大象传媒

"This story was submitted to the People's War site by the CSV/大象传媒 Radio Nottingham on behalf of Mrs. P Sapey with her permission. The author fully underatands the site's terms and conditions."

1939 now seems an awful time away, but this year certainly altered so many lives, its hard to imagine. I remember talking about its coming with my parents all of us keeping our fingers crossed and hoping.
That Septemeber morning seemed to darken everything ny parents sat still and quiet and held my sister and me, what was the future to bring to our home, village and country we were soon to know.
I was working in a hosiery factory at the time, then the reality came in, gas-masked, blackout, bike handle bars blacked, lamps shaded, no street lamps to guide us home, the issue of ration books and identity cards seemed to take identities away.
The 'calling up' then started, sadness spread rife, a brother, son, boyfriend and neighbour, week by week our village seemed to get smaller, although being a mining area, and work being exempt still faces seemed to disappear. The ARP patrols started and fire-drill in my factory, we had to fire watch on Saturday afternoon and sunday on a rota, I still have a lovely photograph of myself and works mates on duty.
Presently it was time for women to be 'called up' I had an interview with my age group, we were offered the forces, land-army, ammunition, my childhood desire was to be a nurse so asked about that, I had been in the St. John's Ambulance from being old enough and I'm sure that heped me, so I was a lucky one to get my choice. After a few months a letter came for me to be interviewed again and a medical exam, then later telling to report to Mansfield General Hospital for a weeks training, back to work for a while then a posting to Chesterfield Royal Hospital where I spent 3 years and 11 months, I loved it, in spite of long hours and heavy work, little pay.
I had been at the hospital for a while when my 21st birthday was approaching, this was on a Boxing-Day, Christmas Day we had no time off but could join in any activity etc on the wards, hard lines for the night shift but they did not walk the corridors with lots of staff to sing carols Christmas Eve, this brought tears to staff and patients, very moving, Boxing Day we had 4 hours off during the day, usually we only had 3 hours including dinner break. I asked if I could have the evening off to go home for my part, no I couldn't was the answer, I was given the 2 - 6 o'clock break and had to rush home, then leave my home at 5 - 5.30 to return back, change uniform and work another 2 and a half hours, no we didn't have any champayne.
Forces personel was already coming into the hospitals by this time, Dunkirk evacuation, then later we had 8th Army from North Africa, these had already had treatment over there, but still needed hospital stay, very brave men, and steady flow continued.
The time passed as normally as possible, then a awe-some waiting for the big invitation, although it was hush-hush, all our leave was trimmed down and local patients were transferred home as soon as possible or moved to other wards, the closed wards were all made ready, then came the news being announced on the radio, a horrid quietness flooded over us, we had nursed the 8th Army and knew these men would come back as soon as possible, in what states.
I cannot explain it all, I was at the annexe to the hospital at that time, waiting on the empty wards when the ambulances arrived, I cannot explain in full now of the impact now, its still imprinted in my memory but it was awful, some had been travelling by boat, hospital ships, then hospital Trains onto ambulances, most of them had been quickly treated as quickly as possible but we didn't know where to start, there were kit bags, helmets, crutches, streachers, sticks, boots, great coats you name it it came, under the beds were stuffed with these things, the not too badly wounded were already in hospital blues, white shirt, red tie etc but most were still clad in dirty uniforms, talk about hygeine I could write a book. Afterward as more came in batches things seemed a bit easier, we had the re-action of the first batch, mentally and poorly ones, nightmares, tension, relapse and tears, no councelling then the first batch helped us as the walking ones would look after the others, sit and talk, and help in small ways and the atmosphere suddenly sorted to gain some form of normality and routine, although they didn't mind the pain they were suffering or inconvienience, they were in clean beds and most of all they were in England.
Nursing was very hard work in those days, no bath-lifts, easy movable beds, no proper facilities for toiletry etc. Everything was just basic, a strict routine was inforced for patients and staff, we had one day off a week, no set day, our hours were from 7.45am until 8pm, we had 2 hours break during the day, meals were mid-morning break 10 o'clock - 11 o'clock between 3 rota's, Sinner 12-1.30 again all these were 3 rota's, again at 6-7.30 and 2 hours during the day if these co-incided with the meal times it made it a little longer, we had to stand behind our chairs in the dining room until matron etc appeared, then grace, the meals were typical wartime fare, the same, as the patients, we couldn't leave until the 'top table' did, the only time that we could be late for a meal and that was if we were on theatre duty, then it appeared rather dry sometimes almost uneatable.
I could write a book of all the unbelievable happenings on a ward full of unsung heroes, many laughable, humourous some not so, but my happiest days was when I booked a wounded soldier on the ward who later became my husband for 55 years, but that's a different story.

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