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.