After many months of endless hard work at the hospital, often on the night shift, making it impossible for them to go out and have fun of an evening, the nurses were creating memories of a war-torn London that would last a lifetime. There was one little problem, however. Life was becoming very expensive all of a sudden and by Thursday morning Madge was down to her last few shillings. There was nothing for it but to make a trip to the bank in the hope that she could arrange for the Maidenhead branch to wire her last £11 to keep her going until the day of departure. What she would do if the money was not available did not bear thinking about.
‘I appreciate there are many reasons for getting us together in London for almost a week before we are due to leave,’ said Madge over breakfast. ‘I mean, boats could be sunk or railway lines could be destroyed by German bombers, but it’s certainly been an expensive few days.’
They were informed that they were going to be briefed that night by Miss Gertrude Corsar, the VAD Commandant and Chief Liaison Officer.
‘She’s the big boss so don’t be late under any circumstances,’ they were warned by one of the sisters.
‘Never mind the big boss bit, this briefing has all the makings of being one big bore,’ said another.
The girls grinned at one another. I wonder if we’ll be like that one day, Madge thought to herself, glancing at Vera and Phyl.
Far from being a bore, the softly spoken, Forfar-born Scot soon had the gathering, which included the group from the nearby Salvation Army hostel, listening intently.
‘I’m not sure,’ Miss Corsar said, ‘just how many of you know about our history. We were founded in 1909 with the help of the Red Cross and the Order of St John and by the outbreak of the Great War we had more than two and a half thousand members. Although initially the military authorities didn’t want our services on the front line, believing we would be surplus to requirements and even perhaps a hindrance, I am proud to say that time and again we proved them wrong.
‘When you arrive in India it is essential that the great traditions of British nursing are upheld and that your personal behaviour is beyond reproach.
‘Now we’ve got that out of the way,’ the Commandant continued, ‘let’s talk about the journey by sea that may take more than a month. I’ve been told that it can become a little tiresome so let me recommend one or two books to read. Firstly, any by Agatha Christie, plus Testament of Youth by Vera Brittain and National Velvet by Enid Bagnold. I’m recommending those books in particular because all three authors were VADs,’ she added.
‘I shall be travelling on the boat with you ladies and I shall be based in New Delhi, where my door will always be open to any of you, whatever type of problem you may have. Now, I know the delights of London are much more appealing than listening to me,’ she said, ‘so goodnight!’
Her invigorating little pep talk received a standing ovation from nurses who were reassured to know they would have somebody prepared to stand up for them in India.
‘Are we allowed one question?’ asked a voice from the back of the room.
‘Fire away,’ replied Miss Corsar.
‘When are we actually leaving?’
The reply brought the briefing to an uproarious and amusing end when Miss Corsar theatrically put her index finger across her lips, shook her head and smiled. ‘Walls have ears!’
‘That was one very likeable and impressive lady,’ said Madge as she headed to bed.
‘That she was,’ agreed Vera. ‘I wish I could be like her one day.’
The following morning got off to the finest of starts with a letter from Mum, packed with news of home, including an admission that she’d tried her best but failed to keep a straight face when sisters Doris and Doreen had been late home after the school dance, and, best of all, a confirmation that Madge’s £11 was on its way from the bank! Of course, Madge went straight to the Royal Opera House to celebrate. Pleasant as the day was, Madge was becoming increasingly frustrated over the total lack of information about exactly when the nurses’ ‘big day’ would be.
The sheer bliss of a lie-in meant that she missed breakfast on Friday morning but not the issue of smart, olive-coloured, felt-coated water bottles for use in India. Vera had made an early start and left Baker Street on the double so she could be at the City branch of her bank when it opened, but had phoned the girls to confirm she would be back at 2.30 p.m. After a late lunch in the mess the nurses went to see Buckingham Palace in the hope of catching a glimpse of a royal or two.
In the early years of the war, Buckingham Palace had suffered no fewer than nine direct hits in the murderous German air attacks. Madge and Vera agreed that it was very impressive that King George VI and Queen Elizabeth had turned down officials’ requests to move them to safety; like the rest of London, they refused to bend to the Blitz. A surprisingly large number of visitors had come to view the palace on the day Madge and Vera were there but they were unable to see the damage that had been inflicted by a doodlebug the previous month. Palace walls and a summer house had taken the full brunt of the explosion. Madge and Vera lingered for half an hour in the serenity of Green Park, knowing that just a few hours later, the peace would be shattered with the inevitable storm of V-1s.
Time was running short so the duo moved on to Constitution Hill before stopping for afternoon tea
