Travelling on the Main Supply Route Op Granby (The First Gulf War 1990). By Penny Moody

I had not long been posted to BMH Hannover when our daily routine was totally changed by the news that a large percentage of the hospital staff were to be deployed in our operation role as 32 Field Hospital, part of Op Granby. We were lucky enough to have Christmas at home and returned to depart to Saudi Arabia early January 1990.

We flew via Cyprus and on landing in Saudi travelled to Al Jubail to initially stay with 33 Field Hospital and were accommodated in large warehouses, in what had been a tyre factory. It was at this point that we realised that nearly everyone we had ever know during our service was in Saudi which was very reassuring and made us feel quite at home. 

After a couple of days a 32 Field Hospital forward party of about six people, to include a QA nurse, went ahead to do a recce prior to the main body arrival. Unfortunately, for reasons that were not quite clear, they accidentally crossed the border into Kuwait and the BBC news, for a short period, full of this story and we were all on tenterhooks until we were all eventually reunited.

After a few days the rest of us were to head off on the Main Supply Route (MSR) to our destination near the town of Hafar Al Batin, which is 94km from the Kuwait border and 74km from the Iraq border. The 12th of January was the allocated day. I should just say that the MSR was rather like the M1 on speed. Every vehicle was given a twenty second window to join their slot and if they missed their allocated space had to wait a further 5 or so days for another allocation, so planning was of the essence.

Our coach, with an assortment of 32 Field Hospital staff, headed off at the allotted time. It was a bit of a culture shock for us uninitiated to be on such a busy road with every military vehicle imaginable, mostly huge juggernaut transporters, not only British and American but many other allied nations, heading north towards the Kuwait and Iraqi borders. The busyness also translated to the sky along our route where an assortment of military helicopters from Apache to huge transporters also headed north.

Our journey was as peaceful as could be in this frenetic environment until about 3 pm in the afternoon when we took a break at a military ‘watering hole’ where the vehicles refueled etc. Some of us were asked to wait in an empty tent where we napped lying on the sand waiting to continue onwards. Although all seemed tranquil (ish) to us, obviously there was generally heightened tension, because after a short while an officer charged into our tent and told us we must get back to our bus and head back to Al Jubail immediately, as it was thought Iraq was about to invade. (Not quite how he put it but words to that effect). Our return journey is a bit of a blur but we arrived back quite late with only minimal kit as our Bergen’s etc had all been put on separate 4 tonners! However, our hosts at 33 Field Hospital were mega accommodating and pulled out all the stops with toiletries and other requirements to fulfil most of our needs. We remained at Al Jubail until the 17th of January when we were given another timed slot on the MSR.

So again, we said our farewells and headed back up the MSR into what we thought was familiar territory. How wrong we were in that at some point in the journey, I think mid to late afternoon, it became apparent that the war was about to, or had begun. We first got an inkling that all was not quite as it had been when we saw most, but not all, military personnel along the route had donned their NBC kit, but we knew nothing! We remained fairly uninformed as far as I can remember for the remainder of the journey. (I guess it’s called the fog of war). Those with long wave frequency radios tried to tune into a very crackly BBC world service and we eventually discovered that the war had started. It felt like a bit of an inauspicious day to be travelling, as in the mind, having watched too many war films, supply routes seem to be a good target option. However, we continued our journey with slightly heightened tensions making slow progress until around 6 am the following day we were again delayed because at some point one of the coaches ahead of us had collided with another. I think this was quite common as many of the drivers on this arduous journey became extremely tired. If my memory serves me correctly, we finally arrived mid-morning at Wadi Haifa Al our home and hospital for the next 2 months and nicknamed Desert Rose. However, those experiences are another story and all I will say is, that it was called ’WADI’ Haifa Al Batin for a reason!


Lt. Col.(Rtd) Penny Moody

Being a Royal Military Academy Sandhurst SSgt Instructor as a Nurse by Cally-Jay Brunton.

Cally-Jay and Arthur

Feb 2019 I attended the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst (RMAS) Instructor Cadre, apprehensive but driven, knowing that from the 59 personnel attending only 31 are selected.

The lead up to this had been a combination of being employed as a Section Commander and Platoon Sergeant as well as the RAP Nurse for the 1st Battalion Welsh Guards.

I had always enjoyed teaching and breaking away from the normal path as a nurse, in spite of encountering frequent obstacles and often being told ‘you can’t do that, you’re a nurse’, whilst maintaining my current and competent clinical status.

I have met some inspirational people throughout this journey to get to the RMAS. Some nurses, but mostly those from the Infantry background; as colleagues and role models.

I am now coming to the end of my two-year tenure as a SSgt Instructor, I wouldn’t change this journey at all. Learning a lot about myself, pushing mentally and physically in lots of areas I would not usually venture towards due to my trade as a Primary Heath Care nurse.

I cannot advocate this decision enough if there are people who are interested in pursuing a slightly off-piste route whilst maintaining clinical competence. It has been hard at times, but the pros have outweighed the cons in lots of areas. Enjoying the ‘green’ aspects from making dems for battle-noise simulation on exercise to drill on the Old College parade square.

My final weeks at the RMAS will be spent preparing for an exercise abroad.



SSgt Cally-Jay Brunton QARANC

A QA Scores for the AMS Cricketers by Patsy May

 

My Dad was a fireman serving at Islington fire station, mad about cricket and played for a Sunday team. He also played for the London Fire Brigade and The National Fire Brigade Teams. My Dad could have taken up cricket professionally but as the eldest of 5 children he had to go out and earn a living at the age 14.

The Sunday cricket club were very sociable, and all the players’ wives, girlfriends and children went along every week. I attended cricket matches from the age of 3 weeks old and by the age of 15 I started scoring for the team. I learnt all the rules by going to night school in Hendon and took the exams.

I trained as a nurse at University College Hospital and at that time the junior student nurse always finished the 7-night stint on a Sunday morning. (The senior student nurse finished on a Thursday morning, thus getting the weekend off). As we only had 4 days off, I did not waste my Sundays sleeping, so I always went to cricket to score for the team.

I continued scoring at cricket matches the whole time I was in the army. I served at BMH Hanover from July 1981-July 1983 and whilst there went on tour with the AMS cricket team to BAOR (British Army of the Rhine).

I was posted to Hong Kong straight from Hanover in 1983. My Dad asked me to go to the library and look through the microfiche of the local paper, The South China Morning Post, to look for an article about him when he played for the Combined Services whilst doing his National Service. After many hours reading through the newspaper I found the article and sent it to him. He was delighted. Unfortunately, my Dad died age just 52, just 8 months after I returned home from Hong Kong.

Whilst serving at the QEMH Woolwich I was asked to go on a cricket tour to Barbados. I did not take much persuading. I went to Barbados 6 weeks after meeting my now husband, leaving him to go away for three weeks with 21 men. In Barbados I was not allowed to stay in the officers mess where all the players stayed as there were no bathroom facilities for females. I stayed with one of the Bajan cricket team.

I hired a mini moke and used it to get around Barbados.

Image by Paul C Leehttps://pixabay.com/

As a treat we were taken to where the West Indies play their international test matches -The Garfield Sobers cricket ground, which was amazing for us as we played at local cricket grounds where on occasions cows were grazing on the outfield. During cricket matches in the hot weather it is usual to have a drinks break of squash to rehydrate. However, in Barbados the drink brought out was rum and coke and as the coke is dearer than the locally produced rum it was more rum than coke. I am sure that gave the local teams an edge over us.

In 1989 I was posted to Bassingbourn Barracks as a WSLO where I stayed for 5 years. When I arrived, I took over from another QA who had not enjoyed the posting and was glad to leave. I can understand why, because she, and then me were the only female officer at Bassingbourn living in the officers mess. I was a Captain and many of the officers were subalterns whom I am sure were not keen to have to have a female officer who was more senior than themselves around. On arrival no one spoke to me I was completely ignored. Shortly after I arrived the CO's XI were playing the RSM's XI at cricket. I spoke to the CO and offered to score at the game. I always keep an immaculate score book in different coloured pens meaning each batsmen knew exactly which bowler he had scored his runs from. All the cricketers were amazed at my cricket bookkeeping skills; after that match I was suddenly one of the lads and treated no differently from any other officer.

I loved my time at Bassingbourn Barracks and I learnt a lot serving with the Army. I found out that during my time at Bassingbourn if you could talk about your love of cricket along with the men you must be ok.


Major (Retd) Patsy May (nee Cox)

The Pitfalls of the Napkin Ring by Penny Moody

As a very junior officer new to mess life I can remember those napkin pigeon holes in the dining room so well and they could be a minefield.

We each had our own napkin and silver ring, left in the pigeon hole. Having spied a napkin that appeared to have no owner but had a very slightly different ring you plunged in and thought no more about. Five minutes later the rightful owner of the napkin ring would appear and a mini WW2 could break out. The owner was usually, what seemed like a very crusty senior Captain, and what followed would be ‘how dare such a lowly being have the temerity to think they could use their napkin ring’ .

All minor stuff in the scheme of things but……... So often the junior soul (including me) in the situation had not been warned and as an observer you often could sit and watch the whole situation play out and wish you had intervened minutes earlier or someone had tipped you off.

Lt Col (Rtd) Penny Moody

1990: A Visit to Berlin as the Cold War Thaws by Jan Westbury

In the summer of 1990, a few months after the Berlin Wall came down, I travelled the 100 miles from the West German border town of Helmstedt, along what was called the ‘autobahn corridor’ through East Germany, into West Berlin and back.

The map below shows the remoteness of West Berlin from West Germany, located in the Soviet occupied East Germany. Two separate countries requiring travel documents to move between the two. However, most East Germans were not allowed to leave their country or travel between East and West Berlin.

Although symbolically the wall between East and West Berlin was down, many restrictions remained in place, particularly for serving personnel, until the unification of East and West Germany in October 1990 and the eventual withdrawal of all occupying troops by 1994.

As a serving officer in the British Army, to travel to and from West Berlin along the autobahn corridor, I required a special movement order from the Allied Forces (British, French & American) Checkpoint in Helmstedt and West Berlin respectively. 

Once you left West Germany or West Berlin and were in East Germany you had to present your movement order at the Russian Army Checkpoints both on entering and leaving East Germany. A most surreal situation, having to take my travel documents to the Russian posts to be approved and stamped. Although I was not in uniform, the Russian soldiers saluted me, and I had to return the salute each time before entering to get my document stamped and again on leaving. I tried to do my absolute best salute so as not to let the QARANC down. I do hope the Russians were impressed!

It was great to be in the British Military, as masses of civilian cars and lorries queued at the East German controlled border posts, whereas we had special military lanes that took us straight to the Russian controlled posts for checking. This usually ensured a quick getaway, provided your documents were correct. However, if any details were incorrect on the movement order, even a full stop missing, you could be refused access to the autobahn corridor or even worse, detained by the Russians for many hours. It was always an anxious time as your documents were scrutinised.  You were also warned not to get involved in discussions with the KGB officers who frequented these checkpoints.

It was an interesting trip to experience so many early changes just months after the wall began to be dismantled. It was reported the Russian soldiers were not being paid and we observed them surreptitiously selling their uniforms at the Soviet War Memorial in West Berlin. Hats were very popular.

Amazingly it was easy to walk alongside the wall, as much of it was still in place and there were no restrictions. Indeed, we wandered around over the top of what had been Hitler’s underground bunker, where he was considered to have committed suicide. 

Standing on top of what had been Hitler’s Bunker with the Reich Stag in the background, without the dome that has now been restored.

Nearby was 'the death strip', an area of land between East and West Berlin during the Cold War, where people died trying to escape from the East to the West. 

It was not long before the wasteland was replaced by flats and hotels.

There were large gaps in the wall and at that time you could just pick up a piece of the wall as a memento, although many stall holders around were making money selling the lumps of concrete. A huge section of the wall had been removed and in just a few months there were high rise buildings reportedly built by the Japanese in the Eastern part of the city. The old buildings in the East had not been renovated and many of them had bullet holes and damage dating back to the Second World War.

A once divided city was very quickly developing and thriving. It was a trip I would never forget.


Jan Westbury - Retired Nursing Officer QARANC and currently an active member of the Jurassic Coast Branch of the QARANC Association.