Anyone who has ever been in the army knows that provided they are not actually on duty at the time, Wednesday afternoons usually mean one of two things – Sport or Mandatory Training or occasionally a mixture of both. I have specific memories of three Wednesday afternoons in Rinteln and I have decided to call them “Wacky Wednesdays” for reasons which will become clear.
So, on this particular Wednesday, we joined the team behind the hospital. As we were complete beginners, we were briefed on how to use the map and compass and instructed on what we had to do as we went round the course. We assured the tutor that we understood. I mean, how hard could it be running from A to B with a map, a compass and a whistle, looking for checkpoints? The orienteers were in pairs but instead of pairing Maggie and me up with an experienced orienteer each, we were sent off together. Big mistake!
It all started well enough and we found the first marker. However, after a while we realised that there didn’t seem to be anyone else around and we couldn’t find any more markers. It got to the stage where we weren’t even sure we had the map up the right way!! We were hopelessly lost and blowing the whistle didn’t help as there was no one around. So here we were newly arrived from the UK, lost in the german countryside, unable to speak a word of the language. We decided the only thing for it was to find a road and try to make our way back to Rinteln.
It took a while but eventually we heard the sound of traffic and found a road. We saw a village up ahead and as we walked towards the village we caught sight of the name of the village – “HOPE”! I kid you not – that was the actual name of the village. We then found a sign pointing to Rinteln and made our way back to the hospital on the safety of the pavement! Strange thing was that when we arrived back at the hospital, nobody seemed to have missed us! Perhaps orienteering wasn’t for us!
Mandatory Training - Do you remember being issued with your respirator at the QATC? I remember clearly being handed this box which contained this hideous heavy rubber mask with a filter at the side. We had to try it on to make sure it fitted and off we went with our essential piece of kit that may well save our lives in the event of an NBC (Nuclear/Biological/Chemical warfare) attack. Now, how many of you put it in a wardrobe and didn’t think about it again until you came across it when you were packing your bags for a new posting? I mean, it was not something you were likely to be wearing on a regular basis.
One Wednesday afternoon in 1976, we were given notice of mandatory NBC training. We were to report to the field at the back of the hospital in timed slots armed with our respirators. At the appointed time we arrived and we saw a building probably not much bigger than a very large double garage. We were given an NBC suit and reminded how to put our respirators on. Of course, the glass in our respirators steamed up and we were shown, not how to spray a nice anti mist spray on the inside of the glass, but how to spit onto the glass and give it a good rub! It was at this point that I wished I had brought my camera!
Initially we practiced in the open air taking our masks off and on until we were quite proficient. Then we were told that we would be going into the building to practice talking quickly without the mask and putting it back on at speed, eating at speed etc. All easy enough. Then we were told that we were going to do it all again but that a helpful sergeant was going to throw a CS gas canister into the building and we had to do it all again with the company of the gas!! We were instructed not to breathe in the gas or we would regret it and if we did, we should head for the door and get out as quickly as possible. Oh, and keep your eyes closed when you have your mask off! How are you supposed to find the door?
In came the canister but as we were still all masked up at this stage, no problem. The thing about being in a room filled with CS gas is that you can only control your own behaviour! I wasn’t too far from the door which I thought was a good position. The first exercise to remove our masks, recite our name, rank and serial number and get the mask back on again without breathing in the gas, went well. However, as more exercises went on, there I am doing well with my eyes tight shut when I am sent flying by someone who had breathed in the gas, kept her eyes shut and headed in the general direction of the door i.e. me! When you are hit by a flying missile in a room filled with CS gas, the only reaction is to open your eyes and get a lungful of gas!
Oh well. Just glad we didn’t have to experience an NBC attack for real.
When Sport and Mandatory Training Collide - It was a typical Wednesday afternoon with the usual sports in action but we had been informed that those not involved in sports and not on ward duty would be required to participate in mandatory Major Incident Training. We were allocated our roles and informed that we should expect an influx of “casualties” (soldiers from the nearest army base in appropriate make up). As a third year student nurse, I was part of the group tasked with assessing and prioritising the “casualties”. I don’t think we called it Triage in those days!
Now, Rinteln didn’t have a formal emergency unit as such so all the ”casualties” were left in the front hall which was not a large area. As we were working through assessing the “casualties” who incidentally were using a lot of dramatic licence, in through the door comes another casualty in full rugby gear. He was holding his left arm which was in a very peculiar position. He looked in pain but was very controlled unlike those lying on the floor. After a few seconds, I recognised him as one of our doctors who was genuinely injured and not one of our actors.
I mistakenly thought we would be able to get him straight through for treatment but no, it was Major Incident Training and the Officer in Charge felt he had to be prioritised along with all the other “casualties”. I felt so sorry for him but he sat there quietly and he eventually went to theatre that evening to have his shoulder put back in.
Just goes to show that as far as mandatory training goes, it doesn’t matter who you are! Rank certainly had no priviliges that day!
Eileen Nolan
CMH - Sept 74 - Sept 75
BMH Rinteln Sept 75 - Feb 77
Royal Herbert Feb 77 - June 77
QEMH June 77 - July 78
