大象传媒

My Mother's name was Mary Loving.She was an Army Nurse during the war.Sadly she died 3 years ago ,but I am sure she would have wanted to contribute-so here are some of her most often repeated memories.
My mothers home was Ringwood.When Southampton was being bombed for the first time she went down with my grandfather on his motorcycle to watch from a nearby hill.There were a lot of other people there.It was night and the german bombers were flying low in pairs-using the hill where she stood as a turning point.The Cabins were illuminated and you could see the crews inside quite clearly.As the night progressed the fires spread and the meat warehouse on the docks went up like an inferno.The smell of roasting pork soon wafted over."No meat this month"someone said. Gradually the reality of what was happening began to sink in ,and the horror struck home.She never wanted to watch an air raid again.
One of her school friends, Eric Betteridge was killed when his plane was shot down.It crashed on his own parents farm.An amazing coincidence.
In April 1943 she was stationed in Bournemouth.One Sunday she was coming back from Church Parade with a lot of other people along the cliff tops.Six Focke Wolfs attacked at cliff height from the sea.No one saw or heard them coming.Everything happened in a second.The machine gun bullets came whizzing in and the planes flew over at head height at the same time.Then they were gone.Loads of dead and injured lying around.My mother had been shielded by a brick lavatory block,there had been no time to take cover.First instincts of the nurses was to help.But wiser heads prevailed,and they were all ordered back to the hospital where they could do more good.Other planes had attacked the town centre and there were a lot of other casualities.
Soon after this she was posted to London,based at St Thomas's.She was out and about during the raids of 1943 helping to rescue the injured.One of her good friends at this time was Rosemary Clive.She was very upset when Rosemary's brother Felix was killed ,when his plane was shot down.
When D-day was iminent,the hospital was put on alert,and nobody was alowed to leave or telephone.At this time my mother received her only piece of issued kit.Namely a pair of shoes.Hers had got damaged,and she could not get out to get another pair.On D-Day the first casualities arrived at 4am on a destroyer that moored on the Thames right next to St Thomas's.Things were a bit busy after that.
After a few weeks she was moved to the war hospital at Chertsey.Made much larger with lots of nissen huts.Casualities were flown directly from Normandy in Dakotas.They took off in the dark so that they would arrive at dawn.They then landed in the grounds of the Hospital.This happened every third day-there being two other similar hospitals.My mother was what was called a scarlet runner.Sorting the injured as they came off the plane-still in their battle dress,only a few hours after being wounded. It upset her to see the dead ones being unceremoniously thrown into the back of a waiting truck. Then on to help in the operating theaters.12 hours a day,7 days a week for 3 weeks.then a break.Then start again. German troops also came.One particular german officer had a great effect. He clanked in with all his medals and shinny boots." My name is SS Oberfuhrer Kurt Og" He said in perfect english,"And I Vant a private room" Needless to say everyone started laughing.Now the SS weren't used to being laughed at,so he started to look really offended.Which caused everyone to laugh even more.He didn't get his private room-but was correctly and well looked after.
At the time of the Arnhem operation there was a call for nurses to be flown into the battlefield as there were so many wounded.Getting voluteers was no problem and soon a planefull of nurses in flight suits ,including my mother,was taxiing along the runway of a nearby airfield.The plane waited at the end of the runway for a few minutes.And then the mission was called off.Everyone had a mixture of dissapointment and relief-all at the same time.
Then there was the storey of the three Scottish sergeants.It was during the crossing of the Rhein.The three came in together.My Mother noticed their shoulder flashes.51st Highland Division Airborne"What are you doing here?" She asked."I have never heard of your unit".
"Ah well,we are the bit of the Division that escaped from Dunkirk,when everyone else was taken prisoner.There were so few of us we were attached to the airborne troops." "Are there any more of you? " my mother asked." No,I don't think so "came the reply ."Our gliders landed in front of a german position and everyone else was killed" Needless to say ,a great fuss was made of these sergeants.A scottish pipe band was called in to entertain them.In later years my mother was always attracted to Sottish music,and used to listen transfixed,with a few tears in her eyes.
On the subject of entertaining the troops,not only did the King and Queen visit regularly,but practically every star of stage and screen,both British and American ,acame to do their bit in cheering everyone up.Not necessarily in a big concert,but by chatting to individuals and doing little pieces in the wards.
The war continued.The work was hard ,but there were compensations.There was good food,more than most other people had,unlimited free cigarettes,an open travel warrant,and tickets to all the London shows and concerts were freely available,at no charge.
When the war in europe came to an end,my mother was transfered to Stoke Mandeville hospital. At that time it was a military hospital for longer stay patients. She had her own ward ,with an office,so she got to know her patients much better. The site of the hospital was very spread out ,and so electric milk floats were used to get about.On V.J. day the soldiers mutinied,hijacked all the floats,loaded up the less mobile patients on the back, and set off to find a party.Some of them made it all the way to London,before the charge ran out.It took quite a long time to round up all the lost patients,but it didn't seem to have done them any harm.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.