A Little Episode

Winter 1915-1916

It was bitterly cold last Sunday night, and as we came out of chapel after Evensong my senior partner said to me, "Come down to the hut and have a warm, Grib." Now that always appeals to me, as being employed in the operating theatre I do not often go inside a hut. So we trotted down to Crystal Palace somewhere in C Block. We had been in the hut about five minutes when the door flew open and two starved-looking little urchins marched in, selling evening papers. They, too, were very cold, and when they saw the stove made a bee-line for it, and were with difficulty prevented from embracing it. The men had finished their supper, and Sister said to the small boys;
"Would you like something to eat?"
"Not 'arf!" one of them replied. "Come on, Arfer; come and have supper wiv the soldiers. I never had supper wiv soldiers before. 'Evening, Sergeant, how are you? I wish I was a soldier, I do!"
They pleased the men, and the ward was in an uproar at their quaint remarks and manners. One of them was much more hungry than the other, and ate everything that came his way. The other appeared to be afflicted with a strange disease known as 'shyness.'

And when Tich's hunger was appeased he turned to the congregation and said, "Now I'll arst you a riddle. Any of you good at telling riddles?" We all said we were, so he enquired; "Why are they widening the streets of Berlin?" No reply from the assemblage - to the gentleman's joy - and he told us triumphantly; "Because they don't like the Allies, of course. See?"
We did see, and the conversation became general, and one of the Tommies enquired what their dinner had consisted of. "Bacon and greens," replied Tich. "Garn!" said Arthur. "Bacon bones, you mean. Now I had giblets." "Giblets?" asked the Tommies - "what are giblets?" "Well, the insides of ducks or chickens or pigeons, or anything like that; you boil 'em up, and that's giblets." And the congregation marvelled.

Tich then told us a little family history. "Oh, yes, I've got a good home, and me faver's a brass-finisher ... He finishes all me muvver's brass, anyhow."
Sister now enquired if he would like any more food.
"No, thank you, Missis!" The rest of the nurses were 'Miss' only. The Tommies then offered them cigarettes, and we felt it our duty to tell them how smoking stopped little boys from growing, but Tich said brightly, "Yes, Miss, but it's an 'abit, and an 'abit is an 'ard thing to break off."

Arthur suddenly remembered that they wouldn't sell their papers if they didn't go; so off they went, with many expressions of gratitude to Sister and her Tommies; and as they went out of the hut I heard Tich say; "Well, we touched lucky tonight, didn't we?"

MARY G. GRIBBLE

[Mary Gertrude Gribble was born in September 1887, the daughter of an Oxford 'College Servant.' She trained as a nurse at Marylebone Infirmary, London between 1909 and 1912, was mobilised with the Territorial Force Nursing Service on 7 September 1914, and served for six years until her demobilisation in August 1920. Mary Gribble died in Battle, Sussex, in 1975.]