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

 

Rhinos, Tigers and Unexpected Encounters - by Wendy H. Jones

 

You're probably wondering what tigers and rhinos have to do with the QARANC? Quite a lot as it happens - in this tale anyway. I was very fortunate to be posted to Hong Kong whilst in the Corps and I was even more fortunate to spend a couple of weeks in Nepal. This involved the obligatory jungle trip to see if I could score a tiger sighting. The first day, we went in a jeep. No tiger. The second day, we went on an elephant. No tiger sighting. The elephant riding  was rather fabulous though. The third day we did it differently, which led to an adventure like I'd never had before and, trust me, I never want again. Here it is in story format. Names have been changed to protect the innocent but everything else is true. 

“Great day for a tiger hunt,” said Danny.

I had to agree with this. Not the hunt part of course. “Don’t be so dramatic. We’re only going to take photo’s of them.” In the jungle. On Foot. Best not to think too hard about that.

Buttery yellow sun shone from a cerulean sky as we crossed a wide, yet quiet, river in a canoe. Reaching the opposite bank we swapped the sunlight for the dark canopy of the jungle. “Do you think this was such a good idea, Danny? I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“Don’t be such a woose.” So I followed the Sherpa, each step measured and quiet. I didn’t want to disturb the natives. I didn’t even want to think about the natives or what they could do to us. The natives being the wild animals who called the jungle home. The Sherpa’s voice stopped us. “Complete silence. Stay behind tree. Mating Rhinos.” There were indeed a couple of rhinos ahead, oblivious to the audience to their enthusiastic, amorous adventures.

“If notice you are going up tree.” That was reassuring. I mentally assessed my tree climbing skills.

“I know we’re in the jungle Danny, but it seems to be getting darker.”

Danny, a farmer in real life, said, “There’s a storm brewing. Look at those trees.”

Said Trees, still just a moment before, were now bending in prayer to the storm God. As the heavy tropical rain started the guide said “Hurricane. Out of jungle” and he was off like a startled gazelle, leaving us all behind.

Thoughts of tigers and Rhinos trying to find safety from the trees propelled my feet. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.” We ran as the storm chased us.

“The guide’s taken the blasted canoe.” I was frantic as I looked at the river in front of us, now a raging torrent. “We can’t get across that.”

“We have to. It’s that or wild animals.”

I said a quick prayer, and launched my 5’ frame into the water.

“Keep hold of me. We’ll make it together.” I was grateful for Danny’s 5’ 10 of solid muscle. Somehow we struggled through the water to reach the bank on the other side. I collapsed, oblivious to the rain battering me from every direction.

Danny pulled me up. “We can’t stop. We’ve got to get back to camp.”

“I can’t do it Danny.”

“Yes you can. There’s a dry hut waiting.”

Somehow I managed to put one foot in front of the other. How I still don’t know. However, the dangers weren’t over. We still had to navigate a small wood. The wind uprooted trees, which toppled either side of us, as fear gave wings to our feet. If this was a BFT I'd be finished before I started. 

That mud hut, when I saw it, held more comfort than any five star hotel. I was rather glad, on this particular occasion, I didn’t come face to face with that tiger. 

I write this to show that nursing in the Army was so much more than bedpans, exercises and operational tours. It was fun, it was exciting and most of all it was completely unexpected. It was a grand life indeed

I'm curious, what has been the most exciting thing that has happened unexpectedly in your life. 

As a postscript, you may be wondering if I am the only person writing for this blog. Absolutely not. There will be a wide range of posts and views, I'm just standing in this week and normal service will be resumed next week. 

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.