BARNFATHER: Norway 1940
Norway, 1940
The weather was sunny as we left the land behind, but very cold. The sea was calm so we spent as much time as possible on deck enjoying the sunshine. Food was varied and plentiful compared with what we had been accustomed to having in England with food rationing in force. In fact, it would have been very easy to imagine we were on a peace time cruise except for our uniforms. Quite suddenly the sea’s motion changed as her engines stopped. The ensuing silence could be felt. After a few minutes wondering, we carried on enjoying the sunshine. Sometime past, suddenly, the welcome throb of the engines could be heard and we were on our way again. Later, we were told why we had been delayed and we felt rather subdued and thankful. A German submarine had been lurking in the path of the ship but it had been dispatched by the ever watchful Royal Navy.
At last the commanding officer had opened his secret orders and was able to tell us that our destination was Norway and we were part of the North West Expeditionary Force. The remainder of the journey passed quickly and uneventfully apart from the issue of Arctic kit to all personnel. This proved to be quite funny. The kit issued to the medical officers was precisely the same as that issue to us nurses. Obviously the quartermaster at the issuing depot had not been told that there would be some female army requiring Arctic kit. There was no choice so we made the most of it thinking that later on in Norway we would be very glad of it. We managed to obtain the smallest sizes and when dressed up we all looked very much alike except for little Miss Kitch who was about 5 feet nothing. When she put on her Arctic kit, it looked exactly as if an overcoat topped by a tin hat was gliding along of its own volition.
We arrived at Haarstadt, a small busy port on the West Coast of Norway. The "Monarch" was too cumbersome to steam into the quayside so we were all taken ashore on a small Royal Navy vessel, H.M.S. “Electra". Her officers were extremely surprised to see English girls in this part of the world and they gave us a great welcome. One of them gave me one of his precious handkerchiefs and each officer signed his name on it. "Electra" was on patrol in northern waters. Included in that patrol was the headland on which stood the school building in which we were billeted. (Whenever "Electra" rounded that point someone on board would signal us and send greetings.) We were driven from Haarstadt along a country road to another village, very small indeed. (Its name was Trondeness, and we were to live in the school on the headland for awhile.) Deep, deep snow lay everywhere, deeper than any of us had ever seen before. In the distance we could see two snow clad mountains reaching upwards as if to thrust their peaks into the lowering clouds. These clouds seemed forever to be about to drop their burden of snow. Our temporary home stood on a high headland below which the sea boiled and crashed on the rocks a long way below.
Life in the school was a nightmare compared with life on the "Monarch" and we all hoped we would not have to endure it for long. The daily menu consisted of "McConachie" and hard tack – canned meet and vegetable stew and ships biscuits. Those biscuits surely must have been relics from World War I. Later we did have a change to bully beef and rice. Fortunately, there was always the chance of a brew up, a mug of tea, without which no British soldier could exist. The bathroom boasted a long row of wash bowls facing a similar row of toilets, all bolted to the stone floor. The water in the wash bowls was cold so when we wanted any hot we put a tin bowl of water on top of our “Beatrice" stoves in the morning, by evening time it was warm. A "Beatrice "stove was a small oil burning stove and part of our camp kit. Preparing for bed was quite a business. The beds were wooden bunk style with a mattress. It was so cold we went to bed wearing warm pyjamas, bed socks, woolly sweater and woolly cap and gloves. Then we climbed into our Arctic issue sleeping bags plus army blankets. To ensure sound sleep our batman brought us each a hot water bottle and a mug of steaming hot cocoa. He deserved a medal. By day we used to go down to Haarstadt which was quite an attractive little town on the waterfront which we enjoyed exploring. We found a very nice little café where we used to go as often as we were in town. We showed the waitresses how to make tea, English fashion. One morning one of our girls was having her hair set at the local hairdressers when the air raid siren went. Everybody dashed for shelter including Kathleen complete with curlers. Taking shelter was very necessary as there were troop ships and ammunition ships being unloaded at the time. Between Haarstadt and Trondeness there were a few houses, most of the countryside consisting of fields. One morning we were walking along the road when a German plane buzzed us and we immediately fell flat on the ground. Before the plane could circle back, we were called into a nearby house and urged to take shelter in the seller along with the Norwegian owners and their cattle and other livestock.
We found our way to a hilly area where there was quite a steep slope and there the Australian girls in the unit tried out their newly purchased skis. The rest of us contented ourselves with tobogganing. Some days was sunny and fairly bright, but others were dull and without any sunshine. On these days we were obliged to wear our snow goggles as the glare from the snow was extremely dangerous to the eyesight. One day there was a blizzard, an awesome sight with a gale blowing and swirling the snow in all directions. There was a complete white-out. In such conditions, indoors was the safest and most pleasant place to be.
One day a small British hospital was disembarked and set up between Haarstadt and Trondeness. This told us we would be moving soon. Sure enough the C.O. received movement orders for our unit, and a few days later we set off at midnight. We embarked in a small fishing boat which put-putted noisy along the fjiord. That journey was somewhat eerie. Dead of night and still, the water dark and oily as it flowed between black and forbidding mountains. Daylight scarcely gone and the only visible movement the faint swish of the water at the prow as the little boat arrowed her way forward. I think we all felt a little apprehensive. So few of us in a cold strange land, not knowing where we were going and not knowing where the enemy might be lurking. We had no choice but to put our trust in this strange man who was piloting his little boat.
When we reached Taarstad where we were to set up our unit, we breathed a sigh of relief. We were taken to a charming Norwegian house which was to be our accommodation for at least the next few days. It was warm and comfortable. Even our our menu was slightly increased. Fresh bread was added. There was no chance for us to explore. We had to set two immediately and organise the unit ready to accept casualties from the expected clash with the enemy. For security reasons we set up the unit in five small buildings or within reasonable distance of each other. One building housed the operating theatre and another the few beds we had plus some stretchers on trestles. These were to accommodate the most seriously wounded. The remaining buildings had stretchers on the ground. Equipment was adequate but not elaborate and was dispensed from wicker paniers. Drinking water was carried in special containers and drunk from enamel mugs.
I was scheduled for night duty with one of the Australian girls so we had to move to another house. Night duty lasted from 8 p.m. to 8 a.m.
The first convoy of wounded arrived from the battle of Narvik. They were brought in just before midnight on our first night on duty. They had been brought down the nearby field on a hospital carrier and transferred to our station on wheel stretches. In the unit, the medical officers assessed the urgency of the wounds and then the patients were taken to the various wards. Each man had a special card attached to his uniform bearing all his personal details and a note of any treatment he had already received. Our job was to check these cards, attend to creature comforts and adjust dressings as necessary. Checking was not easy as all the patients were from the second Polish army, the French Chasseurs Alpins, the French Foreign Legion, a handful of Germans and a couple of Norwegian fishermen. I discovered one English man in the French Foreign Legion and I did not have a chance to ask him "why"? One older man, a German, died thanking God he was in a British hospital. It was necessary to segregate the French wounded from the Germans in order to prevent further casualties.
Each night we'd go on duty, only to find that all the casualties which we had dealt with the previous night, accepting the most seriously wounded, had been transferred to the base hospital. We were kept constantly busy with convoy arriving regularly. In fact so busy that it became necessary to have another surgical team sent up from base. It was strange working in a kind of twilight. Being so far north, it was never really dark.
The battle raged close enough to us to see the smoke and hear the guns. One day we saw the crippled destroyer "Aurora "limping slowly down the fjord to the open sea.
Fast asleep in bed after a very busy night I was awakened suddenly by an almighty crash. My instant reaction was to take shelter but I was only half awake and became hopelessly and tangled with my sleeping bag and my camp stretcher. By the time I had sorted myself out, the danger had passed. The commotion was caused by the destroyer lying in the nearby fjord firing at a German plane. That destroyer was there for our protection. He missed.
The only war news we received was from Oslo and always seemed in the German favour. Mail was extremely scarce and we began to feel a little bit forgotten.
Some mornings after duty, I would go for a drive with our quartermaster to pick up Russians and other stores. In this way, I was able to see something of the lovely countryside. It looked especially beautiful with its mantle of snow, I couldn't help wondering how it would look without and would we be here to see the change.
Quite suddenly one day we nurses were told to pack up and standby for further orders. No explanation given. I went on duty at night as usual but wearing my outdoor uniform over which I wore at theatre gown. The usual convoy arrived but we had attended to only a few of the casualties when we were told to go over to the Mess and join the other girls and wait. Eventually we were embarked on a very primitive style of hospital carrier along with all the wounded who were fit enough to travel. When we reached Haarstadt, the patients were transferred to the base hospital and we nurses to Trondeness. There we saw flowers and grass growing around the school where previously there had been snow, deep, deep snow. There were gardens and fences belonging to the houses, and where we had skied and toboggan was now a huge lake. It was incredible. Again a spell of waiting and wondering, all part of Army life.
At last, the waiting was over. We were taken down to the quayside at Haarstadt and then embarked on the hospital ship "Aba" which was already loaded with casualties and ready to move off. Again the inevitable question where? We presumed we would follow the blood bank north. Not so. After twenty-four hours at sea, we learned that our destination was England via the north of Scotland. This route would take us longer than how we crossed by the normal route across the North Sea but was deemed safer. It's so happened that we were held up in Scapa Flow. A German U-boat was skulking about there and we had to wait until it was dispatched by the Royal Navy. Those hours of enforced waiting were very fraught for all of us on board. Our orders in the event of an emergency were "Sisters first" and we hated that idea. The majority of the patients were badly wounded and many were encased in plaster of Paris. Their chances of survival would have been very poor indeed. Thanks be to God there weren't any emergencies and we all reached Liverpool safely. Although there was a full complement of nurses on board the “Aba” we helped with the care of the patient, chiefly because several of the Staff became seasick and were unable to work for a few days. Nursing on board the hospital ship was very different from nursing with a casualty clearing station and we enjoyed the experience.
Weather was very, very hot when we reached the Liverpool and entrained for London. How we the civilian women in their summer dresses. We were wearing winter kit.
It was only after reaching England that we began to understand the meaning of "Dunkirk" and all that it entailed. Leave was given to us all and extended until the chaos of Dunkirk had been resolved as far as possible. A great many events had taken place whilst we were with the North West Expeditionary Force. An immense amount of reorganising had to be done by the powers that be and in the meantime, patience and more patience must be observed.
After two or three weeks, I learned that all the men of our little unit had reached England safely. Unfortunately, they lost all their personal belongings as well as most of their army gear. They had been told to leave everything at their billets as on a normal working day. They wandered unobtrusively down to the dockside and embarked on several small boats which were waiting for them and set off for England. I also learned that all our medical and any other stores had been completely destroyed before the enemy could lay hands on them.
