November 1916
When we orderlettes came here, we were, taking us on the whole, a beautiful verdant green. Surely nothing so soft and green had ever been thrust ruthlessly through the gates of a military hospital before - not even the patient who enquired whether the sisters' capes might be used as pen-wipers! But we soon started to get knocked into shape - literally in some cases - by our kind R.A.M.C. sergeants and their willing helpers; we don't bear them any ill-will - on the contrary, we wish to congratulate them on the thorough and energetic manner in which they carried out this painful duty.
Now, after a twelve months' struggle, the green is beginning to wear off in patches, and the black underneath is showing through; some day we hope to be quite black all over like the men orderlies. To be successful, we found that we must imitate our colleagues the men orderlies, and we gradually discovered that the reason for their being able to live such happy butterfly existences was because they were all past-masters in the art of the misrepresentation of facts - they often take enormous risks, certainly, but the means justify the end as a rule. Of course, we had to set ourselves to acquire this art as soon as possible, and very difficult we found it at first. We realised that the little white lies that had served us so well in the past, such as "I didn't know where it was," or "I thought so-an-so was doing it," etc., were of no use to us here - what is more, they did us harm, for they exhausted the patience of the sisters (and the sisters' patiences are like clinical thermometers - there is a very limited supply in stock and none in reserve). It is often better to be silent and take the blame for someone else's crimes than to offer a common or garden excuse.
There are many different kinds of excuses, for after all 'excuse' is a nicer term, isn't it? There is the thoughtless excuse, given on the spur of the moment (which is usually sheer waste of breath); for instance, when the sister fixes you with her eagle eye and enquires as to the whereabouts of two missing teacloths (not being a conjuror by profession and having no idea where they are), in the excitement of the moment you may say, "They must have blown out of the bundle on the way down," or "I expect B2 borrowed them in the night." This kind of excuse is worse than useless, and usually brings its own reward, but if you quietly think for a moment or two and concoct something which needs thrashing out, it very often has the desired effect. For instance, if you put on an expression of thoughtful concern, and say, "Well sister, the day before yesterday I know there were four teacloths in the bundle, and when the man orderly brought the linen back I was over at the Dispensary, and I have only seen two since," and while the hue and cry is being raised for the elusive man orderly you can go off quietly and have a good look for the missing articles yourself.
Nothing succeeds like success in hospital life, and the more worldly-wise and keen-witted a person is, the more woolly and lamblike he becomes in appearance; always beware of a member of the staff who gazes up into your face with pure, clear eyes - fly from them as you would fly from the Stewards' Stores with an unsterile milk can! And always remember this, that 'a lie that is half the truth is a harder matter to fight'; therefore, when you think you see a patient smoking in bed during the prohibited hours and you hurry up and ask him what he is doing, and with an innocent smile he informs you, "Just lying in bed, nurse," you will know that he is telling a perfectly true lie!
AN ORDERLETTE
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