THE WOMAN’S PART.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXVII, Issue 1488, 21 December 1915, Page 4

THE WOMAN’S PART.

NEW ZEALAND NURSE AT THE FRONT. EXPERIENCES IN HOSPITAL. Writing to the Hawke’s Bay Herald, a correspondent says: We have had innumerable tetters from our soldiers giving accounts of the' lighting in which they have played so honourable a part, bu'h so far we have heard nothing from our nurses engaged in equally noble work. The attached letter, received from msdaughter, at Malta, who belongs to the V.A.D. (Voluntary Aid Department) of Ihe Red Cross, should interest, readers. ‘1 have seen nothing more likely to make our people realise the terrible sacrifices our incomparable soldiers arc making on our behalf,” states the correspondent, “or bow utterly insignificant even our best efforts really appear.’’ Tyne Hospital, Malta, September 15th, 1915. My Dearest Daddy.—l expect you are anxious to hear about my first nursing experience here. We arrived on our Hospital Ship live days ago, after a lovely voyage, j lie 215 girls on I ward were a very jolly crew, ana lull of hearty good health, and strength. We played cricket and other games hard all through the trip. On our arrival we went ashore in a tender, and were met by Lord -Methuen, the Governor, at the landing place. He shook hands with each of us. Roping one eye open tor his niece, who was with us. Then a matron, with two British officers to help her, spoke to ns and divided us into parties ol twenty and sent ns oil. We had manoeuvred in the first hatch- all who were palls getting together. Forty were selected lor tins hospital. After walking under huge stone archways, through a crowd ot Orientals, wo found a row of ambulance cars wailing us, and curiously enough, the one that 1 and my friends entered was the identical one presented by the Hawke’s Buy Club —a good omen, which cheered us up. The orderly in attendance took our letters and postcards, written on the ship, to he posted, and joy of joy, told us that all our correspondence henceforth would go free, we tiding on “Active Service.'/ The officers, in an audible whisper, told our eluiulfeur to “drive like It —1| and come hack for another butch.” He certainly carried out his instructions and wc soon found ourselves on the other side of the harbour, on a promontory, (be deep blue Mediterranean on either hand, where we can get all' the air there, is. The view from our hospital across the harbour is very beautiful. The two Hospital Ships are ahehored in front. We were met by a sweet-faced nurse—tired and over, worked looking—who .said how wlelcome we were, and so very very glad she was that we had come to help. We were given the sergeants’ diningroom to moss in, and put into the married officers’ quarters; you must know that this place lias, until recently, been used as a military barracks. While we were settling down, the matron came and looked at us, taking down our names. Then she chose six ol us to go on night duty at once. With our usual luck, we liuee girls were, taken. Night duty is much preferable, for it is much cooler, only unfortunately we went on then and there after a long travelling day, very hot, and having been up fate the night before when; I had been singing at a concert. Then we had been turned out, at 5 a.in. that morning, so 1 had been having about 29 hours straight on end. Agatha and myself were sent to Block l\ she being placed in charge of the lop floor, another sister in the middle, and myself on the bottom floor, so the senior nurse could keep an eye on each of us. The Army Nurse at first seemed prepared to dislike us, but she lias quitu come round and is a perfect dear. But oh 1 the work one has to do. One should never be vexed if people get a little snappy now and then, for it is a dreadfully hard and strenuous life. Nevertheless, whercever we have been, the Army Nurses have been most kind to us.

BRAVE PATIENTS. Well, niy first tusk was cutting up dressings and making drinks. Then I was taken round to see the men, some ol whom were cruelly mangled. One dear Australian, lad, who was lying out 011 a verandah, the nurse took me to, saying: “Come and see one ol my heroes. He lias had an arm and a leg fatten oil and is still smiling.” He told me his name was Trotter, and yesterday, to his great joy, ho was sent to England. Then 1 went lo the top ward, where lay three men under mosquito net l ing, cruelly w ounded, and the nigiit was terribly hot. though much cooler than in the daytime when tlie glare and heat was scorching. But I must go on telling about those poor soldiers. One, an Australian bushman, a huge fellow named Mac vie, had his patella shot away and the doctors are still trying to save the legs. Another, a British Tommy, had just had his leg amputated; it is terribly septic and ho surfers groat agony. The third was a New Zealander, very, very ill, but he brightened up so when 1 told him that 1 am a New Zealander also, it was his last smile, for, after tending him awhile, ho passed away in my arms, poor lad. w hile 1 held him up to get breath. His was a hopeless case from the first, as the lower portion of his spine had been shot away. It made me very unhappy—my first case —yet so thankful at being hero. Oh! one feels very deeply at the front. We have no time for rules and red tape as in the old piilitary hospitals. The needs arc too ma'ny and pressing. Everyone speaks so flatteringly of the Australians and Now Zealanders. The nurses simply love them. They are so brave ami such splendid patients. Whenever one sees u cheery face, even -under the most awful circumstances, we say: “Of course he is a New Zealander or Australian. ’’ 1 am so proud of them. My heart just heats and throbs with pride ami thankfulness, that 1 am able, and have the privilege of ministering to these noble /fellows. Oh ! it i)> splendid and terribly fine lo see them. Well, dear, I must not write any more in this strain, Jest stray tear-drops blot my ink. Emotion takes too much out. of one, when every drop of courage and energy is needed here. THE MAiHENO. Yesterday, to our great joy, the Hospital Shi)), our own splendid Malieno, came in, so wo three girls hired u little .Maltese boat and put oil. Esther had received a cable that morning that a wounded brother was on hoard. \\ e went all over the ship, through the operating theatre, which is just perfect. All the equipment, sheets, shirts, bedding and towels are so well made and of the very best material. I Knew some of th G nurses. The mem call them ad “sisters.” But sisters or nurses, they are all splendid women. Thu wounded ail speak so gratefully of our ship, and say she is worth her weight in gold a thousand limes. They asked me to tell all New Zealanders whose generosity had helped to fit her out, that it was like coming out of hell into Paradise, finding oneself on board. The doctors and nurses look just, ripping—fit and ready for any emergency. 1 am proud of that ship. We girls felt wo could jump over the moon. Well done, Nni Tireni! It was thought the ship was to go right on to England, lo the great, joy of the men mid sorrow of the nurses, who considered that she was more wanted here. However, she is now going right buck to the Dardanelles.

SERIOUS LEG WOUNDS. At midnight the ambulances began to roll in aim we nad to lly round gelling everything in readiness, and soon wc had a hundred wounded to look alter. -Many arc New Zealanders, but 1 haven’t had time to find out who they are, or if we have friends in common. One of the boys in my ward—we call them all “boys"—belonged to the North Auckland Regiment, the loth, and saw my dour cousin, Noel, killed; he was wounded at the same time, and told me all about the action. He says Noel was beloved by bis men, and that he used to go round all their tents and talk to them. 1/lease tell poor Edio her son did well and died a soldier’s death. 'This boy also comes from WJiungarei, and is named Mcßae. He is my pet patient, so gentle, and brave, and sucli a splendid man. The doctors are trying to save his leg. The femur was shot through, and the bone has died, the nurse tells me, which has made mo very miserable. Whenever 1 can get a spare moment I go to him. • But, alas 1 On visiting him this morning I found that amputation had taken place, and he is now very weak. It required all my fortitude to pull myself together, for, daddy, even the orderlies love that man. I pray ho may recover, but so many of the leg cases are going wrong. Well, I cannot write any more. It is now 7 a.m. and I must get breakfast, and go on duty again. Good-bye. Your little daughter is very, very glad she is here to try and do her best lor our dear New Zealand lads. Your loving K.A.M.