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

Onward Journey by Moreen Doyle

 

The year is 1967 and I have just completed my QARANC basic training at the Royal Pavilion, Aldershot. My group are from all corners of the UK and we gradually form into small supportive cells to support each other. Discipline, square bashing, inspection, diligence, respect for other ranks and officers and a modicum of fitness are the order of the day. I recall 'bulling' the shoes until they shone! Parades and 'square bashing’ as it was called, was interesting and challenging to some who could not differentiate right from left! Serious but raised many laughs also! There was a stable at the end of the drive which one of our group practically lived in; it was the nearest you could get to the perimeter. The excitement when we could actually leave the premises, weeks later, to go into town and to the first social function, was exhilarating!

Freedom!.

On leaving Aldershot my first placement at the Royal Herbert Hospital in Woolwich is on the male Orthopaedic Ward, running the gauntlet of the bored squaddies with fractured limbs ! A steep learning curve in more ways than one!. A funny moment was when a lad called me Marilyn

because of my surname, ( anyone less like Marilyn Monroe you couldn’t imagine)! A trip to the office where Sister tore me off a strip for telling them my first name, not true! The offender was also spoken to!! I thought harmless fun but not acceptable apparently! Apart from the obligatory sluice and cleaning of shiny bedpans this was my first introduction to a Stryker frame with halo and a female patient in a full body plaster, a Senior Officer no less. I remember my trepidation in trying to attend to her personal care. I’m sure she was none too impressed with such a junior!

Discipline was still strict at the Royal Herbert with curfew at 11pm and no male visitors to the female quarters, a large sign at the entrance confirming this!

My group are now waiting to hear where our next posting will be and I am thrilled to learn that it will be BMH Singapore. It is November and sadly, my immediate friends in the block will be going to Munster in Germany and I shall miss them; it is amazing how close we have all become in a short period of time, maybe cohesion in the face of adversity! I recall sing songs in the lounge of the nurses quarter, accompanied by guitar, eating apples & cheese, on the recommendation of an Irish colleague, with scrumptious cherries from the market, a real treat, while trying to keep the place tidy for Mrs Green, the housekeeper. Good times!

I found the journey to Singapore amazing never having flown before. We flew in a VC10 from Lyneham airport and were able to visit the cockpit where the pilots pointed out all the lights as we flew down the Italian coast. Next stop Teheran, in the middle of the night. We had to disembark while they refuelled and we were joined in the lounge by a group of Mongolian travellers resplendent in their huge fur coats and hats. It was extremely cold and we were relieved to be back in the aircraft.

Next stop the island of Gan in the Indian Ocean; to see this speck in the ocean it is impossible to believe than any plane can land there, particularly a huge VC10. The runway is actually the length of the island! Not for the faint hearted.

Onwards to Singapore where we land at Changi airport. As the doors are opened I feel the blast of hot air, as never before! Trundling bags across to a mini bus, I feel rather tired and bedraggled after the long flight. Travelling along, the first thing to notice is the unbelievable smell, compounded by the heat. Our driver, seeing our expressions says ’ no worries that is just the monsoon drains and the kampongs, you will get used to it!" How true and how quickly!

BMH hospital looks lovely; a pristine white building with a red roof and gardens in front. The paths around the buildings are lined with trees covered in blossom and a sweet scent permeates the air.

Three nurses homes are situated at the rear of the hospital and we are guided into Margaret

House at the end of the drive. We have individual rooms, sparse but comfortable and are introduced to the Amah, a local Chines lady who, with her daughters, will do the cleaning and laundry.

We were to be very grateful for her help and support during our time there and a few of us would be invited to dine with her at her home for Chinese New Year; a tiny flat in a multi-storey block. The food usually consisted of 12 courses and was amazingly good. She was a very special part of our stay, unobtrusive but always smiling and helpful and our uniforms were always pristine!

The following day we were introduced to the School of Nursing run by Colonel Treacy, a lovely lady who made us very welcome. We enjoyed the visit as it was the only place we felt cool at this time; however as we acclimatised we were to find that the School of Nursing was the one place where we felt cold, being air conditioned, at 70* and were allowed to wear cardigans over our light grey polyester cotton uniform! The average daily temperature was in the 90*s.  At all times we felt incredibly supported by all ranks and disciplines within the hospital, very much a family atmosphere. I look forward to continuing with further information about the hospital, particularly the diseases prevalent at the time.

About the Author

Moreen Doyle, nee Munro, spent 2 years in student training at BMH Singapore but left the service 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.