大象传媒

I started my nursing career at a voluntary hospital in 1939. Towards the end of the year the Second World War was declared. All was quiet for a while. Cambridge was surrounded by aerodromes so quite often the casualties from these aerodromes came to us. A party of about six us were invited to the social evenings and the R.S.O came with us. We enjoyed the evenings and were quite often invited a second time. One of my most vivid memories was of the 鈥淧athfinder鈥� station at Oakington a few miles from camp. When we arrived the station commander came out to greet us and we went into a very large hall. In the middle there was a very highly polished table. As we approached we cold hear the sound of talking and laughter. Around the table stood a group of young men, dressed in RAF uniform, clean wings, their faces all aglow, it was a sight. We made our way to the dance floor and quickly made friends; we had a most enjoyable evening.

The hospital was very busy, soon rumour had it that the air raids were about to begin. I was on a night duty in the operating theatre after making the theatre ready for any emergency we started to pack the draws with cotton wool and gauze swabs ready to be sent to the sterilising room the rest. We heard the drone of aircraft over head, it got louder and louder, we turned up the corner of the black out curtain and could see they were making for the coast, as we watched they were joined by squadrons from other aerodromes, each squadron flying just like a giant jigsaw puzzle, when they reached the coast the aircraft lights went out. All was quiet and we were left with our thoughts. In the morning we could hear some of the aircraft, the engines coughing and spluttering and we sat and wondered. I was on day duty and we were once again invited to the 鈥淧athfinder鈥� station. As we entered we noticed the quiet, a number of the friends we had made on our first outing were no longer there. They were young, handsome and full of life. We enjoyed the evening but on the way home, left alone with our thoughts, Monica, my friend wept.

East Grinstead Burns Unit.
I had heard about the Burns Unit at East Grinstead but as yet could do nothing about it. One evening we admitted two very badly burned airmen. These two burned airmen had decided my future for me. When my training was finished, I would make my way there. I stayed another year at my training school as did my friends. My friends had decided to go along to the Queen Alexander N S and I was about to go to the burns unit at Park Prewett. The Park Prewett Surgical Unit, under Sir Harold Gillrea I consulted the family on this as I had been quite ill as a child. I eventually arrived at the Park Prewett hospital just outside Basingstoke. It was a very big hospital emptied specially to receive casualties from the second front. The Park Prewett wing was at the time called the Maxilio Facial Unit. The building was quite apart from the main hospital. When I arrived there were two other nurses there from my old hospital both senior to me. We were kept busy. Bombs and the V I鈥檚 and V E鈥檚 were coming over for good measure. There was a lot of activity going on. I had been there a few months before the second front opened. A glider had come down in a field not far from the hospital. My friend and I went to have a look at it. A long thin aircraft painted black, we went inside and there were seats on either side of the fuselage complete with seat belts, we sat down and prayed for the men who were to take part in this big operation. The day dawned. Over land was to take place that evening. As usual my friend came up to my room after duty and we sat, drank tea and chatted. As we sat there we could hear the drone of the aircraft getting nearer until they were over head. We turned back the corner of the curtain; all I could see was a black cloud not a bit of sky could be seen between the aircraft. The noise died above, we made another pot of tea and within a few minutes we could hear the noise of the guns coming from the coast. We had another look and to our horror the sky seemed to be lit up with rockets and gun fire. It was a terrible sight. Needless to say we did not sleep that night. I was on night duty when the casualties started coming in. As they were admitted the casualties were put into bed near each other regardless of nationality. There was a slight pause and I went into the office to catch up with the admissions when I heard a noise coming from the ward. I looked to the ward and there was a patient standing near to the bed containing a heavily bandaged man. I went over and put him back to bed. It happened again and on a second time was told he was a German. There were two small wards with six beds in each ward with a communicating door and a door that led into the corridor. Those two rooms were filled with German casualties. Every night at 9.00pm a soldier would come up to the ward, prop up his rifle outside the door in the corridor. He would then find himself a chair and sit in the room with the P.O.W鈥檚. One evening it was impossible for me to open the door to see if everything was alright, I gave a terrific push and the door opened and I fell flat on my face, waking up the P.O.W鈥檚. When I to leave the room I noticed that they had all been issued with army greatcoats and these were all hanging on the back of the door making it impossible to open the door from the outside. One of the casualties to be admitted was Lord Lovett, head of the Commando Unit. H.R H. King George VI came down to see him the following morning and Lt Lovell was transferred to a hospital for the land. The casualties were getting fewer and I noticed there was a vacancy at the Queen Victoria Hospital E G Burns Unit. I applied and was granted an interview (it was a long journey). I was invited to take a cup of tea and something to eat before I left after my interview. I went into the dining room and there sat three beautiful girls, each wearing B X uniform. I was made welcome and we chatted together. I left the dining room and was about to leave the building when a voice said 鈥渨here are you going?鈥� To the railway station I replied. Hop in my car and I will take you there, we chatted about the reason for my being at the hospital upon which I told the gentleman that I had attended an interview for a position at the hospital but that I did not think I would be appointed. As we were chatting on the way to the station he told me that I had got the job. I thanked him but pointed out that it was customary for the Matron to appoint the appropriate candidate for the job to which he replied 鈥渋n this case I am making that decision and you have got the job鈥�. I then caught the train back to Basingstoke.

I arrived.
My first day at the hospital was quite an experience. The atmosphere at the hospital was so different to any other I had worked in. Most of the patients were RAF personnel. There were many different nationalities; Czech鈥檚, Polish and French to name but a few. The atmosphere in the hospital was so friendly it was a wonderful place to work in, there were always social events taking place. Humour was the order of the day.

It was a wonderful experience and one I shall never forget. I was privileged to be part of it, it as a joy to work there. All of this was due to one man who really was the Pioneer of Plastic Surgery.

The formation of the Guinea Pigs Club.
A magazine was produced once a year. Inside the cover of each one reads the following: -

鈥淲e are the trustees of each other. We do well to remember that the privilege of dying for one鈥檚 country is not equal to the privilege of living for it.鈥�

Sir Archibald McIndoe, 1944

A wonderful hospital made so by a wonderful man, truly a pioneer.

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