The Sash of Merit 1989 - by Jan Westbury

Officer training at the Queen Alexandra's Training Centre, Aldershot 1989.  

I really enjoyed the eight week training programme, I think because of the variety every day from drill, PT, military classes and so much more. Spending all that time on ironing, bulling shoes and starching veils was a great discipline and I loved being smart.  My biggest problem was dealing with my curly whirly hair, with wisps always escaping and I became determined not to be caught out again.  One of the girls had a great way of stretching her head during inspections so her hair was off the collar.

The girls I joined with were such fun and the social side was great, we seemed to have a party every week.  It is sad all these years later to only be in touch with one of them. We should have a reunion.

As a mature entrant I had to keep up with the younger ones, so the effort to not be last on runs made me push hard to be at the front, with first place occasionally.  I loved the challenges. I didn't need to be the best, but I was motivated to do well.

At the end I was awarded with the Sash of Merit. It was a shock, but of course I felt very proud.  The picture below was taken for the local newspaper. 

There were a couple of disappointments, in that we could not have our last parade with our families in attendance outside. It absolutely poured with rain and we had to march into the gym. That was a challenge trying to keep in step.  The other disappointment was that my parents were in the Caribbean on holiday, so missed the whole event.  My closest friends were to attend, but they were stuck in Cheltenham, snowed in.   However, it meant I could circulate with everyone else and still enjoyed the special lunch.

Happy days.

Remembering the Grey PT Knickers - 1980s by Jan Westbury

I remember being issued with my PT kit at the QATC that included large grey knickers to wear with our PT skirts. 

It took me back to my school days and as you can see in the photograph below made us act like silly schoolgirls again.  At least they were comfortable.

The local Regiment always invited the new officers in training to their mess and we were pre-warned of what to expect.  They certainly loved to party and play games, but lots of fun.  I certainly decided to leave at a respectable time, although a colleague stayed and had to jump on a milk float to hitch a ride back to the QATC.  Of course she still turned out immaculately for parade.  What I remember the most were the largest pair of grey knickers behind the bar.  Where on earth did they come from and who wore them?  Were they for real?  Does anyone know?

Of course this was the 20th century and considered amusing. In the 21st century we would have probably all left 'not amused' or indeed just wouldn't happen now.

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

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

A FRILLY CAP, A DUSTBIN LID AND MUD, GLORIOUS MUD!! By Eileen Nolan

Anyone who has waited for their exams results to drop on the mat will recognise the mixed emotions of excited anticipation and dread! It was the same for us waiting for our SRN results at the QEMH in 1977 except that we had to wait for the post room to open.

We had been told by our tutor that our results would arrive on this specific Saturday and she gave us our orders on how to proceed when we got our results. A “Pass” meant that we had contact the tutor who would be in her office to hear the news then go straight to the Stores where we would be issued with our frilly caps and red belt. The following day, we were to proceed to the QATC in Aldershot where Staff Nurse Block would begin early on Monday morning.

A “Fail” meant that we had to contact the tutor who would advise us on submitting a resit application.

The problem was that no contingency had been made for the Royal Mail and the possibility that someone may not get their results!!!! Yes, that was me! The poor soldier in the post room looked high and low, checked every pigeon hole and even checked the bottom of the sack but alas, no envelope for me. What to do now that I couldn’t follow orders? Of course, I contacted the tutor who told me in no uncertain terms that it must have been my fault and that I couldn’t have addressed my envelope correctly! Really?

I was then instructed to pack for Aldershot but wait until Monday morning and if I passed, I had to get myself to the QATC as quickly as possible. There would be no time to collect a frilly cap or red belt. I did pass and I managed to get there in time for the afternoon session. Of course, I had to have a meeting with the tutor there who again gave me a right telling off for being late for Staff Nurse Block and of course it must have been my fault. I think my name was mud but it wasn’t the last mud I would see that week!

The week went well and we had been told we would get our badge on Friday. We were so excited as we had been looking forward to getting our “dustbin lid”, the cherished 2” gunmetal grey badge proudly inscribed with “Army Trained Nurse”. However, when we were given our badges, we looked at them in dismay. What were these little blue badges and where were our dustbin lids? We were told that they were no longer being issued and these little blue badges were the new SRN Army Medical Services School of Nursing Badge. We left the QATC feeling very deflated.

On the way back to Woolwich I realised that I was on night duty the following night and I did not have a frilly cap or red belt. Whilst I could have got them on the Saturday morning, the frilly cap needed to be soaked in starch and dried overnight in time for me to spray starch it within an inch of its life if it were to stand tall the following night. Fortunately, my room mate wasn’t due at work until Monday so she let me have one of hers and I repaid her when I got mine.

On Saturday, I spent ages starching this cap and getting the frills to stand up nicely. I then had a rest in the afternoon ready for night duty. Although not a great quality photograph, you can see how proud I was ready for my first shift as a Staff Nurse. But pride comes before a fall…….

While we had been in Aldershot, the weather in Woolwich had been wet and windy but, on the Saturday, it was good, if a little breezy. At that time, we were still living in the accommodation on Academy Road which meant that to get to the QEMH, we had to cross Woolwich Common.

I realised as I was walking across that it was a bit wet underfoot but there was a well worn path which I followed. Then disaster struck. An almighty gust of wind took my gorgeous frilly cap and promptly dumped it in a muddy puddle!

I think I was in shock as I stared at it for a moment and then had to make a decision. Do I run back to the accommodation in the hope that someone can lend me a frilly cap? If I did that, I would be late on duty (and a QA is never late) and that would inconvenience the staff I would be taking over from. Or, do I carry on and risk being charged with being improperly dressed? So, I rescued my now very muddy cap and carried on.

I was working on Ward 1 so didn’t have far to go once I had got past the reception desk. To my sheer relief, the nurse I was taking over from was a Staff Nurse and not a Sister and when she saw how upset I was she gave me her frilly cap for the night and I returned it in the morning so all was well.

Going back to the dustbin lid, the following week my room mate came in from work and I noticed she had one. Apparently, she had chatted up the Stores Sergeant and he had found one for her. She swore blind that she asked him to try to find one for me as well but he could only find one.

Whilst I was thrilled for her, I never did get my dustbin lid but despite the wording on the little blue badge, I am still proud to call myself an “Army Trained Nurse”.

PACKAGE SAFELY DELIVERED By Eileen Nolan

 

It was Belfast in the Spring of 1974. The “Troubles” had been raging for almost five years and had just claimed its 1000th victim. Bombs and bullets were part of everyday life. Paramilitaries were ever present with their intimidation and threats to their local population. The British Army were very obvious on the streets with their role to protect the people of Northern Ireland. 

On a dull Saturday afternoon, a 17 year old girl was walking home from the town centre. She had to walk that afternoon as all the buses into East Belfast had been taken off the roads as there was rumoured to be “trouble” in the Short Strand area and buses were a great target for those wishing to cause trouble. The problem for the 17 year old that day was that the only way home on foot was via the Short Strand area. 

Approaching Short Strand all seemed quiet then the shooting started! The recessed doorway of a locked shop provided the refuge needed until the shooting stopped and she could safely make her way home. 

I was that 17 year old and that was the day I decided to join the British Army!

Now, you may think that joining the British Army is quite straight forward – go into an Army Careers Office, get the information you need and submit an application form. But when you know that the Careers Office has closed due to the threat to both those manning such an office and to those walking into one, your options are limited.

The careers office at school didn’t have any information and I certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone other than my family why I wanted the information! So, off I went to the phone box at the end of the road and found the number for Palace Barracks in Holywood. The person I spoke to was enormously helpful. I had already told my parents that I wanted to do nursing when I left school so I asked about nursing in the Army. I was then sent all the information I needed about the QA’s.

After sending back the application form, there began what can only be described as something out of a spy novel! You see, the British Army was there to protect the local population and for someone to be seen to go into a Military establishment could put both that person and their family at great risk.

So, when I was invited for interview and a medical at Palace Barracks, I was given clear instructions on how to proceed…..on a specific day at a specific time, I had to make my way to the main railway station in the centre of Belfast. I had to go to the newspaper kiosk and buy a copy of the Belfast Telegraph and then stand a little way to the left of the kiosk. I was informed that I would be approached by a man in civilian clothes also carrying a Belfast Telegraph. Remember, I am 17 years old yet I didn’t think this was strange at all!!!!

I was only waiting about a minute when I was approached and was asked if I was the right person. Of course, the soldier couldn’t show me his ID as we were in the middle of a very public place but off I went with him! He took me to an unmarked car waiting outside with another man in it and thankfully, once I was in the car, they both showed me their Army ID.

Following my interview and medical, I was then driven in the same unmarked car past my own home and into the centre of Belfast again. I was then dropped off at the side of a road and had to make my way home again.

All information that was sent to me from Palace Barracks was in a plain envelope with no indication of where it came from. All this to protect me and my family but it didn’t stop there.

On August 9th 1974 when I had collected my “Queen’s Shilling”, I was taken to the overnight ferry to Liverpool. On arrival in Liverpool, I had to check into the Guard House for them to check I had arrived safely. I had been given detailed written instructions on how to get to Aldershot including train times etc.

On arrival at Waterloo, I had to phone the QATC to confirm which train I would be on and was told that my transport would be waiting for me on arrival at Aldershot. I was very impressed.

However, on arrival, there was no sign of my transport and I remember standing there with £2.50 in my pocket wondering how much it would cost for a taxi to the QATC as I had no idea where it was!

I needn’t have worried as only five minutes later, my transport arrived and I was delivered safely to the QATC. So began my QA adventure…….!

Eileen Nolan

Aug 74 - Sept 74 QATC
Sept 74 - Sept 75 Cambridge Military Hospital
Sept 75 - Feb 77 BMH Rinteln
Feb 77  - July 77 Royal Herbert Military Hospital, Woolwich
July 77 - Aug 78 QEMH, Woolwich

Murder Mystery at the QATC - Guest Dinner Night. By Jan Westbury

Well, what a dinner night on Saturday 28th November 2020!

Forty-three of us gathered for yet another virtual QARANC Association Jurassic Branch gathering during this Covid 19 pandemic. Here we are, all in lockdown, but it was not going to deter us from having some fun, even if we cannot meet after all these months of restrictions. Merrill Bate drives our weekly programme and tasked with coming up with creative ideas the Branch decided on a regimental style Zoom dinner with a twist. Wondering if this could be a strange affair, all sitting in front of each other just eating and all trying to talk, we needed to do something. Cue our renowned author Wendy H. Jones who wrote a murder mystery just for us, based on dining at the Queen Alexandra’s Training Centre, which most of us had attended in the ‘old days'.

                Wendy H Jones

Pat McKay and Marjorie Bandy preparing for the night.

The Jurassic Branch, being ambitious, invited our QARANC Association Chair, Col John Quinn and our Colonel Commandants; Col Carol Kefford and Col Kevin Davies with their respective guests. We were amazed they accepted and then panicked as it could have been a big damp squib. Would the IT work?

By the way, selfies are old hat now – screen shot pictures are all the rage in 2020.

The night kicked off with pre-dinner drinks and our Chair, Marjorie Bandy, welcomed everyone before an introduction to the night by Wendy and our usual fundraiser, a raffle held by our treasurer Dot Ritchie. Following the format and etiquette of a regimental dinner our secretary, Pat McKay, rang the dinner bell – when SUDDENLY, Brig Dame SG, looking like Cruella de Vil, was murdered! In came the local constabulary, Detective Inspector Karen Melling and Detective Sergeant Vivien Maiden, and it was time for the first course and more drinks.

And so, after Grace by Col The Very Reverent Terrence Fitzgibbon, the mystery unfolds. As the revelations continue it is apparent the QA’s serving and retired have been up to no good. The local constabulary could not solve the murder, so Chief Constable Wendy H Jones from the Scottish police had to be called in to reveal that Lt Col Merrill Bate was the murderer. This was a shock to us all, as Merrill was always seen as an upstanding QARANC officer with the highest integrity. Just goes to show!

The Murderer…….

Dame Sally was not all sweetness and light and it did not take us long before we moved on with the loyal toasts and speeches by the real Col John Quinn and Marjorie Bandy.

Well, it worked. It was a fun night, and everyone had made an effort to dress up and set the table mess dining style, but of course with a pc, keyboard and mouse on the table to be able to join in the virtual event.

Sadly, we had to cook our own food:

Pate with melba toast
Chicken/vegetarian casserole with vegetables
Lemon tart
Cheese and biscuits
Coffee and mince pies

Yes we had all cooked the same menu!

Of course no waiting staff, no mess sergeant to take control of the dinner; but Pat McKay did an amazing job of keeping us to the planned timings. No band either, but we did manage CD music at the right time: The Roast Beef of Old England at the call to dinner; the National Anthem for the loyal toasts to our Queen and our Colonel in Chief; finally the Corps March, Grey and Scarlett, over coffee and mince pies.

Well just like a mess dinner, after coffee everyone relaxed and the fun began. Although I can never remember everyone’s dogs suddenly joining us at the table in the mess! It was then most revealing to find that many of the guests had dressed in the zoom tradition, perfect from the waist up and rather relaxed from the waist down.

Yes slippers at dinner!

Who would have thought that three senior officers between them were wearing shorts and jeans, with two of them dressed in mess kit from the waist up. Still, no names here because as with all post mess dinners it was time to let our hair down. So, after an hour of reminiscing, time to leave Zoom and let our Zoom host, Kay Foster, go to bed. Phew, she did not have too many IT glitches.

List of Actors and Ranks for the Night (with a few promotions and demotions):
SG                                   Brig Dame SG
Wendy H Jones               Chief Constable Wendy H Jones
Terry Scriven                  Col The Very Reverent Terrence Fitzgibbon
Jan Westbury                  Lt Col Jan Westbury
Merrill Bate                    Lt Col Merrill Bate
Len Bate                        Wing Commander
Mike Kefford                  Brig Mike Kefford
Carol Kefford                 Col Carol Kefford
Domini Barrett              Major Domini Barrett
David Barrett                 Brig David Barrett
Vivien Maiden               Detective Sergeant Vivien Maiden
Karen Melling               Detective Inspector Karen Melling
Sue Shrimpton               Major Sue Shrimpton
Richard Shrimpton        Major Richard Shrimpton
Moira Dixon                  Major Moira Dixon
Judy Evans                    Col Judy Evans

Screen shot below of some of the actors and guests, many looking like they could have been the murderer!

At least with selfies one has the opportunity to smile.

On a personal note I would like to say that although our social lives have been severely restricted during this pandemic, Covid 19 has brought us closer together. Col John spoke about volunteering and how we are all volunteers and indeed as usual we were fundraising with our raffle. I felt as though I had a really good night out. Thank you to the Jurassic Branch and our guests.

Capt (Rtd) Jan Westbury on behalf of the QARANC Association Jurassic Coast Branch, known locally as The Dynamic Dinosaurs.