Happy April Fool’s Day - You’re Now a QA! By Chris Buswell

I began my time in the QAs with a sense of disbelief and wryness. I was in Belize and the CO had told us we three male nurses were to transfer to the QARANC. Up to then I’d been happy in the RAMC for five years, first as a Combat Medical Technician, then starting RGN training (one of my tutors was Wendy who helps run this blog) and then working on a variety of wards and departments post registration. The date of transfer in 1992 was on the 1st of April and a sense that this was an April Fool’s prank was heightened when we received a photocopy of the QARANC cap badge during a parade. I continued my posting, marvelling at the beauty of the country and wildlife. I was awed in their caves at the spectacle of roosting bats and in Airport Camp I enjoyed seeing the iguanas that lounged around the hospital grass. The first sight of a vulture eating a carcass on a roadside during a return from working in the Field Surgical Team was spectacular, its wingspan seemed huge. During my gawping, the anaesthetist tied my boots to the back of the Land Rover. After that I didn’t take them off during the hour drive back to camp

Upon my return to the Cambridge Military Hospital in Aldershot I was soon to discover from my wife, also a QA, that indeed I was now in the sisterhood of the Grey Mafia! I slunk to the Quartermaster and handed in my black beret for a grey one, with a shiny Cross with an A in the centre. So began a continuing interest in the history of the Corps and military hospitals. I worked in ITU, Paediatrics and the medical wards where I learnt about a certain Grey Lady, usually on night shift, when tales were spun and attempts to spook each other were performed. The day shifts ward sister’s cape and tippet placed on a drip stand and pulled along by string to the adjoining ward is legendary. I shall not reveal who did this in case Matron is reading! Little did I know that two decades later I would write a novel about this ghost and run the @QARANCHistory social media pages and the QARANC.co.uk website.

My student nurse training was at the Queen Elizabeth Military Hospital, with stints at the CMH for midwifery and paediatric training.

I loved the camaraderie at both hospitals and met my wife, Karla (nee Partridge) at the QEMH. We later had a great three years at the Tri-Service The Princess Mary’s Hospital at Akrotiri in Cyprus. A highlight was a bed-push race in the airbase pushing a Thunderbird themed bed (we lost!). Our married quarter had a large garden where I kept an aviary filled with budgies. I swapped the resultant babies at a nearby pet shop in Limassol for an aquarium and soon the Children’s ward was filled with fish and enough food to last years.

In the army base at nearby Episkopi there was a British Army Rehoming Centre, and we adopted a handsome pointer dog called Bouncer from BARC. We all explored the gorgeous coastline in the base and around this stunning island and enjoyed swimming in the clear blue sea.

Both our children were born at the TPMH, delivered by QA midwives. Their care was first-rate - I never felt a thing!

My last year was served at the Navy hospital in Haslar, in a medical ward, which was hard, but, like all my service, immensely satisfying work.

I now live in a small fishing village in Scotland with my wife, where I write novels. I keep white doves now and have a Bravehound PTSD dog Lynne. An incident in Cyprus gives me recurring nightmares and she wakes me up by washing my face or poking her tongue in my mouth! We then have a cosy cuddle whilst Karla rolls her eyes, sighs, and goes back to sleep.

Sadly, I don’t have any photos of my time in the QAs as this was in era when there were no digital cameras nor mobile phones. I’ve plenty off-duty though and I enjoy looking at them and reminiscing. If anyone remembers me and has any, I’d love to see them. You can find me @CGBUSWELL on social media.

Chris Buswell - L/Cpl served from 1987 to 1997

A Posting to the Caribbean - Belize by Marjorie Bandy

In 1981 I became aware of an additional posting for QA’s. I fancy a tour in the Caribbean thought as I sat at my desk in Catterick on a wet and windy winter morning. I mentioned it in passing to Col Braisby during a telephone call. “Ask me in writing,” was the reply; success. By April of that year I found myself at Brize Norton for the Monday flight to Belize. I was only the second QA to go there and at the time it was a 'sensitive' posting which had required me to go to HQUKLF for an interview with Colonel Liddington. I was given the brief and instructions that I was required to send her a monthly report – but sent as a personal letter on a “bluey!!” I could explain but I would then have to shoot you.

For those of you who have never been to Belize it is in the Caribbean very close to Mexico and Guatemala and Airport Camp is built on a mosquito swamp. For most of my tour, I was the only female, on occasions being joined by a female dentist. It sounds marvellous the only female in a camp of 2000 men, not so, it can be very lonely, and very much like living in a glass box where you are always on show. Absolutely everyone knew who I was ie Matron, which meant that even going into the NAAFI it was far from unusual to be stopped for a medical consultation with one of said 2000 male personnel.

The Officers Mess were on the whole good fun and I was included in trips into Belize City if there was something different going on. One Saturday night we had been informed that there was going to be a good disco in one of the downtown hotels. Dancing shoes on I joined with some of the other mess members and headed into town. The rumour was right, and we were having a great evening and it was good to use the dancing shoes. One thing in Belize is that sadly employment opportunities for women were not easy and far too many belonged to the “oldest profession.” As I was practicing my Olivia Newton John moves on the dance floor I felt a tap on the shoulder and a voice said,  “How much do you charge?” I turned round to see what could only have been a member of HM Forces. As I have already said absolutely everyone knew who Matron was and the poor young man’s face dropped. My reply? “Go away young man you can’t afford me.” The poor chap must have spent the rest of his tour praying that he never took sick. The rest of the guys couldn’t wait to get back to camp to make sure that everyone knew that I had been mistaken for a Lady of the Night.

It was in other ways a posting of different experiences; Belize gained its independence during that year. As Guatemala and Belize didn’t enjoy a friendly relationship at the time, I had an additional supply of morphine flown out on the same flight as Prince and Princess Michael of Kent. Luckily although the resident battalion moved to their “battle stations” all was quiet on the Western Front.

At that time Belize was not a popular holiday destination and apart from the three military flights a month there were no direct flights from UK. I was able to get away for some weekends and fell in love with New Orleans, a place I headed for whenever I needed my hair cutting. Honduras and Costa Rica were also on my visiting list. All great opportunities so what was the point of saving money and only getting as far as the camp swimming pool or the Sunday Mess BBQ on one of the small islands known as Cayes. Although I enjoy swimming only my snorkelling improved, and I really didn’t fancy diving. I did make use of the mess ski boat, but water skis will never replace my snow skis.

There are lots of stories about Belize but this is only a blog and not a book. I will save the story of almost getting shot by the SAS – purely through my own stupidity - for a later date.



Marjorie Bandy

Chairman Jurassic Coast Branch