Belfast, Northern Ireland
Laden with the usual equipment, we followed the English escorts down the gangplank, off the dock to a nearby street where trucks were awaiting us. So our first look at Belfast was from the back of a two and a half ton truck - the left hand drive, double decked trolleys, WRENs cycling by, the unbelievable number of "prams" and the rosy-cheeked children so scantily clad. Jolting along the cobblestones, we all guessed at our fate. Concensus of opinion was that our new homes would be pup tents, but to our surprise we found, upon reaching the area that was to be Headquarters, that we were to live in vacated private homes. There were four of those houses, one of which served as nursing headquarters and mess hall (which later was also used by nurses of the 103rd Evac Hosp) and housed 12 of the nurses. we were divided alphabetically and marched from the main Headquarters area to our respective homes.
It proved to be the residential section of Belfast and we were the first nurses in Knockdone Park. Each home had its hedge and immaculate lawn; even the crocuses and daffodils were in bloom! In the house that were chosen for us there was nothing there but the specified number of Army cots, anywhere from 2 to 8 in a room. Each room had a fireplace, lit for our arrival, so gratifying and heartening. Little did we know then what a source of annoyance those out-moded tiny, draftless, heatless, smokey holes in the wall would turn out to be.
It got to be a vicious circle. We'd get provoked at ourselves for getting out of patience at an inanimate object. First, no fuel; we'd comb the yard for something to burn, which eventually led to the disappearance of the floor and one wall of a nearby garage. When the fuel did arrive, it was almost always wet, the non-burning Egnlish kind. Never we actually warm. As time went by, nurses livened the quarters with ivy in the windows, bright blankets for spreads over their cots, although any color soon became drab from the previously mentioned heating system. Hot water was nil, except for what we could heat in No. 10 cans during the first part of our stay; however, after a while, the local plumbers came through and managed to fix the heating units to the water tanks in two of the houses. The nurses in the unit managed to keep the rule, "Cleanliness is next to Godliness" through the courtesy of the Red Cross Officer's Club in downtown Belfast where there was an abundance of hot water available at all times.
Food, after the first awful week of Spam and black bread, slowly improved. For half the nurses who had never seen maneuvers, the novelty of the mess gear soon wore off. The mess hall, bleak and cold as everywhere else, was a two room affair with crude tables and benches.
The second week there we started basic training which lapsed into a routine of compulsory breakfast, out by 8 o'clock for calisthenics and drill in all it varieties, to the amusement of the civilians who stopped along the sidewalks and hung out of windows of the nearby houses to watch the nurses "play soldier". The "playing soldier" soon stopped because of the excellent coaching of two of our male officers. The nurses soon developed into a well-trained group.
The followed the prescribed POM Classes. Nurses and officers held combined classes in one or the other of the two church halls which had been offered by the residents of the "Knockdene Park". The afternoon was usually devoted to road marches, rain or shine. We soon learned the truth of Ernie Pyle's statement, "When you see the hills of Ireland, it is going to rain; when you don't, it is", but it certainly painted a verdant landscape to hike about. On some marches, there was a destination; on one occasion it was the Parliament Building, where a 10-minute break was devoted to listening to a session on "Why the Irish should improve the water supply in some communities where the only source was the town pump." Another afternoon was spent visiting an airfield of the RAF.
With the sudden transition to field shoes and long hikes, foot complications were inevitable. Also common to all was the "North Ireland hack" - there was shaking the cough. Almost all the nurses lost some time confined to quarters ad at least six were hospitalized. We learned that this particular cough was SOP - it would "carry on" for 3-4 months and then it would gone - never to return.
Recreation here was no problem. Belfast was a ten minute ride away. In one of the hutments, an Officer's Club was formed. Each Sunday something special was planned (our only free day). There were sight-seeing trips to Port Rush; Downpatrick and similar places. Through the churches in the neighborhood we met many of the local people and were often invited to tea at their homes.
When May 9th came, we were ready for a change. At the crack of dawn we all gathered at the Headquarters area for doughnuts and coffee. We rode in two and a half ton trucks from the area to the prt and the S.S. Goethals. After the dismal trip on the Susan B. Anthony (which was sunk on D-Day) we lost our hearts to this new and luxurious ship. The personnell of the Goethals were very kind to us. Here we were in cabins with only 5 nurses at the most in each cabin, adjoining bath, dining room with silver, linen and even a choice of foods - fresh eggs and even white bread- it was sad to think we only had one night aboard.
Laden with the usual equipment, we followed the English escorts down the gangplank, off the dock to a nearby street where trucks were awaiting us. So our first look at Belfast was from the back of a two and a half ton truck - the left hand drive, double decked trolleys, WRENs cycling by, the unbelievable number of "prams" and the rosy-cheeked children so scantily clad. Jolting along the cobblestones, we all guessed at our fate. Concensus of opinion was that our new homes would be pup tents, but to our surprise we found, upon reaching the area that was to be Headquarters, that we were to live in vacated private homes. There were four of those houses, one of which served as nursing headquarters and mess hall (which later was also used by nurses of the 103rd Evac Hosp) and housed 12 of the nurses. we were divided alphabetically and marched from the main Headquarters area to our respective homes.
It proved to be the residential section of Belfast and we were the first nurses in Knockdone Park. Each home had its hedge and immaculate lawn; even the crocuses and daffodils were in bloom! In the house that were chosen for us there was nothing there but the specified number of Army cots, anywhere from 2 to 8 in a room. Each room had a fireplace, lit for our arrival, so gratifying and heartening. Little did we know then what a source of annoyance those out-moded tiny, draftless, heatless, smokey holes in the wall would turn out to be.
It got to be a vicious circle. We'd get provoked at ourselves for getting out of patience at an inanimate object. First, no fuel; we'd comb the yard for something to burn, which eventually led to the disappearance of the floor and one wall of a nearby garage. When the fuel did arrive, it was almost always wet, the non-burning Egnlish kind. Never we actually warm. As time went by, nurses livened the quarters with ivy in the windows, bright blankets for spreads over their cots, although any color soon became drab from the previously mentioned heating system. Hot water was nil, except for what we could heat in No. 10 cans during the first part of our stay; however, after a while, the local plumbers came through and managed to fix the heating units to the water tanks in two of the houses. The nurses in the unit managed to keep the rule, "Cleanliness is next to Godliness" through the courtesy of the Red Cross Officer's Club in downtown Belfast where there was an abundance of hot water available at all times.
Food, after the first awful week of Spam and black bread, slowly improved. For half the nurses who had never seen maneuvers, the novelty of the mess gear soon wore off. The mess hall, bleak and cold as everywhere else, was a two room affair with crude tables and benches.
The second week there we started basic training which lapsed into a routine of compulsory breakfast, out by 8 o'clock for calisthenics and drill in all it varieties, to the amusement of the civilians who stopped along the sidewalks and hung out of windows of the nearby houses to watch the nurses "play soldier". The "playing soldier" soon stopped because of the excellent coaching of two of our male officers. The nurses soon developed into a well-trained group.
The followed the prescribed POM Classes. Nurses and officers held combined classes in one or the other of the two church halls which had been offered by the residents of the "Knockdene Park". The afternoon was usually devoted to road marches, rain or shine. We soon learned the truth of Ernie Pyle's statement, "When you see the hills of Ireland, it is going to rain; when you don't, it is", but it certainly painted a verdant landscape to hike about. On some marches, there was a destination; on one occasion it was the Parliament Building, where a 10-minute break was devoted to listening to a session on "Why the Irish should improve the water supply in some communities where the only source was the town pump." Another afternoon was spent visiting an airfield of the RAF.
With the sudden transition to field shoes and long hikes, foot complications were inevitable. Also common to all was the "North Ireland hack" - there was shaking the cough. Almost all the nurses lost some time confined to quarters ad at least six were hospitalized. We learned that this particular cough was SOP - it would "carry on" for 3-4 months and then it would gone - never to return.
Recreation here was no problem. Belfast was a ten minute ride away. In one of the hutments, an Officer's Club was formed. Each Sunday something special was planned (our only free day). There were sight-seeing trips to Port Rush; Downpatrick and similar places. Through the churches in the neighborhood we met many of the local people and were often invited to tea at their homes.
When May 9th came, we were ready for a change. At the crack of dawn we all gathered at the Headquarters area for doughnuts and coffee. We rode in two and a half ton trucks from the area to the prt and the S.S. Goethals. After the dismal trip on the Susan B. Anthony (which was sunk on D-Day) we lost our hearts to this new and luxurious ship. The personnell of the Goethals were very kind to us. Here we were in cabins with only 5 nurses at the most in each cabin, adjoining bath, dining room with silver, linen and even a choice of foods - fresh eggs and even white bread- it was sad to think we only had one night aboard.