Part 13

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I quite expected to be superseded by an Army Sister proper when the hospital was handed over, but the P.M.O. has asked me to "carry on" (which does not mean the same in the army as it does in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.

To get sufficient rations up daily for the men and horses was just about all the one rail could do, and when it was necessary to leave the railway line, the troops often had to wait weeks to scrape together rations to carry with them.

I believe the R.A.M.C. were well prepared for the probable number of wounded, but when unexpected sickness knocked the men over by the thousand, it is scarcely surprising that it was impossible to get up tents and all medical necessaries and comforts quickly enough.

I believe the sick and wounded are quite comfortable now in Bloemfontein; but no doubt there was suffering there, and the Commission will find out whether it might have been prevented.

There can have been little excuse for the bad management that is complained of at the base, and if that is proved, no doubt some one will get blamed for it.

I know the single-line railway on this side, that passes close to us, has been very hard worked night and day; at one time eight trains went up each day with water-tanks only, besides almost incessant trainloads of men, horses, mules, stores, &c.; the only wonder is that there have been so few accidents.

All the sisters have now had some leave, and as we have extra sisters here and very few bad cases, I am going to take a run up-country with a lady from here, and hope to tell you about that next time I write.

XXXIV

PINETOWN, NATAL, _August 1900_.

I must first of all tell you of my interesting few days up-country. I left here on the evening of the 20th of last month with Mrs. D. and her baby and a small Kaffir nursemaid; she was going to stay with friends who have a hotel and store at Colenso, and I had engaged a bed at this hotel, and took my saddle with me hoping to secure a horse there, and be able to explore the country around.

Two of our medical officers were going for a run up-country the same day, but as the train ran in two sections, I only saw them on the platform at Maritzburg late that evening.

At the same time I saw another officer in khaki looking at me, and then recognised in him a well-known London surgeon who is chief of another hospital out here--of course I was more used to seeing him in frockcoat and top-hat. He had his wife on the train, and as they also were going to Colenso, I was very glad to be able to be with them there.

The train rocked about so much (first crawling up a hill, and then tearing down the other side) that it was difficult to sleep, but the baby slept like an angel with the little Kaffir girl, safely deposited on the floor.

At 4.30 the next morning we arrived at Colenso. It was very cold and very dark, but Mr. Edwards (the hotel proprietor) met us, and with him we stumbled across the veldt to his hotel, which is just a one-storey shanty, as their house had been knocked to pieces by the Boers. Unfortunately he could not possibly take in my friends, so they had to stay at the station.

I was very glad to be able to tumble into a clean bed and have a good sleep, and by breakfast-time I was quite fresh again.

Then I was annoyed to find that I could not get a horse, as they were all engaged, and I had hoped to be able to ride to Ladysmith and to Spion Kop; however, I got on all right in the end.

That morning we climbed Hlangwane Hill, and saw some really wonderful Boer trenches; you absolutely can see no sign of them in broad daylight till you nearly walk into them.

Then we saw the place where Colonel Long lost his guns (the dead cavalry horses are still lying there); and where poor young Lieutenant Roberts was mortally wounded in trying to save them; and where Major Baptie, R.A.M.C., won his V.C.--I think by carrying Lieutenant Roberts into a donga and staying with him, and other wounded, all through that day of heavy firing, trying to keep them comfortable with some morphia he had with him.

We picked up as many pieces of shells and shrapnel as we could carry, and walked back along the banks of the Tugela.

I heard that a luggage train would be passing at 2.30 P.M., so I thought I would go into Ladysmith by that, and see whether there was any chance of getting out to Spion Kop from there. There are very few passenger trains now (except just the mails), so we are allowed to travel in any train that happens to stop, but of course they don't undertake to keep to any particular time.

Directly after lunch I strolled down to the station--no station-master or any official there, but I met a gentleman who told me that he had walked all the way out from Ladysmith, and was expecting to have to wait for the mail train to take him back, so he was very glad when I told him I knew the next goods train was going to stop there; he said his wife was in the waiting-room, so we walked along to find her, and soon I discovered she was Mrs. ----, Secretary of the Women's Patriotic League in Durban, whom I had not actually met before, but with whom I had had much pleasant correspondence, as they had been very kind in helping us.

So we trained in to Ladysmith together, and on the way they pointed out to me the remains of the great dam which the Boers made to try to flood Ladysmith out, also the neutral camp of Intombi; there is no hospital there now, only the cemetery, sadly full of graves.

They told me they were staying at the "Royal," and that people from there frequently drove out to Spion Kop; so I walked up with them and interviewed the manageress, who told me that a party of ladies had engaged a waggonette to drive out there next morning, and she thought I could easily secure a seat. Eventually I met these ladies, and found they were Durban people who had been over here to help at a concert for our men, so they were very kind and said I had better stay the night (as they had to start early in the morning) and dine with them.

I went out and wired to Colenso not to expect me back, bought a few necessaries, and then took a look round the town.

The hotel I was staying in had had a big shell right through, which had killed a man who was sitting in the hall, and the Town Hall had had a great piece knocked off the tower by one of Long Tom's shells.

Then I climbed up to the convent, which was used at first as officers' quarters, but had been tremendously knocked about by shells. The kind old sisters were very busy with workmen, patching up holes in the walls, &c.

Then I walked out to the cemetery, rather a long walk, and it was getting dusk, so I could not stay long; there were rows and rows of siege graves, and amongst many interesting names I saw those of the Earl of Ava and poor George Stevens of the _Daily Mail_.

It was quite dark when I got back to the hotel, and I was glad of dinner, and not sorry to go early to bed. It is eighteen miles out to Spion Kop, and they won't send a carriage there for less than £5, but for that sum you have four horses, and six people can go in the carriage; I had told the manageress that I would gladly pay £1 for a seat, but in the end I was not allowed to pay anything, as there were only four besides myself, and they had already arranged to pay the £5, and would not let me share.

We started at 6 A.M. with a black driver, and a small white boy to act as guide. Many of the horses that went through the siege have not yet recovered; one of ours was taken worse on the way, and we had to wait while the driver crushed up a nut between two stones and thrust it down the horse's throat, then it struggled on till we reached the kraal at the foot of the hill at 9 A.M., and outspanned. On the way we passed the place where Colonel Dick-Cunyngham was killed.

We had a bite of lunch, and then started with our small guide up the Thaba Inyama, one peak of which is "Spion Kop."