it wasn’t just a three-week break from academic work, but a global crisis that resulted in a vast amount of misery, but also triumph. Documented below are a few of my personal experiences from the past 18 months.

University work

- Online lectures were PAINFUL in the beginning. It was very difficult to sit through a lecture with 100+ people who all had a different knowledge of technology. The constant interruptions with people not knowing how to mute their mics was so frustrating and made me disengage with the live lectures.

- However, as time went on I was able to start to appreciate the leisurely life of online university work: not having to set my alarm super early for the commute in, engaging in content at my own pace and taking my dinner break when I wanted! Now, I prefer online working and hope it will continue into the rest of my 2nd year and 3rd year!


Clinical Placement

- Clinical placements for 1st years was delayed, so it was crazy to know that the first time I had contact with a patient was 10 months into the course. It was a little daunting at first. I was placed on a ‘hot’ section of the ward, which meant that these patients were COVID positive patients. Throughout the shift full Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) was required for any patient care/interaction and I had to do a full change between patients. This could be time consuming and I developed contact dermatitis from the continual hand washing. Sometimes I would even leave the hospital with marks on my forehead from the visors. Everyday was different, with protocols changing all the time as our understanding of the virus increased and it really highlighted how much communication was so important with one another.

- The pressures that the staff were put under to work in these environments was daunting to watch, but it also showed to me the true characteristics of what it takes to be a kind human in the face of adversity and gave me insight into the person I want to grow into.


Pte Kathleen McAuliffe Intake 01/20

Life in The Spiders during the mid 70’s by Eileen Nolan

Ahhh “The Spiders”, so aptly named!

For those of you who are too young to know what I am talking about, the Spiders were the wooden huts found at the bottom of the steep stone steps past the Louise Margaret maternity unit at the CMH and this is where the QA junior ranks lived. I don’t know exactly why they were called “Spiders” but I suspect it was due to them having a central corridor with “legs” in the middle and at each corner.

I could be wrong about why they were named as such but those of us who had the pleasure of living in the Spiders know they could have been so called for other reasons! You see, we humans knew we were not the only occupants! The other residents had many more legs than us and certainly moved a lot faster. A drill sergeant would have had great fun with them!

It wasn’t so much the actual real live spiders I minded – they eat flies after all, but I was more concerned about the hard-shelled cockroaches which ran about the floor, the occasional field mouse which came in out of the cold, the ants and the squirrels which held a barn dance on the roof every day when you were trying to sleep after night duty! I clearly remember waking up one morning and I opened my eyes to find one of those cockroach things on my pillow just looking at me. I have never moved so fast in all my life!

The ants of course were after our night duty rations! Remember them?……just in case you were likely to starve on night duty, we were issued with soup x 2 tins (assorted varieties), cream crackers x 1 packet, cheese triangles x 1 packet and sweet plain biscuits x 1 packet. Unless you had an airtight tin in your room, it was an open invitation to the ants!

The rooms in the Spiders were not very big but I was lucky to have the first room in the corridor which was bigger than all the others. The only problem with this was that it was the nearest room to the stairs which were wooden and had no carpet, hence the noisiest room. Everything was wooden – the walls, the floors, the roof, and the building echoed with the noise!! As for sleeping on night duty, let’s just say that the night duty rations came in handy! Well, you had to do something while listening to the squirrels on the roof, the regular grass cutting immediately outside your window and the doors banging from within.

My room was also the first room in the corridor to be subject to “bed check” every night when we were in PTS (Preliminary Training School). This bed check took place around 22.30hrs when the duty Officer and duty NCO came around and knocked on your door to ensure you were safely tucked up for the night. Of course, as soon as bed check was complete, those who wanted to go out, did so! I never did as I was too scared to disobey orders! If the gate was locked, no problem, as there was a convenient hole in the wire fence.

I lived in the second Spider on the left at the bottom of the steps. I cannot remember if this was F Spider or G Spider but whichever one it was, the first Spider at the bottom of the steps is where the only television, sitting room and phone were so we all spent most of our off duty time in that Spider which was a hive of activity. On one hand it was very noisy and you never got to watch the programme on television you wanted (we only had the choice of three programmes back then), but on the other hand it was lively and great fun.

The only telephone was attached to the wall just outside the sitting room and to get to the sitting room, you had to pass whoever was on the phone. If a call came in for someone, it was usually answered by whoever was in the sitting room at the time. If the intended recipient of the call, was not immediately there, the person who answered the call would often run to fetch that person for their call even if this meant running down the road to the next Spider! Sometimes however, if the intended recipient was not present, the caller was just told to ring back later. It made sense to plan calls in advance which was all very well so long as there was no-one else on the phone at that time. Remember, we didn’t have mobile phones in the 70’s.

The walls in the Spiders were very thin and although there was a door to the sitting room, this telephone was not the place for private calls – you definitely couldn’t have that cosy chat with a boyfriend, without everyone knowing about it! Most of the time this was a bit of a nuisance however, I remember a time in December 1974 when this lack of privacy came to my aid. It was in the evening and the sitting room was busy when I took a call from home and it was bad news. I ended up sobbing on the phone. The minute I put the phone down, the door opened and I was engulfed in a giant hug from my friends and colleagues. They didn’t know exactly why I was upset, just that I was. They got me through that evening.

Yes, the Spiders were noisy, draughty, and full of unwelcome visitors, but they were also full of fun, laughter and friendship. When I reflect on it all these years later, I know I would rather spend a year living in the Spiders with all its drawbacks than the few months I spent living in the brand new, purpose built, insect free accommodation at the QEMH where I rarely saw or heard anyone from one shift to the next.

So, did you live in the Spiders? Did you sneak out after bed check? I would love to hear your stories.



Eileen Nolan

1974 - 1978

Operation Fine Dining by Diana Wilson

 In1996 seismic changes took place in the Army Medical Services. No longer would there be care from ‘cradle to grave’ for British Military personnel worldwide. The majority of Army Hospitals and medical units would close, and civilian hospitals would undertake peacetime care.

I was working at the Training and Development Unit at Mytchett at the time, and with plenty of other ideas in mind, was happy to accept redundancy. As was Dee McElligott who at the time was I/C Military Training Wing. It was Dee’s suggestion that we should form a Dining Club to remind ourselves, in the best possible way, of days past. Rules were drawn up; no more than 8 persons, meet every two months, and that good, preferably gourmet, food was the main aim. Of course, the chat and comradeship went without saying. Founder members were Dee McElligott, Diana Wilson, Judy Evans, Margaret Easy, Pat Griffiths, Ethel McCombe and Anne Kerr.

And so it came to pass, and for the first few years we found many good local restaurants. As members started moving away to other areas in the South our footfall increased and Salisbury and Winchester, and all venues leading to them, were added to the list. Illness and dare I say it, age, sometimes took its toll and members had to fall out or move away, but vacancies were soon filled. And one ‘husband of’. Still, we continued to meet every two months. On our 10th Anniversary (who would believe it!) we had a very enjoyable day trip with Eurostar to Lille for a typical French Bistro meal.

Time moved on, and astonishingly we were approaching our 25th Anniversary. Then the pandemic and lockdown struck. We didn’t attempt Zoom meals or online social get togethers; we were true to our purpose. But in 18 months much can change. Distance, age, and different commitments were all having an effect. So, after an amazing 25 years it was agreed that wemight formally close the Dining Club, but go out in style. And so, we did, arranging a Champagne afternoon Tea at Tylney Hall Hotel.

It was only as we were leaving that we realised that we were too busy talking, laughing, and generally catching up to notice that we hadn’t had the champagne, and really were wondering why we were closing the dining club? And so we cancelled the closure, rewrote the rules to six monthly meetings and no night driving, and look forward to the next 25 years………………….

In addition to the first four founder members who are still flourishing, the following personnel make up the group of eight; Iona-Leith Macgregor, Marie Ellis, Keith Wilson and Tena McMachan.

Maj (Rtd) Diana Wilson

Meeting Princess Margaret by Karla Buswell

Just before I joined the army, I completed my Queen’s Guide Award as a girl guide young leader. This was the top award and quite an achievement. It’s like the Duke of Edinburgh Gold award. I was invited to Kensington Palace to be presented with my award from Her Royal Highness, Princess Margaret.

I needed a day off from ward duties and requested this from the ward sister. She informed me I needed the permission of Matron because Princess Margaret was our Colonel-in-Chief. It was decided that I would wear my No. 2 dress. A Guardsman, a patient at the time,  kindly bulled up my court shoes for me and taught me the trick of putting them in tights to protect them during storage and to maintain the shine.

It was during this time that the IRA were bombing London, so the CSM arranged transport for me, since I would be travelling in uniform.

One hot and sunny day in July 1989, I was taken from the Queen Elizabeth Military Hospital in a gleaming private black car to Kensington Palace.

We were put in a waiting room and called forward individually to meet the Princess. I was the only one in military uniform. When it was my turn to be presented, her eyes lit up upon seeing my QA No. 2s. She called me, ‘One of her girls!’ We had a brief chat about my time in the army so far. As you can see in the photo, I was then presented with my brooch in a box and the usher politely informed Her Royal Highness that she needed to stop chatting to me about the army and present more brooches to the other Guiders.

We were then ushered out of the room and sent on our way. I was disappointed not to have any refreshments, but it was worth it to see and speak with our Colonel-in-Chief.

During my time at the QEMH I volunteered as a helper at the local Brownie pack. This was conveniently located at the back of my accommodation in a large building across from the NAAFI. It was great fun and we had trips out to locations like Margate and Greenwich. Many of the staff’s children attended and I used to babysit for some of the families so that they could attend functions at the Messes. On my next posting I volunteered at a local Cub’s pack. Though this was civilian, there were a few sons of QAs and soldiers. We had great water fights during summer camps!

I completed my student nursing and qualified, at the Cambridge Military Hospital in Aldershot, in 1992. I enjoyed working on a male surgical ward for another year, before leaving so that I could accompany my husband, Chris, also a QA, to Cyprus, where our two children were born.

I look back fondly at my QARANC career and have made some great life-long friends. We recently had a reunion in Birmingham and caught up with each other’s lives. One of my friends is now a Dame and a Brigadier! We keep in touch via a group WhatsApp and I can’t wait for the next reunion. Some of us have had the BIG 50 birthday and several of us surprised one during his celebrations in Seaham where the famous Tommy sculpture is. It’s a breath-taking and humble sight.

I now work as a pet portrait artist and live in Aberdeenshire with Chris and his Mistress, his dog Lynne.

Private Karla Buswell (Nee Partridge) 1987-1992

Service in Bosnia with 24 Armoured Field Ambulance 1997. By Maggie Lane

I was called for service in September 1997 with 24 Armoured Field Ambulance (24 Armd Fd Amb) based in Catterick, who were being deployed to Bosnia in the former republic of Yugoslavia (FRY). Bosnia was being ‘stabilised’ by SFOR/NATO forces. This operation was named OP LODESTAR.

With ongoing unrest in Bosnia, the main ethnic groups remained volatile throughout FRY.

Various packages of training were a pre deployment requisite and were called UNTAT training (United Nations Training Assistance Teams), These were located around the Salisbury Plain Training area. We spent this period billeted in Knook camp near Warminster.

The next days were spent in the Copehill Down Training facility. This being a mock-up village resembling the buildings and villages in the old Eastern bloc countries. The training was geared mainly to the infantry, but we still had to join in. We would to be carrying a loaded pistol with 6 rounds whenever travelling throughout Bosnia. I enjoyed the pistol training at Warminster, which was important but also fun, especially rolling around on the ground then having to shoot targets down the range.

Navigating the buildings in the mock-up village was something new for me! Jumping and climbing up and down buildings then crawling along underground drains was challenging, but all the females completed this. However, I hoped it was never going to be such a bad enough situation in theatre to employ these newly acquired skills.

Once this UNTAT training was completed, we were transported to 24 Armd Fd Amb in Catterick.

On arrival It was the day of Princes Diana’s Funeral, so everyone in the mess was ‘glued’ on the service, as were four Icelandic medical staff, two nurses and two doctors. Despite being part of NATO Iceland has no standing army.  However, their government provided doctors and nurses to accompany the Brits or the Norwegian medics. All spoke perfect English and had studied much of their medicine in English.

After meeting the CO and other staff of the unit, a few days later we set off on a Hercules for Split in Croatia. Split being the POE (Point of Entry) via Croatia into Bosnia.

After landing, we collected our baggage and weapons from a transfer store and proceeded in a coach up through Croatia to Bosnia.

I was ‘dropped off’ at a pre located isolated country junction to the east of Tomislavgrad where I was met by a waiting Land Rover and taken to our small camp called Lipa. 

Lipa was situated on a Divisional Supply Area between two rough roads named Route Gull and Kite. Weapons and fuel were located at this site for resupply to bases up country, including Sarajevo. Munitions and fuel were kept well apart! All the MSR’s (main supply routes) in Bosnia were named after birds.

Med Centre

Accommodation was in 2-man portacabins which were comfortable and warm. 

The medical centre was in a portacabin. 

The RLC (Royal Logistic Corps) oversaw the whole site.

I had been designated as the Officer in Charge of this small medical team which consisted of a Driver/Radio Operator, a sergeant plus seven medics.

Their training had been excellent, and our role was to attend any accidents within the camp and RTA’s on our sections of the MSR’s. My role was as a primary health care and minor injuries nurse to all troops, including Malaysians who patrolled the area in armoured vehicles. Patients requiring hospital treatment were evacuated by our ambulance or helicopter to Sipovo.

There was no water in the camp, therefore water was brought in by a ‘bowser’ (water tanker). This precious commodity was used very sparingly. Most of us managed to stand in a washing up bowl, then use a plastic bottle to recycle the water over our bodies from the bowl. Very refreshing!

There was great excitement when about 700 meters outside the camp a water source was found. Engineers attached a pump to provide a water supply up to the camp. All worked well until unfortunately, the locals spotted this valuable equipment, and it got ‘nicked’. So back to the bowser again. Another little bit of ‘fun’ indulged in by the locals (probably drink related) was to occasionally drive up past the camp and fire a few shots inside.

Our nearest SMO was based an hour away, at Kupres, and both he and the Icelandic doctors would alternate their visits to do small sick parades. This was a nice chance to meet up and for them to see some of Bosnia, which is a beautiful country. Likewise, I found an excuse to visit the medical facility at Gorni Vakuf further up country to drop off some mail and see the countryside. Sadly, much dangerous debris left by the Serbian army was still lying around.

Occasional visitors passed through the camp enroute to Sipovo. One American Officer introducing himself said he had been advised when introducing himself, was to say “Hi, my name is Randy”, not “Hi, I’m Randy”!

The main HQ of 24 Armd Fd Amb, and the hospital were located in Sipovo, the Serbian area. Getting there was a two-hour rough road journey via Kupres, crossing the IEBL (Inter Entity Boundary Line) but only if the snow had not blocked the route. The poor Malaysians guarded this very cold dividing line at a place called Rastacevo.‘Ice Station Zebra’.

During my six-month tour I was dispatched to Banja Luka medical facility for a break and asked to go out on patrol with the Queens Dragoon Guards around local areas.

Having completed my six month ‘tour’, my last duty was to be in charge of weapons being returned to UK. I wasn’t keen on this responsibility!

I enjoyed my time in Bosnia, a beautiful but ‘trashed’ country in parts. I have since read much about their past and recent history. I learned that not all was bad about the Ottoman Turkish rule. Any place name ending in Vakuf became communities, well established with schools and hospitals. Many Bosnian Muslims are converts due to this and were then well prized by the Turks as administrators.

Major M Lane (Rtd) 

A Taste of Basic Training at the QATC in the Summer of ‘74 by Eileen Nolan

Isn’t memory a funny thing? I can remember so much of my basic training as if it were yesterday but other things, not so much. For example, we were never fed at the QATC! It’s true! I clearly remember the fabulous food at the Cambridge especially the fruit pies, the gorgeous grub in Rinteln where I even learned to like Brussel Sprouts (!) and the superb savouries at Woolwich. But, for the life of me, I cannot remember ever eating at the QATC therefore, we were never fed!! Hold that thought!

My first memory of basic training began a few weeks before I even got to Aldershot when a plain brown envelope landed on the mat at home. On reading the Essential Packing List, my mum exclaimed “what on earth does a 17-year-old want with 2 pantie girdles?"  However, said items were purchased and travelled all the way from Belfast to Aldershot where they were safely tucked away in a drawer.

During that first week of basic, we were all measured for our Number 2 uniform which we were told would take several weeks to make/adjust as it had to fit perfectly. In the meantime, we were to wear our PT kit with huge grey knickers, so big I thought I was back at school! Several weeks later, it was with great excitement that we were issued with our Number 2 Uniform and that evening we all tried on our uniforms. It was at this point we all understood why we needed the pantie girdles! Some of us really struggled to get into our skirts, which is very strange considering we were never fed!

So much was alien to us those first few weeks:

Some of our group found remembering that “a QA is NEVER late, is NEVER on time, but is ALWAYS 5 minutes early”, a bit of a struggle but this is something I took with me throughout my whole nursing career even in the NHS. The trouble is that I expected others to share that philosophy and I was often disappointed.

Learning to salute – “longest way up, shortest way down” is all very well so long as there is no-one standing too close on your right and your arms aren’t too long. Fortunately I don’t have that problem. Saluting was something we all hated doing and knowing that we had to do it in town if an officer approached filled us all with almighty dread. When we were out in a group in Aldershot and we were in uniform, I always tried to be on the far left. Unfortunately, my friends cottoned on to this quite quickly and it was often a jostle when we saw an Officer coming to make sure you weren’t the one standing on the right! Believe me, in Aldershot, there was an Officer around every corner!

Now, weekly Pay Parade was an interesting event. For some of us, it was the first time we had ever been paid and it was certainly more money than most of us had ever had in our possession at one time. So, it was with great anticipation that we followed the orders given on how to conduct ourselves when we received our pay packet (and it literally was a pay packet)! Our orders were that we had to line up in single file in front of a desk according to our service number. On reaching the front of the queue, we had to step forward, salute, state our name, rank, and service number at which point, we would be handed our little sealed pay packet containing notes and coins. If I remember rightly, we were paid around £75. We then had to sign the book, take a step backward, salute again and say, “Pay and book correct Ma’am”, then do an about turn and march off. It was only after doing this for several weeks that it occurred to us that whilst the pay and book may have been correct, we were never actually given the opportunity to open the pay packet at the time or check what was written in the book, to find out if it was correct!!

Memories of square bashing and cross country runs at some ungodly hour in the morning are very fresh. Its funny how some people just never got the hang of “I left, I left, I left the tail of my shirt behind” and I can still hear that drill sergeant trying to “encourage” us to get it right! Which reminds me of the length some went to, to get out of drill. Early on, one of our group felt faint whilst on parade and she was allowed to sit it out while the rest of us carried on………big mistake. But the drill sergeant was not stupid and soon realised the reason for the increasing number who felt faint before drill!

Now, joining the army to undertake student nurse training meant we would be exposed to all manner of tropical diseases and exotic postings. Well, that was the theory anyway but several of our intake never so much as left the UK! However, that didn’t stop the need for vaccinations for all these deadly diseases. During the first week of basic, we were tested for our immunity for things such as TB (Heaf Test), Diphtheria (Schick Test) etc, then the following week we were vaccinated according to our immunity along with other vaccines such as Yellow Fever which I had never heard of at that time. Personally, I had no immunity to anything and got all the vaccines going. The ironic thing about this story is that we were not allowed to leave the QATC at all during that first week. We were given our vaccines on the Thursday and Friday of the second week and the first night we were allowed out was that Friday night and the weekend. Let’s just say that alcohol and several vaccinations so close together do not always sit well!

More basic training memories to come, but in the meantime, if anyone remembers being fed at the QATC, I would love to know what the food was like.





Eileen Nolan

BANGLADESH - A REFLECTION by Marjorie Bandy

I first went to Bangladesh by default. Our TA unit had been asked by the Bangladesh Armed Forces Medical Services [AFMS] to provide a team of nursing officers to teach and improve standards within areas of high dependency care for the Military. At that time our unit was commanded by a consultant anaesthetist of some renown, who spent a fair proportion of his time lecturing world-wide. He considered that based on his own experiences in the third world it would be necessary for the team to take with them an administrator to ensure that the team could spend its limited time in the country actually teaching.

It was decided that the unit admin officer should take up this task. Unfortunately, the planned time frame for this exciting venture had to be changed and the admin officer was then not available. Based on my previous experience I was asked to take his place. So it was that I became “the fat controller!” The first team deployed to Bangladesh in 1993 to work in a very administratively efficient AFMS and my skills as a nurse together were far more necessary than my skills as an administrator. To be fair it subsequently proved our CO right that it was essential that a fairly senior officer was needed to head the team to ensure the programme running “nearly” to plan, but able to manage unexpected and sometimes unusual changes.

To be able to appreciate the difficulties of working in Bangladesh at that time it is necessary to have some understanding of the country’s history. Bangladesh was originally part of the Bengal area of India but unlike much of the Indian continent the predominant religion was Muslim. Following independence for India there was conflict between Muslim and Hindu areas resulting in 1947 with an independent Muslim Pakistan of which Bangladesh was part. This was not a happy marriage and following a very bloody war and the loss of 3 million soldiers and civilians, Bangladesh became an independent country in 1973. The country is overpopulated and very poor, despite 3 rice crops a year unable to feed itself without importing food. The discovery of natural gas in the Bay of Bengal has helped to reduce poverty to some extent.

Each year the team was asked to provide a programme to teach three groups of 10 nursing officers,  ICU technicians and medical assistants. The first year was the most traumatic as the team had no idea what to expect. The culture shock and different way of working were much more difficult that we had imagined despite having done our best to be prepared. Added to this many of the hospital staff were not enthusiastic at our arrival, perhaps thinking that we would attempt to change things completely with no account being taken for their customs, culture and religion.

Within their system staff only look after patients of the same sex and indeed female patients and children are treated in a separate building with the exception of theatres, ICU and CCU. Medical officers who had an opportunity to undergo higher professional training in a western hospital were anxious to improve standards and to introduce a more hands-on care approach for nurses. Picture the scene where wards of 50+ beds had only one trained nurse on duty 0800 – 1400 six days a week and then on call for the rest of the time because there is no trained nurse relief. The task of trying to promote change without causing offence was initially daunting.

On the first visit little was available in the way of visual training aids. The maxim being if you need it take it with you. All of this does not take into account the enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge of our students. On the first visit, aids such as Resus Annie were so old they were almost unusable, as was the overhead projector. On future visits equipment was gradually replaced and upgraded.

The initial plan was to run courses for the full duration of the visit, running separate and joint lectures. Lectures had to take into account the necessity for translation and explanation as we were teaching a group who overall, only spoke Bangladeshi. Once we arrived in theatre, we discovered that the students would be expected to sit a final examination in English. This meant some re-arrangement of our initial programme, that continued on for all successive visits, sometimes because of requests of change by our hosts or illness in a member of the team.

One of the most difficult areas was always practical teaching and hands-on practise by the students. Traditionally nursing officers led the wards in a mostly managerial capacity with nursing aids and relatives carrying out basic nursing care. We soon realised the nurses had little strength for such things as lifting. In addition, the Muslim culture doesn’t allow for physical contact with male patients or indeed work as a pair with a male colleague. Once these boundaries had been realised and our teaching plans adjusted it became easier to plan and implement teaching programmes.

Over a period of time changes and improvements took place. This was noticeable in ICU where patients were provided with nursing care such as washing and passive physio for the unconscious patient. Humidifiers were no longer being left with the same water in between patients, increased response times to dealing with emergencies achieved and protocols gradually being written and implemented are examples of improvements. All of this might seem very little for the cost of sending 6 people annually to Bangladesh, but when one considers the cost of extra days spent in hospital because of pressure sores and the lack of infection control measures, it is a cost saving expense. With the numbers passing through the one military hospital in Dakar alone the potential saving is enormous. 

For me personally the greatest satisfaction came in 1997 when I was given a copy of the Defence Advisor’s report to the Foreign Secretary which suggested that our team was one of the most cost -effective sent to aid this Commonwealth Country [military] during that year.

For everyone who took part in this venture it was a challenge and educationally stimulating, requiring a great deal of preparation to ensure the highest standards of teaching despite the limitations. Everyone learnt to be adaptable to meet with the unexpected. Without doubt everyone who took part gained from experiencing the difficulties of the Third world and to appreciate our NHS. Lastly it would not have been such a success without the work and enthusiasm of all the people who accompanied me.



Marjorie Bandy

Chair Jurassic Coast Branch