Hospital Notice Board

Winter 1915-1916

THE POST OFFICE is open at the following hours: 9-12.30, 1.45-2.30, 3.30-4, 5.15-5.45, 6.30-7, 8.45-9.30.
LETTERS FOR PATIENTS - Patients wishing to receive their letters promptly should urge their friends to put the number of the ward upon the envelope. Letters so marked can be delivered at once, but others are liable to considerable delay, as they all have to be looked up in the books.

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THE HOSPITAL BARBERS - The Barber's Shop is open for patients' haircutting from 1 to 4 p.m., and orderlies from 6.30 to 7.45 a.m. and 5 to 6 p.m. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, from 1 to 4 p.m., walking patients will be shaved, but only those who, owing to injury to the right arm or for some other reason are unable to shave themselves. The barbers also go round the wards. When an urgent case is in need of the barber, the Sister is requested to leave a message with the Ward Master. Attention is also drawn to the fact that Pte. Chasty (Barber) can be called in to deal with chiropody cases.

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LODGINGS NEAR THE HOSPITAL - Friends who have come from a distance to visit patients here, and who wish to stay in the neighbourhood for a night or two, can obtain a list of suitable apartments, let at reasonable rates, on applicatIon to Mr. Brown at the Post Office in Trinity Road (close to the hospital gates). It is advisable to send a postcard to Mr. Brown in order that the rooms may, if possible, be engaged in advance.

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Timetable of the 25th

Xmas Day Festivities (?) in a German Military Hospital

By L/Cpl Towler (Returned Prisoner of War)

1. 5.30: Reveille (very humorous)

2. 5.40: Washing (absurdly funny - no soap and no flannel)

3. 7.30: V.A.B. (Very appetising breakfast) Menu: Black bread, two slices; jam

4. 8.30: Bosche doctor arrives. Tells us 'Mr Grey' is the cause of all our trouble; does dressings.

5. 11 o'c: Dinner (not prepared by Savoy chef): Horseflesh; vegetables; that's all

6. 6.30 p.m.: Tea (extra-superfine Ceylon); black bread; jam

7. 7.30 p.m.: Supper (highly delectable): Basin vegetable soup; H2O blend wine

8. 8 p.m.: Lights out. Chorus by hospital staff: "Gott strafe England"

Last Christmas Eve

Winter 1915-1916

The Assistant Matron has specially written for The Gazette the following short account of last Christmas Eve's charming festivities at the 3rd L.G.H.

The exciting time of year had dawned again; the time which sees everyone enthusiastic, hurrying to and fro with that look of pleasure which always comes when one is thinking out means of giving pleasure to others. This was the dawn of Christmas Eve. Each member of our nursing staff had her own part to play. First the patients were attended to, as usual - for not even on December 24th can the routine of a hospital be interrupted. Then some of us hurried forth and returned presently with armfuls of flowers; these were followed later by cases of plants. These, with the flags of all the Allies, made the wards festive and bright - each ward keeping its own character, though so similarly decorated. It must have been interesting, and a source of keen pleasure to any onlooker, to observe how the differences in the aspect of the various wards indicated the varying tastes of the respective Sisters.

Christmas Eve is always a hard day in every hospital, and ours was no exception. But, heavy though the work had been, it had not damped the ardour of our nursing staff. When nine o'clock struck a procession appeared. The sisters, nurses, and some orderlies, each with a lighted Chinese lantern suspended from a cane, toured the wards singing carols. It was a most effective sight as the stream of variegated lights wound in and out of the darkened wards and corridors, and the refrain from the carols was very appealing - one caught wafts of the music as the procession wended round corners, and in and out of doors, loud at first, and growing softer and softer as the singers withdrew to the more distant parts of the hospital. The patients were all very interested, and many joined in the carols. It was striking to watch the varied expressions on the faces as the procession proceeded through each ward. A good many of the wounded had never been in a hospital before, and thought it very lovely; others were thinking of home and their loved ones far away; they wore a look of thankfulness that they were spending Christmas in England again - albeit wounded - surrounded by comfort and consideration on every side.

The carol singers' procession returned in due course to the front entrance and lined up on either side of the corridor which leads to the C.O.'s office. Raising their lanterns, they formed an illuminated archway, under which the C.O. and the Matron passed. The C.O. then gave us his good wishes and expressed the hope that we should all have a happy time in spite of the severe strain which our work involved. After giving a hearty cheer both for him and for the Matron, we all proceeded to the Recreation Room, where steaming hot soup and mince pies were distributed - and taken with alacrity. The company then dispersed, to rest before the toils of Christmas Day, though all seemed to forget that they had any cause for weariness in the extra work which they had been doing, and only wished to make sure that they would be fresh enough on the morrow to give the patients a happy time.

E. M. NORTHOVER

Things We May Hope to See ...

... If the War lasts till next Christmas (2)

Things We May Hope to See ...

... If the War lasts till next Christmas (1)

[Although not signed, this page, and the one that follows are undoubtedly the work of Pte. Stephen Baghot de la Bere]

A Tea-Fight

Winter 1915-1916

A Short Impression by the Matron, of the Party on Friday, November 12th

First thing in the morning the Receiving Hall was cleared of all the beds, and then we began to collect tables and forms from the wards. Very soon the Hall was transformed into a big café; lines of tables up and across the Hall, all of which were decorated by plants and flags, until the whole place was a mass of colour.

Long before tea-time the men began to come trooping in; and in a very short time there was a big buzzing tea-party. All the stretcher and wheeled-chair cases went round to the Recreation Room, and had tea given them there by many willing hands. The boys from Dr. Barnardo's Home played from the balcony, the men joining in the songs they knew, whistling and singing as they ate the many good things provided for them by our good friend Mr. Howard Williams. When everyone had eaten until it was impossible to eat any more we cleared the Hall, and many of us helped to get out the tables and rearrange the room for the concert. In a surprisingly short time the men were all back in their seats listening to one of the finest concerts we have ever had. By this time our Queen Amélie had come, and I am sure everyone was glad to see Her Majesty back again; she has become 'one of us,' and we all love her dearly.

I went up to the gallery and looked down on a blaze of colour. The men's blue coats, the scarlet jackets (which they ought to leave in the ward, and I never have strength of character enough to say they must, because they look so attractive), with patches of white here and there where the Sisters were sitting, struck one as so wonderful. A perfect volley of sound came up, and I can now hear
'Never-the-less I want to go back'
sung as if there were no trouble in the world, as if war with all its horrors did not exist; and one felt with a great thankfulness that Hospital was indeed a happy place - perhaps the only one at the moment, when all around is misery and suffering. Song followed song - several old favourites being cheered again and again - till at last the end came and we sang 'God Save the King.' After the C.O. had called for cheers for our Royal Family, we all gave three very special ones for Queen Amélie. We also had the opportunity of welcoming the Australian Nurses, who arrived in the middle of the afternoon, having come to work in our hospital. Many of them, I was glad to see, stayed for the concert.

Then the men began to file out and go home to bed - just like children tired out after a party - whistling and singing - and I felt, tired out as I was after a very hard day, that nothing is a trouble 'as long as we 'ave the 'eart.'

EDITH HOLDEN

First Impressions of Night Duty

Winter 1915-1916

By a Girl Orderly

My first and most lasting impression was the Dark; an awful and overwhelming darkness, pierced at rare intervals by distant, faintly-gleaming lights, which swayed in the breeze, but always kept their distance. It was my luck to have the nurse from my ward called away, and for what seemed like endless ages I sat alone in the one small oasis of light in a ward that appeared to be of interminable length surrounded by an unknown number of equally unknown patients. Suppose anything happened; haemorrhage - fits - and it really did sound as though the man snoring on my left would choke that very next minute! What were those hosts of unattached, unaccounted-for sounds; stealthy footsteps that came so far, and stopped - where? Sighs, groans, and thuds that might mean nothing or anything! The 'silent night' seemed a thing of imagination only ... And in the midst of these ridiculous, but at the moment very real, horrors, Salvation appeared in the form of the orderly officer - to whom I am eternally grateful for effectually breaking the spell.

One more impression is the immensity of the distance 'from one given spot to another.' On that memorable night I went with a message to Night Sister's office - 'just down the corridor and round to the left' - and by the time I'd got 'just down the corridor' I hardly knew which was left or right! I gingerly turned the corner and wandered on for about another couple of miles down what felt like a tube tunnel - on and ever onward towards a faint ray of light ... which marked the beginning of another corridor! Having walked for hours - more or less - I was finally fortunate enough to meet one of that rare and elusive species, a male orderly, who nobly showed me my destination and set me on my homeward way.

These, of course, are only very first impressions. Having since developed the eyes of a cat and an instinctive feeling of ' 'ware mat!' in my feet - night duty is really great. but I should like to know if the day orderlies strew the corridors with bath-chairs, trolleys, and stretchers especially for my benefit!