dysentery. We have had to write each mail to his people, but now I am
glad to say he is doing well. Several of the orderlies are down with
enteric, including our mess-room waiter; so "Cup-of-tea" has to wait on
our mess of eighteen, and needs a good deal of looking after.
I expect they will give me another orderly soon, but so many are ill,
and the wards are heavy, and need a good many men for night duty. Every
few nights the orderlies have to do a spell on night (as well as their
ordinary day) duty, so they are rather inclined to grumble, and it is
difficult for them to keep awake; but I don't think any of them do
longer hours than I do, as I prowl about a good deal in the night when
the cases first come down and are bad; so they don't grumble too loud.
The sisters seemed to be getting rather fagged out, so I have begun to
give them in turn a monthly day off, and I look after their wards. I
find it is rather useful, as I get a good opportunity of seeing how they
have managed, and also of learning how much the orderlies are good for;
it is quite touching how good they are to me: they want to show me they
can be trusted, and they do everything they possibly can to save me
trouble on these "days off." From the sergeant-major downwards they
have always been very nice to me, and I am sure I do very little for
them (except when they are ill and need fussing over) beyond scolding
them for misdeeds for which the sisters report them.
I wonder whether they guess that, all the time, I feel that the sisters
are expecting too much of them!
I was amused when a new sergeant arrived with twenty men the other day;
of course, at first they did not know any of us, and when I met them and
said "Good morning," they simply gaped. The next day I had a fatigue
party sent up to tidy the china and linen store; of course our old batch
of men saluted when I went to show them what I wanted done; and I expect
the new men received a few words from them on their slack manners
afterwards, for since then there has been a very stiff draw up and
salute whenever they come for orders or with a message. I hear the army
sisters are not saluted as a rule.
I think I told you how much we suffered from fleas at first; now they
are quite banished. We have twenty coolies, and a good orderly in charge
of them, and they do all the sanitary work, and sweep and scrub and
generally keep the place tidy (they also have to dig the graves), and
since we have got rid of all the packing-cases, and everything is trim
and tidy, the fleas have disappeared.
So far we have had very few wounded in--nearly all enteric or dysentery,
with some cases of camp fever, rheumatism, &c.; the medical officers are
disappointed at so little surgical work, but I don't think I mind, as we
can feel we are actually saving the lives of some of these men by sheer
hard nursing, and that is good enough for me; sometimes a man sees that
I am worrying about a patient who does not seem to be improving, or who
is going downhill, and he will come up and say "Never mind, Sister, he
would have been dead long ago if he had been left in that Field Hospital
any longer; you have given the chap a chance." It is grand to see the
first batch of men, who came to us so desperately ill, so haggard,
starved, dirty, and miserable, getting about now in their blue suits,
looking so clean and bright, though still very thin.
Some of them are beginning to need to be amused, and the knitting wool
and materials for worsted work that I brought out are coming in very
useful; in fact, they will soon be finished, but the Durban ladies have
kindly promised to send me more.
Several of the men were making worsted belts in one ward the other day,
and a big Scotchman looked in and asked them to go for a walk, but they
refused, saying they were busy, and the Scotchman was heard to mutter
"They've all turned blooming milliners!"
Lieutenant ---- (the giant) is getting on very well, and he was always
saying I must stay and amuse him, or else give him some toys, so I have
started him with some worsted work, and he is more contented, and as
fussy about my providing him with the right shades of wool as any old
lady. The Lieutenant in the next bed has learnt to knit, and Major ----,
the ptomaine poisoning case, looks surprised at their babyishness.
The other day Sister B. was going to have a day off, and these boys,
overhearing her instructions about themselves, made up some poetry on
the subject (which I enclose), and Sister won't hear the last of it for
some time.
We have a service in the wards every other Sunday, and the hymn-books I
brought out are most useful.
_June 13._--The last few days have been very busy and very sad.
On the 7th we had a trainload of patients--two officers and
seventy-three men--several of the men very bad. I was up most of the
first night helping with the bad cases, but one poor fellow died the
next day (he was never conscious after he got here); that day also,
Sister ---- knocked up with slight fever, so I had to take over her
ward, and there were several bad cases in it.
The orderlies are knocking up with enteric--six of them warded; and I
have hardly liked to leave them at night, as several of them are
inclined to be delirious and try to get out of bed.
L. was the worst, but he did not seem in any special danger till last
Wednesday: on that day I was Orderly Sister for the afternoon, and on my
first round I talked to them all, and he seemed much as usual, but on my
second round I found him distinctly worse, and with a failing pulse. I
called his doctor, and we tried everything possible, but he soon became
unconscious, and died at 7.30 P.M. All the orderlies are dreadfully cut
up; several of them come from the same place in Yorks. He was such a
fine, strong young fellow, and it seems only the other day that he was
acting as groom, and put me up on the black pony, and was so pleased I
could manage him. He was a butcher by trade, rough in his ways, but so
good-natured; I must write to his poor mother.
He had a military funeral, and we let every orderly go who could be
spared. The clergyman asked me if the men would like to have a hymn in
church, so we sang "Brief life is here our portion." Several people
sent wreaths, and the men are going to make a wooden cross. This was the
first death amongst our staff. Having so many orderlies ill, and the
place pretty full, we have been very busy, and many of the men have had
to do eighteen-hour shifts every two or three days: that is to say,
their usual twelve-hour day and half the night. So they are having a
heavy time of it. Enclosure:--
SISTER'S "DAY OFF"
There once was a Sister called Baker,
Of beds she's an excellent maker,
She knows temperatures too,
And between "me and you"
Is of medicines an excellent shaker.
She shows each man's vice--how to treat it,
And warns Sister H. how to meet it:
"No. 2 you can trust
But show T-- a crust,
Well, it's a thousand to one he'll eat it."
She dilates on the treatment we need,
All our habits, our drinks, our feed;
"I repeat, Mr. T--
Doesn't realise all, but
He cannot be trusted for greed."
"Mr. N--, however, is wise,
At the sight of eggs hard boiled he sighs,
D-- eschew them I must
And that beautiful crust,
For on me Sister Baker relies."
You may ask how we know what was said
The culprit there lying in bed,
Overheard in the dark,
The whispered remark,
And tears of hot anger he shed.
The moral is not far to seek:
A crust perforates you when weak,
While eavesdropping at night
Is really not right
For it's apt to raise anger and pique.
(_With apologies to the Authors._)
XXXII
PINETOWN, NATAL,
_July 1900_.
Since my last letter we have had a good many changes of patients, some
being sent back to the front, and others going home by various hospital
ships. It is so nice to see some who were carried in desperately ill,
able to march down to the train so cheery and bright, and tremendously
grateful.
We sent thirty home by the H.S. _Dunera_ last month, and were just
hoping to have time to breathe, and to get the sheets and blankets
washed, when we had a wire to tell us to expect seventy-five more; so we
had a scramble to get the beds and bedding ready for them, and they
nearly filled us up; but they were not quite such a _bad_ lot as our
previous batches had been, and there were a good many wounded by way of
a change.
We were still short-handed, so had to do a good deal of sorting of
patients; turning some wards into convalescent wards, that needed only
occasional visits from a sister, and no night orderlies--a sergeant
patient being made responsible for good order in the ward.
Several of the orderlies are still ill: the mess-room man has had a
relapse, and will not be fit for work for some time; the second
compounder has also been very bad with typhoid--delirious for more than
a week--but I think he will do all right now; it has been awkward, as
the first compounder can only just crawl about after his spell of
illness.
We have had one man awfully bad with double pneumonia after a stiff turn
of typhoid. Then he got a bad abscess in the jaw, and had to have it
operated on; for some days his temperature hovered between 105° and
106°, but now he is doing well, and will soon be sent home.
We have been inspected by Colonel Clery, who, unfortunately, came on the
day on which we had those seventy-five men in, and before we had got
them all washed or their kit put away; but he was very pleasant to me,
and said he was pleased with the wards and the looks of the patients,
bedding, &c.
We have also had several other distinguished visitors--Sir John Furley,
Sir William Stokes, and Major Baptie of the R.A.M.C., who won his V.C.
at Colenso.
We have all been very sorry to hear of the death of Colonel Forrester,
who had been in charge of the Princess Christian Hospital Train, and had
been here several times bringing us patients.
The four months for which this hospital was given, equipped, and
maintained by private generosity, are now nearly over, and in a few days
we shall have become a Government Hospital. We shall then receive our
pay and various allowances from the Government; and we are now arranging
to separate the mess of the sisters from that of the medical officers. I
expect it will be difficult to keep our stores separately, but we shall
wish to live more economically than they do. For the present we have
decided to share the same cook, an Indian who has been acting as our
dhobie for the last few weeks, and who, we hear, is a good cook; his
wife will continue to act as our dhobie; she is such a pretty little
thing, with rings in her nose and bangles on her ankles and arms.
I quite expected to be superseded by an Army Sister proper when the
hospital was handed over, but the P.M.O. has asked me to "carry on"
(which does not mean the same in the army as it does in Cockney land!)
The other day poor Miss H. arrived. She had started from England as soon
as she heard her brother was ill here, meaning to nurse him, and I think
I told you he died here (our first death amongst the officers). It was
awfully sad for her. I was frightfully busy the day she came, but felt I
must walk over to the cemetery with her. She is a trained nurse, and we
should have been very glad of her help if she could only have arrived in
time, as her brother was delirious for so long, and we had to take turns
at sitting up with him for some time; but everything that could possibly
be done for him was done.
They do seem to muddle things a bit; in the last few weeks we have had
_seven_ new sisters sent to us; we would have given anything for a few
of them a couple of months ago, but now there is much less fever, and
many of the beds are filled with convalescents. We had no rooms for so
many sisters, so had to put up tents for them.
One day we sent off a batch of over fifty men for home, emptied several
wards (putting the remaining cases into other wards), and had a general
clean up; the same day we had a wire to tell us to expect seventy-two
men the next evening, so we had a scramble to get the linen dry and
everything ready for them. They proved to be all convalescents, and they
came down thinking they were going straight on board ship for home, and
of course were rather disgusted at being stopped here. The next day,
having got them all settled in, and their kit stowed away, we had a wire
asking us to send sixty men down to Durban the next morning for home!
So, again, there was a great bustle and inspection, and the lucky sixty
having been selected had to retrieve their kit from the store and be
fitted up with comforts for the voyage.
We feel sure that it was all a mistake their coming here at all, and
that they ought to have gone straight on board ship. Of course it gave
us an awful lot of work, and did not do them any good. We must try to
see the remaining twelve get off with the next batch.
The other day fifteen new orderlies came, men of the Imperial Bearer
Company (chiefly recruited from refugees and other Colonials). Some of
them are quite old and bearded, and there was much puffing over their
march up from the station. It is so funny to have to hurry these
venerable gents round the wards when they look at me solemnly through
their specs, and the Tommies are rather inclined to humbug them.
Some of our original St. John's men will have to leave soon, as their
time is up, and we are letting all those go who are not very keen on the
work, but, unfortunately, some of the keen ones want to go too. I am
sorry to lose them, and rather blame the sisters for it.
The orderlies have been awfully nice to me; two of the best have been
promoted to be sergeants. One, who has been chiefly in the officers'
ward (he is a railway guard at home), has been splendidly patient with
them all; and the other is the man who has been in charge of the
sanitary work and managed the coolies.
I have been having a little riding lately while the extra sisters have
been here, and all the sisters in turn are having a few days' leave.
One day some people asked us to go for a picnic (riding), so we
collected all the screws we could, and, making a party of twelve, we
rode to a very pretty waterfall about nine miles from here, and they had
arranged for tea at a quaint old farmhouse near by.
Riding back by moonlight my (funeral) horse was so keen that I could
hardly hold him, so I was riding ahead with one of the men, when,
hearing a shout, we hurried back and found the senior civil surgeon had
had a tumble. He was not much of a horseman, and they had put him on the
very quietest nag, but it had stumbled, and he came off.
He managed to ride home at a walk, though he was unconscious for a few
minutes at first. He was a good deal shaken, and had to keep quiet for
some days.
Another day we went to the Trappist Abbey; when we arrived, they kept us
waiting some time in a room, and then a meal suddenly appeared--poached
eggs, delicious brown bread, honey, fruit, tea, and tamarind wine. We
were surprised, as it was early in the afternoon, but we felt obliged to
accept it, and it was all very good, though I shied at the tamarind
wine. Afterwards they showed us round the place.
It is really wonderful what these Trappists do for the natives, with
their schools, shops for bootmaking, saddlery, tanning, ironmongery,
printing, photography, &c.; but whether it does the native any real and
lasting good to teach him all these things is quite another matter.
Everything seems to be running more smoothly in the hospital now, and
even if the place were full of bad cases (as it was at the first), now
that the orderlies are getting to know their duties, we feel that we
could tackle the work without the hopeless sensation of being unable to
do half enough for everybody.
We are very lucky in our Major: he is very keen to have everything well
done, and one can always go to consult him in any difficulty.
XXXIII
PINETOWN, NATAL,
_August 1900_.
We are now a full-blown Military Hospital, instead of being partly civil
and partly military. Everybody had talked so much about the coming of
"red tape" that I had been a little nervous about the change; but,
except just in the transition stage, everything has gone very smoothly,
and when everybody gets used to the military ways I think it will be all
right. Personally, I shall have much less worry and responsibility, for
we now have a Lieutenant-Quartermaster of the R.A.M.C., and I shall not
have to try to look after the linen and other stores. Moreover, a batch
of Indians has arrived and gone into camp, with a good headman, and they
will do all the washing over which I have had so many struggles with
careless Kaffir women.
I had to attend a big function down in Durban, when the residents
presented the gentleman who gave this hospital with an illuminated
address. There were many speeches, and much "butter" for all the staff.
I was presented with a large photograph of the address.
We have had a good many changes in the staff, and among the civil
surgeons who have gone home is the only one of us who understood the
electric light plant, with which, in consequence, we have had
difficulties. I hope we shall soon find an orderly who understands it,
as, when the light fails and we have to grope about with candles, the
men cannot read, and find the long evenings very dull.
I hear many interesting tales when I go about trying to amuse the men on
these occasions; the other day I was called to enjoy a joke--some of
them had asked an Irishman whether he knew what "strategy" meant? and he
said "Yes, it means like this, sure, when you've fired your last
cartridge, don't let the enemy know, but jest kape on firing all the
same!" I don't know whether it was original, but he brought it out as
though it was.
I have had a few days of slight fever since I wrote last, and I took a
couple of days off, and spent them at Umkomaas with some friends, who
have a nice cottage down there. It is the most perfect little seaside
place I have ever struck; such jolly woods all round the cottage, with
semi-tropical growth, and lots of monkeys in the trees; glorious rocks,
and _such_ a blue sea. I had a delightful rest, and came back much
better, but of course found various muddles to face, and they always
make one wish one had never gone!
The worst thing I had to straighten out was a complaint from a medical
officer about a sister; they had been rubbing each other the wrong way
for some time, and of course I thought if I had not gone away I might
have kept the peace; however, as the complaint was a definite one
(though in no way serious), and was also _just_, I had to move her to a
less important ward. This very much hurt her feelings, and I was sorry,
as, though not a good manager, she is very good to the patients. Now she
works for a different doctor, and there is peace in the camp.
All the civil surgeons and sisters growl at the new military rules and
regulations, but I think they are rather inclined to make mountains out
of mole-hills--they can really get all they want if they set about it in
the proper way, but they don't take the trouble to find out what _is_
the proper way. Perhaps I have rather spoilt the sisters by letting them
have things that were urgently ordered from my stores at any time, but
now that the place is not so crowded up with bad cases they must learn
to order in the proper way and at the proper time.
In one respect I was afraid that our system would be changed, but the
Major has very kindly arranged it as I wished; I saw, when at the Cape
(and heard of it in other hospitals), that when a sick convoy arrived
there was much delay before the men were classified and put to
bed--sometimes not until several hours after their arrival. One cause of
the delay was that each man, if he could crawl, had to go up to the
store to draw his kit and sign for it himself; the poor chaps used to
look so frightfully ill and tired with this weary waiting about, before
they could get food or a wash, after (perhaps) some days in a train.
Here we have managed quite differently; as soon as we received the wire
saying that patients were coming (and the number), we had everything
issued for that number; the beds were all made up, and before they
arrived I used to go round and see that the crockery for each man was on
his locker, a clean shirt, towel, soap and flannel, &c., all ready, so
that the men could be carried straight to their beds as soon as they
arrived, and have a good basin of bovril without any delay; then those
who were well enough to go up to the store to give in their kit and to
receive their hospital suit did so; and the orderlies took up the kit
of those who were too ill (of course they did not want hospital suits).
Now it is necessary for all, who are able, to sign for their equipment
(sheets, blankets, &c.); but the Major lets us have some beds fully
equipped in each ward before the men arrive, and the orderlies sign for
those fittings until the men arrive, and then they countersign the book,
so that the bad cases can still be carried straight to their beds.
Our new mess arrangements are working well; it is much more comfortable
having a cook with a kitchen separate from that from which all the food
for patients, orderlies, and others is served. We had to buy a new
stove, but as the expense was shared between the medical officers and
sisters, it did not come to very much. Our Madrassee cook is serving us
very well. I thought it would be difficult to keep our stores separate,
but he seems to manage well and economically, and he is a good cook and
serves the things up very nicely. We share the expense of his wages with
the doctors, but have separate boys for our mess waiters and for our
rooms.
I have kept John on for the sisters' rooms: he is very slow, but a good
old thing, and very clean. It is the custom for these boys to go home
for a day or two when their wages are paid, but you always keep some of
what is due to them in hand (or they don't come back); but when the
hospital was handed over to the Government, the boys were all paid up to
date, so of course they all cleared, but John promised to come back in
two days, and I thought he would; but it was six days later when I found
him slinking about his work and looking like a big dog that expected a
whipping. I said, "Oh, John, you bad boy, sisters not have you back any
more," and then he said his wife was "plenty sick," but I told him I
thought Kaffir beer was plenty good, at which he grinned, and I had to
forgive him!
William, our good scamp of a mess-room boy, never returned, so I had to
go into Durban to the toct (or tax) master at the police station, who
generally looks after all the natives and gives them their passes, &c. I
chose a boy who was recommended, but he never turned up, so I was
thinking I must go again and lead one out from Durban with me, when the
dearest little Kaffir turned up, with a note from the toct master,
saying he was a very good boy, and his name was "Imdenbe, son of Cholem,
Chief of Imsugelum, Umtenta," so I was rather relieved when the boy said
his name was "Dick"!
I thought he was much too small to reach to put the things on the table,
but he is very quick and nimble and clean, and both the cook and John
are very fond of him; so we manage all right, and he looks perfectly
sweet in his white suits with red braid--they all wear things like
bathing-dresses, with short sleeves, and go about barefoot.
The worst of the enteric season seems to be over now, and we are very
slack, and we hear it is the same at all the hospitals up this side. The
days are still very hot, but the nights are quite cold.
I expect you hear more about this Hospital Commission than we do, but
the R.A.M.C. men are very sick about it, as they have worked so
tremendously hard all through the war.
I think every one agrees that the Tommies have never been so well looked
after in any war before, but no doubt at the front they have suffered
badly, more especially at Bloemfontein, where, suddenly, the army was
attacked by a perfect scourge of enteric (I believe there were about
6000 cases there); but people must remember they were 900 miles from
their base, with only a single line of rail, and for the last 250 miles
almost every bridge destroyed, so that all traffic had to be carried on
with the utmost caution over temporary bridges, only a few trucks
crossing at a time; also it was an unusually dry season, so that engines
often had to drop their heavy trains, run on to get water, and then
return for them.
The Transvaal could practically supply nothing to feed the troops, as
the Boers had planted no crops.