Part 16

The next morning I made a raid on the Red Cross Society and the "Absent Minded Beggar" people to beg for games, cards, books, tobacco, &c., for the men on the way home; and in a few hours' time they sent me on a splendid supply. Then it was "Ladies' Day" at the club, so I found time to run up to lunch with my brother there, and he had some old Kimberley friends also lunching with him. After that the troops were coming on board, so I had to go back to duty.

I was appointed Lady Superintendent for the voyage, and two more sisters were sent on to help us--also three Roman Catholic sisters who had been nursing in Bloemfontein, had a passage home on the _Canada_, and were to be "available for duty" if I wanted them.

The Cape Town people gave Lord Roberts a great send off on December 10th, and H.M.S. _Doris_ escorted us out to sea.

We have very comfortable cabins, and the Major (who is P.M.O. on board) invited Sister ---- and me to sit at his table in the saloon with four other officers, so we are well looked after.

A great many of the men are wounded, some of them going home for operations. We had twenty sent straight into the hospital before we sailed, and we soon began to fill up there and to get busy.

Before we reached St. Helena one poor fellow of the Yeomanry had died; he did not seem particularly bad when he came on board, but he came down to the hospital saying he felt "a bit queer"; his temperature was only 100°, but we admitted him at once, and he was evidently just beginning a relapse (enteric), and then he had a dreadful septic abscess and other complications, so we had to isolate him in a little cabin, to reach which we had to go past all the stables--there were several horses on board, including the charger poor Lieutenant Roberts was riding when he fell. He was so bad one evening that Sister ---- volunteered to sit up with him, but when I went to relieve her at 7 A.M. we could both see that he was dying, and Sister offered to stay so that I should not infect myself; but she looked so done up (she is a bad sailor) I thought she had had enough, and the other sisters could quite well manage the hospital, so I sent her to disinfect, and go to bed.

The poor man died about 10 A.M., and was buried in the afternoon, Lord Roberts and all his staff attending. I don't think anything is more solemn than a funeral at sea; the slow march out to the stern, and the service read, and then the engines stop, and there is such a hush when the constant beat of the screw ceases; next the little splash as the body, heavily weighted and sewn up in a blanket, slides into the sea, and then the mournful "Last Post" sounded: once more the engines start, and we all go back to our posts.

I did not put on a regular night sister except when there was special need; but we took it in turns to be responsible for a night at a time, and the responsible one stayed up till twelve, and then (if all was quiet) turned in, and was called again at 4 A.M. to take a look round; but if she was kept up much, we relieved her from duty for the next morning; we had very good orderlies, and we found this plan worked well.

XL

S.S. "CANADA" (nearing ST. HELENA, on return voyage to the CAPE), _January 1901_.

I am now on my way back to the Cape after sixteen days' leave in England; a rushing time, amid snow and sleet; but I must first tell you about the voyage home.

We reached St. Helena on December 16th, and Lord Roberts and nearly every one went ashore for a few hours. I did not go off as I was busy in the hospital. Several men were very ill with enteric, and one with double pneumonia; of course it was frightfully stuffy for them in the hospital, but Lord Roberts had most kindly said that we were to use part of the upper deck (that had been reserved for him and his family), if it would be any better for the men; so we rigged up a screen, and put two or three men, who seemed most in need of fresh air, up there, and they were so grateful.

There was always a good supply of ice, and the sterilised milk was good; one man (who was very ill) could not take it, but for him I was able to get fresh milk, as there were two cows on board. The "skoff" for the convalescents was excellent, and they were all delighted with the variety of food supplied by the company, after the sameness of the army rations. Both the ship's officers and the stewards were most kind in every way in helping me to get what I wanted for the men.

We had a spell of very hot weather between the 16th and the 21st, and on the 20th we had another sad death, a young St. John's Ambulance man, who was admitted on the 16th with acute rheumatism (he had had enteric in South Africa). It was my night on duty, and at 11.45 I did not think he seemed so well, and I found his temperature had run up to 105°, and his pulse was very bad; we did everything that was possible for the poor boy, but his temperature continued to rise and his heart to fail; he was dreadfully breathless, and it was so difficult to prop him up enough in the bunks; by 1 A.M. his temperature had reached 106.6°, and he knew that he was dying, and was able to tell me where to write to his mother. He died very soon after.

It was dreadfully sad for the other men, as, of course, they were all awake, and in such terribly close quarters--one man in the bunk above him, and two more close beside him; and it does seem such hard luck for these two men to have got through their time in South Africa and then to knock over just when they are nearing home.

A nice sergeant in a bunk near by saw that I was very much cut up about this poor boy, and said, "Never mind, Sister, no one could have done more for the poor lad to give him a chance than you have; but I know I have seen many men die on the battlefield, but it's a lot worse to see one die between decks here." Afterwards we carried him out to a small bathroom, and he was buried the next day.

I found one of the patients in the hospital was a Bart.'s student who had been serving at the front.

Both Lord and Lady Roberts took a great interest in the men, and Lord Roberts used to come up to me in the morning and ask how they had got through the night; and he would ask after the men who were especially ill by name: of course they were awfully pleased when I told them.

They both went round the hospital several times, and on Christmas Day they went down and shook hands with all the men in hospital, wishing them a happy day, and then they sent down a large sugared cake and some chocolate for the men who were well enough to enjoy it, and the very sick ones all had some champagne; the men appreciated it very much, and there was a great demand for envelopes to take "a bit of Bobs' cake home."

Many of the beautiful baskets of flowers that came on board for Lady Roberts at the different ports found their way down to the hospital, and the men especially treasured a beautiful Union Jack that came on board at Madeira, made of red geraniums and blue and white violets.

By the 22nd it had become cooler and rather damp, so all the men returned to the hospital (from the upper deck). On the 24th one of the officer patients had to have an anæsthetic for a slight operation on his arm; and I had a busy night in the hospital, as one man had a fit, and there were several enterics very ill.

On Christmas Day it was good to see about twenty officers and between forty and fifty men at the early Communion Service, and we also had a service in the hospital. The saloon was quite full for the morning services at 9.15 and at 10 A.M.--there were too many for all to attend one service.

Sister and I found two huge stockings on our plates at breakfast time, with all sorts of silly presents in them. We had a very pleasant day and a jolly dinner party at night.

We reached Madeira that evening, and did not leave again till 2 P.M. the next day, so I had a run ashore with some people in the morning. On the 28th we anchored at Gibraltar at 8.30 A.M., and the guns thundered out such a welcome to Lord Roberts! We stayed there till 1 P.M. the next day, and I again went ashore with some friends, and had a good look round the town.

Sir George White and his daughter came on board, and afterwards Lord and Lady Roberts went ashore.

We had fairly good weather all the way home, but after Gibraltar the ship was rather inclined to roll; the remark on the ship's log was "fresh to moderate gale, with confused (!) sea." Two of the sisters were rather bad, so the remaining sister and I had a busy time between the sick officers and the hospital; and, though neither of us was sea-sick, I can't say that we exactly enjoyed it when we had to sponge a bad typhoid in an upper berth (to reach whom we had to stand on a box, and have a man wedged in the gangway to hold our basin of water; never quite sure whether the next roll would not oblige him to pitch all the water over either us or our patient); and the daily syringing of the arm of the officer who had the operation was just about as much as I could stand on the rough days; so we were glad when the wind abated, and all the sisters could take their turn for night duty, &c.

Lord Roberts was awfully nice to me about having looked after the men on board, and he asked me whether I wanted anything he could help me with; so I told him I only wanted to be sure they would let me go back and do some more work, and not get sent to a home station; so he most kindly sent for his secretary, and asked him to write to the Director-General to say he would be obliged if my wishes on this point could be attended to. Was it not kind of him? If I had not been so surprised I should have asked to be allowed to work for the same Major again, but he was just chatting in such a kind, informal way on the deck, that I did not realise how much he could have helped me if I had thought to ask.

I saw the New Year in down in the hospital, and the stokers made such a noise to celebrate it, beating with their shovels, &c. Luckily, by then, all our patients were improving, though some of them were still very ill; all except the very sick ones were tremendously excited at the thought of getting home.

We were rather before our time, so, on the evening of January 1st, we had to anchor in Swanage Bay, and then arrived and anchored off Cowes the next morning at 10 A.M. It was freezing hard and bitterly cold, and we were all longing to get home; but in the afternoon Lord Roberts went ashore to be received by Queen Victoria at Osborne. He returned an Earl and a Knight of the Garter, and I believe the Queen handed him the V.C. won by his son at Colenso.

That night we anchored off Netley, and the cold was intense; we got up to Southampton at 9.30 A.M. on January 3rd, and such a crowd was there to welcome Lord Roberts. Of course it was some time before he got away and we could get our patients landed; but as soon as we got into dock some orderlies came on board from Netley with a good supply of fresh milk, which was much enjoyed in the hospital, and, eventually, we were thankful to see all the bad cases safely off to Netley--three of them had been so very ill, and several times we had thought they could not live to get home.

It is always a little sad saying good-bye to people you have got to know well on board ship, but not nearly so bad near home as out at the front.

We had orders to report ourselves at the War Office, and, after having cleared up the hospital, we were able to get away about 1 P.M.

The next day I called at the War Office, and presented Lord Roberts' letter, and was told that I should go back; they would let me know when--and then I went on leave.

On the 15th of January I had a wire to rejoin the ship for the return voyage on the 19th. It was bitterly cold all the time I was in England, and I had rather a rush to get some new uniform and other necessaries, to unpack and "sort myself," and repack again.

When I got on board the _Canada_ I was rejoiced to find that Sister ---- was returning too, and three of our original medical officers.

The ship was very full (122 in the saloon), and there were sixteen sisters and one other lady; but my old friend, the stewardess, was kind enough to manoeuvre so that I got a small cabin to myself.

Just before we got away the _Manhattan_ backed into our stern, and sent us first with such a bang against the wharf, that the people standing there fell down flat like ninepins (and it was raining, so there were inches of mud for them to fall into!); and then we broke away from our moorings, with some visitors and the embarkation officers still on board. After a little excitement they managed to anchor off Netley, and found our damage was chiefly to the boat deck (one boat was stove in) and the railings--it would have been more serious if our steam had not been up and ready for us to get away, so they were able to get her under control at once--but there we had to remain all the next day repairing, and it was very tantalising having to waste that time on board, especially as I have some relations who live within a couple of miles of where we were anchored.

Before we sailed we heard that the Queen was very ill, and I fear she has been very feeble lately, and very much troubled about the war; so we all feel anxious, and every night when the band plays "God Save the Queen," and all stand at the salute, we wonder how she is.

XLI

S.S. "VICTORIAN" (between CAPE TOWN and DURBAN), _February 1901_.

Just as we got in sight of St. Helena on February 2nd our engines broke down, and we had to lay to for some hours while they were being repaired.

Then, as we steamed slowly up to the anchorage, H.M.S. _Thetis_ signalled to us that our Queen had died on January 22nd; so we ought to have been singing "God Save the _King_" for the past eleven days.

The men were all joking and playing games, &c., when the news came, and then there was such a hush of sorrow on the boat, and all the games were put away. We were at St. Helena all the next day while the repairs were going on. The _Mongolian_ arrived with 600 Boer prisoners, and last week they had 1300 from Simon's Town. Since we were last here some of the prisoners had made an attempt at escape, and they had also had a nasty mutiny amongst the men of the West Indian Regiment, who were stationed there.

We anchored in Table Bay, after a very uneventful voyage (with no work in the hospital, except five cases of German measles), on February 8th, but did not get alongside till the following evening; and then (as we were receiving fresh orders about every half hour) we stayed quietly on board till the 11th--when the _Canada_ was sailing again.

The only thing that was definite was that the medical officers and sisters who had been in Natal before were to return to that command, but how to get there was a different matter; the ship by which they proposed to send us by was not yet in, and it seemed likely that when the _Canada_ left we should remain on the wharf sitting on our boxes.

Sister ---- and I were the only sisters who had been in Natal before, so we saw the others off by train for Pretoria and Elandsfontein.

Then the _City of Vienna_ came in, and she was so full she could only just take on the medical officers, and Sister and I had to wait to go by some other boat; but we were told we could go out to Wynberg and lodge at the hospital till they could find berths for us, leaving our heavy baggage in store at the docks.

There we were kept waiting ten days for a ship, and had a very dull time of it, as we were afraid to go to any distance in case any sudden orders came for us.

Wynberg is a very pretty place in pine woods; but the huts were infested with creatures, so that sleep was difficult, and though we are neither of us very particular about our food, it was so badly served and dirty that we could not enjoy it.

I can't understand about the mess, as the sisters have to pay all their allowance of 21s. a week for food, and don't get anything like such good food as we had at a cost of 14s. or 15s. a week (though the actual cost of food is less at Cape Town), and they have no variety. There were some Pretoria sisters staying there to recruit after enteric, and I felt so sorry for them, as the food was absolutely unsuitable for convalescents; and they told me they had been very well cared for all the time they were ill at Pretoria, and so they were missing the careful feeding they had been used to.

Of course we did not get to know really very much about the hospital, as we were not on duty, and were only "lodgers," but a sister who came out with us was on duty, and was not at all happy; there were so many petty rules for the sisters that they seemed to spend their time in trying to evade them--not a good hospital tone.

We found no news at all in the Cape Town papers, but certainly the war does not seem likely to be over just yet; they say all civil traffic and mails north of De Aar have been stopped.

There was a rumour that there were Boers within thirty miles of Cape Town, so all the Boer prisoners were being sent away from Simon's Town. Some naval guns have been mounted on the "Lion's Head" (a part of Table Mountain), and the Town Guard were sent up there in watches, as well as some of the regulars.

The Town Guard were most energetic and constantly drilling. One day I wanted to speak to one of the Customs' men, and found they were all drilling with their rifles in the Customs' shed, and the Customs' business had to wait.

Then, of course, you will have heard there was plague in Cape Town, and there was some alarm lest it should get amongst the soldiers, and cripple us in that way; but they seem to be attacking it in an energetic way, and so far it is practically confined to the coloured people.

As usual it started among the rats on the South Arm at the docks; large numbers of them died, and the rest went off in a body to Green Point, at which place there is a large military camp, so that the sanitary officials were rather anxious.

Then the natives got frightened, and wanted to go home; but the Government stopped that by not allowing any of them to travel by train, except with special permits; this was partly to prevent their spreading the plague about the country, and also because it would have been difficult to get the dock work done if the natives had cleared.

At the same time a large native location is being built on the Cape flats (where they will all have to live), and a light railway to bring them into their work.

Rats are being bought for threepence each, and several hundreds of their bodies are being cremated daily at the gasworks.

At last we went into Cape Town and saw the P.M.O., but he said he could not say when we should get on; so we went on to our friend the embarkation officer, and told him that if there was no transport coming soon, we would pay our own passage to go up to Natal by a mailboat rather than waste more time at Wynberg; but he promised we should get a ship before the next mail and save our money, which we were glad enough to do; but my private opinion is that we should have been waiting at Wynberg still if we had not gone into Cape Town and agitated about it!

We paid a visit to the Yeomanry Hospital at Maitland, where a brother of Sister's was in as a patient (but getting better), and I found several old friends on the staff there.

At last, on the 20th, we received orders to join the _Victorian_ at Cape Town. It was pouring with rain, but Sister ---- went off at once to find a cab, while I hastily packed up, paid our mess bill, &c. Before she got back, there was a telephone message to tell us to hurry, as the ship was going soon; we bundled our things on to the cab, and just managed to catch a train at Wynberg, which (by good luck) was an express, as most of the trains loiter about at all the suburban stations.

At Cape Town we hastily cabbed to the P.M.O.'s office for orders, but were told to go straight down to the ship; at the dock gates I sent Sister on with our small things to the ship, to say we were coming, while I went to the agents, and was lucky in finding an empty trolley, and getting them to tumble our heavy baggage on to it, though they said it was too late for the _Victorian_, as she had been hooting for some time; however, I got on to the waggon and rattled down to the South Arm. There I found Sister ---- looking very melancholy, as they told her on board we were not expected, and there was no room for us, and "where were our written orders?"

Of course we _had_ no written orders, as all had been by telephone; but I did not mean to be left behind, so, taking my bag, and telling Sister to bring hers, I bundled up the gangway, which they were on the point of removing, and asked to see the C.O., telling them that I did not mind a bit if there was no cabin, but that we could travel on deck! Just then the embarkation officer came bustling along, and said that he had thought we could not get down in time, but that it was all right, and they had got to make room for us! So some soldiers soon carried our baggage on board, and as our last box came on the embarkation officer went off, and we were away.

The cabins were really all full, but, after some delay, two poor young officers had to double in with some others and give us their cabin.

The _Victorian_ is rather a grubby boat--a cattle-boat when she is at home. There are two hundred Boer prisoners on board, going up to a place near Ladysmith; four of them are officers, who are berthed on the upper deck, but don't mess with us. They seem quite a superior sort (one of them was a Commandant), and they are very polite to us, always ready to move our chairs, or to do anything to help us.

There are about twenty officers in the saloon, and one officer's wife.

The ship is not accustomed to having any ladies on board, but every one is very good to us, and the stewards are most attentive (there is no stewardess).

I sit next to the C.O., a Colonel from Australia, who had had a bad fall from his horse, and is going back to Australia for the voyage to recruit (this boat is going to take time-expired men from Durban to Australia, and will return with a full load of men and horses from there); he and his son have both been fighting out here.

Just lately he has been a patient in the hospital where we have been lodging, and he speaks very plainly about the bad management there, after he had been very well nursed in another hospital up-country.

There is a very pleasant, and very Irish, R.A.M.C. Major in medical charge. He has had a rough time trekking about with his regiment for the last fifteen months, and is now going for the trip to Australia to recruit after fever; he wants us to go with him, as they will probably send a couple of sisters, and we already have the promise of "a good time" in Australia while the ship is there; Sister says she would like to go, but I would like to see this show through first.

The officer's wife has been in her cabin sea-sick all the way, so we have had to look after her a bit. It has been a little rough, but even Sister ---- has kept well--we conclude because we had been doing a compulsory fast in consequence of the bad feeding at Wynberg before we came on board! We should have thought the feeding on this boat very poor after the _Canada_, but it is first rate after Wynberg.

We shall soon be at Durban now, and then they say we may have to be quarantined outside for ten days (on account of the plague at the Cape), but we hope our services may be so urgently required at the front that they may forget to quarantine us!

XLII

GENERAL HOSPITAL, NATAL, _March 1901_.

We arrived at Durban on February 23rd, and were eventually allowed to land without being quarantined.