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

BANGLADESH - A REFLECTION by Marjorie Bandy

I first went to Bangladesh by default. Our TA unit had been asked by the Bangladesh Armed Forces Medical Services [AFMS] to provide a team of nursing officers to teach and improve standards within areas of high dependency care for the Military. At that time our unit was commanded by a consultant anaesthetist of some renown, who spent a fair proportion of his time lecturing world-wide. He considered that based on his own experiences in the third world it would be necessary for the team to take with them an administrator to ensure that the team could spend its limited time in the country actually teaching.

It was decided that the unit admin officer should take up this task. Unfortunately, the planned time frame for this exciting venture had to be changed and the admin officer was then not available. Based on my previous experience I was asked to take his place. So it was that I became “the fat controller!” The first team deployed to Bangladesh in 1993 to work in a very administratively efficient AFMS and my skills as a nurse together were far more necessary than my skills as an administrator. To be fair it subsequently proved our CO right that it was essential that a fairly senior officer was needed to head the team to ensure the programme running “nearly” to plan, but able to manage unexpected and sometimes unusual changes.

To be able to appreciate the difficulties of working in Bangladesh at that time it is necessary to have some understanding of the country’s history. Bangladesh was originally part of the Bengal area of India but unlike much of the Indian continent the predominant religion was Muslim. Following independence for India there was conflict between Muslim and Hindu areas resulting in 1947 with an independent Muslim Pakistan of which Bangladesh was part. This was not a happy marriage and following a very bloody war and the loss of 3 million soldiers and civilians, Bangladesh became an independent country in 1973. The country is overpopulated and very poor, despite 3 rice crops a year unable to feed itself without importing food. The discovery of natural gas in the Bay of Bengal has helped to reduce poverty to some extent.

Each year the team was asked to provide a programme to teach three groups of 10 nursing officers,  ICU technicians and medical assistants. The first year was the most traumatic as the team had no idea what to expect. The culture shock and different way of working were much more difficult that we had imagined despite having done our best to be prepared. Added to this many of the hospital staff were not enthusiastic at our arrival, perhaps thinking that we would attempt to change things completely with no account being taken for their customs, culture and religion.

Within their system staff only look after patients of the same sex and indeed female patients and children are treated in a separate building with the exception of theatres, ICU and CCU. Medical officers who had an opportunity to undergo higher professional training in a western hospital were anxious to improve standards and to introduce a more hands-on care approach for nurses. Picture the scene where wards of 50+ beds had only one trained nurse on duty 0800 – 1400 six days a week and then on call for the rest of the time because there is no trained nurse relief. The task of trying to promote change without causing offence was initially daunting.

On the first visit little was available in the way of visual training aids. The maxim being if you need it take it with you. All of this does not take into account the enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge of our students. On the first visit, aids such as Resus Annie were so old they were almost unusable, as was the overhead projector. On future visits equipment was gradually replaced and upgraded.

The initial plan was to run courses for the full duration of the visit, running separate and joint lectures. Lectures had to take into account the necessity for translation and explanation as we were teaching a group who overall, only spoke Bangladeshi. Once we arrived in theatre, we discovered that the students would be expected to sit a final examination in English. This meant some re-arrangement of our initial programme, that continued on for all successive visits, sometimes because of requests of change by our hosts or illness in a member of the team.

One of the most difficult areas was always practical teaching and hands-on practise by the students. Traditionally nursing officers led the wards in a mostly managerial capacity with nursing aids and relatives carrying out basic nursing care. We soon realised the nurses had little strength for such things as lifting. In addition, the Muslim culture doesn’t allow for physical contact with male patients or indeed work as a pair with a male colleague. Once these boundaries had been realised and our teaching plans adjusted it became easier to plan and implement teaching programmes.

Over a period of time changes and improvements took place. This was noticeable in ICU where patients were provided with nursing care such as washing and passive physio for the unconscious patient. Humidifiers were no longer being left with the same water in between patients, increased response times to dealing with emergencies achieved and protocols gradually being written and implemented are examples of improvements. All of this might seem very little for the cost of sending 6 people annually to Bangladesh, but when one considers the cost of extra days spent in hospital because of pressure sores and the lack of infection control measures, it is a cost saving expense. With the numbers passing through the one military hospital in Dakar alone the potential saving is enormous. 

For me personally the greatest satisfaction came in 1997 when I was given a copy of the Defence Advisor’s report to the Foreign Secretary which suggested that our team was one of the most cost -effective sent to aid this Commonwealth Country [military] during that year.

For everyone who took part in this venture it was a challenge and educationally stimulating, requiring a great deal of preparation to ensure the highest standards of teaching despite the limitations. Everyone learnt to be adaptable to meet with the unexpected. Without doubt everyone who took part gained from experiencing the difficulties of the Third world and to appreciate our NHS. Lastly it would not have been such a success without the work and enthusiasm of all the people who accompanied me.



Marjorie Bandy

Chair Jurassic Coast Branch

REFLECTIONS OF A RETIRED QARANC REGIMENTAL SECRETARY By Judy Evans

When I retired from the QAs in 1996 after a twenty-year career, which had been cut short by the changes in the structure of the armed forces, I never in my wildest dream thought that I’d return in a very different role, albeit as a civilian.

I had kept abreast of the Corps as a trustee of the QA Association, in the days when you put your name forward and were voted in by members after an election. Diana Wilson was the General Secretary at the time but indicated that she intended retiring in 2003 after seven years in post. I decided that I would like to apply to take over from her and after thinking I knew what the appointment entailed, I applied, was interviewed and was successful.  My title would be Regimental Secretary QARANC and General Secretary of the QARANC Association.

The four Regimental Headquarters of the AMS were being reorganised and although they remained sovereign, shared support staff, but I was unable to comprehend how diverse my role would be including General Secretary of the Association, Secretary of the Headquarter Officers’ Mess, Secretary of the Dress Committee and ‘Lady-in-Waiting’ to the Colonel Commandant.

When I came into post the Corps was about to change its ward uniform from the traditional dresses and white cap for women to tunic and trousers for both men and women. There was a lot to do to ensure we were on target to change on the date decided.

As Secretary of the Headquarter Officers’ Mess, I had to organise Regimental Dinners and the annual Corps Cocktail Party which was held at the Royal Hospital Chelsea. Luckily one of the Regimental Headquarters’ administrative assistants did a lot in coordinating the guest lists and sending out invitations but it needed close attention to detail.

The role of the Colonel Commandant is to support the Director Army Nursing Services and has a responsibility for the esprit de corps of the QARANC and the morale of its Officers and Servicemen and women. Colonel Iona Leith-Macgregor had been in post for a while and was enthusiastic, enjoying meeting members of the Corps on her official visits. I had to ensure her programme was what she wanted, book all her tickets and, on occasions, accompany her which was a chance for me to see what was going on.

In 2002 HRH The Princess Margaret, our Colonel-in-Chief passed away and the Corps had been advised, by Buckingham Palace, that it was unlikely that another would be appointed in the short term. However, in July 2003, we received notice that HRH The Countess of Wessex would become our new Colonel-in-Chief. A telephone call from her Private Secretary, a retired brigadier, made it clear that my office would be responsible for coordinating our relationship with her staff who included an assistant Private Secretary and administrative assistants. The Colonel Commandant, DANS and I visited, and we discussed how her role could develop and we established an excellent working relationship, and she gave a generous amount of time getting to know us.

Early in 2003, many QAs were deployed to Iraq and although I was not directly involved, as time went on it became clear that Regimental Headquarters would be involved with supporting them. Fortunately, I did not have to organise the repatriation of any casualties as the RAMC Regimental Secretary sadly did. Not long afterwards, we entered Afghanistan.

I saw my major role as being General Secretary of the QA Association. It was a joy getting to know our veterans, chatting to them on the phone or visiting branches. Letters of thanks for gifts which they had been sent for their birthdays or Christmas were wonderful to receive. I realised that the senior officers who had scared me when I was a junior officer had become quite approachable! Sadly, one of my roles was to send flowers on behalf of the Association to funerals – always red flowers and grey foliage such as eucalyptus.

We began to support serving personnel more, contributing to adventure training and sports equipment, thus making the Association more relevant to them.

The Gazette which is published twice a year is an important part of the Association and fortunately I had two excellent editors in Alison Spires and later Dee McElligott.

For all Associations in the Army, benevolence and the support of its retired members is a prime function. Working with SSAFA, the Royal British Legion and other service charities, we are able to make grants to those who have fallen on hard times or who needed some help for children. Small grants can make all the difference although sometimes larger or regular sums are required which the trustees discuss and agree or otherwise. Sometimes more information is required which SSAFA or the Royal British Legion might provide.

I could go on. There were other jobs to do such as maintaining our corps history, liaising with the Director of the Museum of Military Medicine, as it’s now called. The march past of veterans at the Cenotaph on Remembrance Sunday was one highlight of the year but there were many highlights in my seven years. 2007 saw the 60th anniversary of the Association which we celebrated with a garden party in the grounds of the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst in the presence of the Colonel-in-Chief. We also organised visits to South Africa and Singapore and Malaysia, where several retired QAs could revisit old haunts.

Visit to South Africa

Without doubt I look back at my appointment with great pride. It was a pleasure working with all the DANS and Colonels Commandant who were in post at the same time as I was. Sadly, the administrative support in the reorganised AMS Regimental Headquarters had been gradually eroded and I felt I’d become a one-man band. It was time to retire but what an appointment – perhaps the best in the Corps!

Judy Evans

I served in the QARANC from 1976-96, first as a Midwife, then a Theatre Sister. I also had postings as Instructor for the Student Officer Basic Course at the QATC from 1984-6, Theatre Sister and Matron in the Falkland Islands

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

Travelling on the Main Supply Route Op Granby (The First Gulf War 1990). By Penny Moody

I had not long been posted to BMH Hannover when our daily routine was totally changed by the news that a large percentage of the hospital staff were to be deployed in our operation role as 32 Field Hospital, part of Op Granby. We were lucky enough to have Christmas at home and returned to depart to Saudi Arabia early January 1990.

We flew via Cyprus and on landing in Saudi travelled to Al Jubail to initially stay with 33 Field Hospital and were accommodated in large warehouses, in what had been a tyre factory. It was at this point that we realised that nearly everyone we had ever know during our service was in Saudi which was very reassuring and made us feel quite at home. 

After a couple of days a 32 Field Hospital forward party of about six people, to include a QA nurse, went ahead to do a recce prior to the main body arrival. Unfortunately, for reasons that were not quite clear, they accidentally crossed the border into Kuwait and the BBC news, for a short period, full of this story and we were all on tenterhooks until we were all eventually reunited.

After a few days the rest of us were to head off on the Main Supply Route (MSR) to our destination near the town of Hafar Al Batin, which is 94km from the Kuwait border and 74km from the Iraq border. The 12th of January was the allocated day. I should just say that the MSR was rather like the M1 on speed. Every vehicle was given a twenty second window to join their slot and if they missed their allocated space had to wait a further 5 or so days for another allocation, so planning was of the essence.

Our coach, with an assortment of 32 Field Hospital staff, headed off at the allotted time. It was a bit of a culture shock for us uninitiated to be on such a busy road with every military vehicle imaginable, mostly huge juggernaut transporters, not only British and American but many other allied nations, heading north towards the Kuwait and Iraqi borders. The busyness also translated to the sky along our route where an assortment of military helicopters from Apache to huge transporters also headed north.

Our journey was as peaceful as could be in this frenetic environment until about 3 pm in the afternoon when we took a break at a military ‘watering hole’ where the vehicles refueled etc. Some of us were asked to wait in an empty tent where we napped lying on the sand waiting to continue onwards. Although all seemed tranquil (ish) to us, obviously there was generally heightened tension, because after a short while an officer charged into our tent and told us we must get back to our bus and head back to Al Jubail immediately, as it was thought Iraq was about to invade. (Not quite how he put it but words to that effect). Our return journey is a bit of a blur but we arrived back quite late with only minimal kit as our Bergen’s etc had all been put on separate 4 tonners! However, our hosts at 33 Field Hospital were mega accommodating and pulled out all the stops with toiletries and other requirements to fulfil most of our needs. We remained at Al Jubail until the 17th of January when we were given another timed slot on the MSR.

So again, we said our farewells and headed back up the MSR into what we thought was familiar territory. How wrong we were in that at some point in the journey, I think mid to late afternoon, it became apparent that the war was about to, or had begun. We first got an inkling that all was not quite as it had been when we saw most, but not all, military personnel along the route had donned their NBC kit, but we knew nothing! We remained fairly uninformed as far as I can remember for the remainder of the journey. (I guess it’s called the fog of war). Those with long wave frequency radios tried to tune into a very crackly BBC world service and we eventually discovered that the war had started. It felt like a bit of an inauspicious day to be travelling, as in the mind, having watched too many war films, supply routes seem to be a good target option. However, we continued our journey with slightly heightened tensions making slow progress until around 6 am the following day we were again delayed because at some point one of the coaches ahead of us had collided with another. I think this was quite common as many of the drivers on this arduous journey became extremely tired. If my memory serves me correctly, we finally arrived mid-morning at Wadi Haifa Al our home and hospital for the next 2 months and nicknamed Desert Rose. However, those experiences are another story and all I will say is, that it was called ’WADI’ Haifa Al Batin for a reason!


Lt. Col.(Rtd) Penny Moody

Being a Royal Military Academy Sandhurst SSgt Instructor as a Nurse by Cally-Jay Brunton.

Cally-Jay and Arthur

Feb 2019 I attended the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst (RMAS) Instructor Cadre, apprehensive but driven, knowing that from the 59 personnel attending only 31 are selected.

The lead up to this had been a combination of being employed as a Section Commander and Platoon Sergeant as well as the RAP Nurse for the 1st Battalion Welsh Guards.

I had always enjoyed teaching and breaking away from the normal path as a nurse, in spite of encountering frequent obstacles and often being told ‘you can’t do that, you’re a nurse’, whilst maintaining my current and competent clinical status.

I have met some inspirational people throughout this journey to get to the RMAS. Some nurses, but mostly those from the Infantry background; as colleagues and role models.

I am now coming to the end of my two-year tenure as a SSgt Instructor, I wouldn’t change this journey at all. Learning a lot about myself, pushing mentally and physically in lots of areas I would not usually venture towards due to my trade as a Primary Heath Care nurse.

I cannot advocate this decision enough if there are people who are interested in pursuing a slightly off-piste route whilst maintaining clinical competence. It has been hard at times, but the pros have outweighed the cons in lots of areas. Enjoying the ‘green’ aspects from making dems for battle-noise simulation on exercise to drill on the Old College parade square.

My final weeks at the RMAS will be spent preparing for an exercise abroad.



SSgt Cally-Jay Brunton QARANC

A QA Scores for the AMS Cricketers by Patsy May

 

My Dad was a fireman serving at Islington fire station, mad about cricket and played for a Sunday team. He also played for the London Fire Brigade and The National Fire Brigade Teams. My Dad could have taken up cricket professionally but as the eldest of 5 children he had to go out and earn a living at the age 14.

The Sunday cricket club were very sociable, and all the players’ wives, girlfriends and children went along every week. I attended cricket matches from the age of 3 weeks old and by the age of 15 I started scoring for the team. I learnt all the rules by going to night school in Hendon and took the exams.

I trained as a nurse at University College Hospital and at that time the junior student nurse always finished the 7-night stint on a Sunday morning. (The senior student nurse finished on a Thursday morning, thus getting the weekend off). As we only had 4 days off, I did not waste my Sundays sleeping, so I always went to cricket to score for the team.

I continued scoring at cricket matches the whole time I was in the army. I served at BMH Hanover from July 1981-July 1983 and whilst there went on tour with the AMS cricket team to BAOR (British Army of the Rhine).

I was posted to Hong Kong straight from Hanover in 1983. My Dad asked me to go to the library and look through the microfiche of the local paper, The South China Morning Post, to look for an article about him when he played for the Combined Services whilst doing his National Service. After many hours reading through the newspaper I found the article and sent it to him. He was delighted. Unfortunately, my Dad died age just 52, just 8 months after I returned home from Hong Kong.

Whilst serving at the QEMH Woolwich I was asked to go on a cricket tour to Barbados. I did not take much persuading. I went to Barbados 6 weeks after meeting my now husband, leaving him to go away for three weeks with 21 men. In Barbados I was not allowed to stay in the officers mess where all the players stayed as there were no bathroom facilities for females. I stayed with one of the Bajan cricket team.

I hired a mini moke and used it to get around Barbados.

Image by Paul C Leehttps://pixabay.com/

As a treat we were taken to where the West Indies play their international test matches -The Garfield Sobers cricket ground, which was amazing for us as we played at local cricket grounds where on occasions cows were grazing on the outfield. During cricket matches in the hot weather it is usual to have a drinks break of squash to rehydrate. However, in Barbados the drink brought out was rum and coke and as the coke is dearer than the locally produced rum it was more rum than coke. I am sure that gave the local teams an edge over us.

In 1989 I was posted to Bassingbourn Barracks as a WSLO where I stayed for 5 years. When I arrived, I took over from another QA who had not enjoyed the posting and was glad to leave. I can understand why, because she, and then me were the only female officer at Bassingbourn living in the officers mess. I was a Captain and many of the officers were subalterns whom I am sure were not keen to have to have a female officer who was more senior than themselves around. On arrival no one spoke to me I was completely ignored. Shortly after I arrived the CO's XI were playing the RSM's XI at cricket. I spoke to the CO and offered to score at the game. I always keep an immaculate score book in different coloured pens meaning each batsmen knew exactly which bowler he had scored his runs from. All the cricketers were amazed at my cricket bookkeeping skills; after that match I was suddenly one of the lads and treated no differently from any other officer.

I loved my time at Bassingbourn Barracks and I learnt a lot serving with the Army. I found out that during my time at Bassingbourn if you could talk about your love of cricket along with the men you must be ok.


Major (Retd) Patsy May (nee Cox)