‘This is going to be a bit of a struggle,’ said Phyl as they approached the tenders, but there was certainly no shortage of helping hands!
‘Thanks. You’re such a gentleman,’ laughed Vera as a burly old boy virtually lifted her into the boat. As the tender taking a group that included Madge, Vera and Phyl chugged across the short distance from the mainland they could see that the portside bow and decks of the Strathnaver, 688 feet in length, were crammed with soldiers cheering and waving. The closer they got to the boat the more noise they made. The nurses had been loudly applauded by the dockers on the quayside but when they got closer to the troopship the noise was like being at a football match.
‘Mmm,’ said Vera, as she took a long, deep breath. ‘Thank goodness that train journey is over. This fresh air is wonderful.’
‘Well, it’s nice to see we’re welcome, even after fifteen hours on the train!’ Madge said, and blew a particularly handsome blond soldier a kiss.
As she joined the rest of the girls in waving, she instantly forgot the tiredness of that never-ending train journey on which they had been packed like sardines and instead concentrated on clambering aboard the troop carrier and up a very steep gangway.
A porter greeted them. ‘Welcome to the RMS Strathnaver, ladies. This way, please,’ he said, leading them down the corridor marked ‘First Class’.
Madge raised an eyebrow at Phyl. ‘This must be somebody’s idea of a joke.’ Just then, Vera squeezed past them. ‘What are you up to?’ Madge asked her.
‘Picking the best of the bunch,’ Vera said, as she almost ran down the corridor ahead of them.
A few twists and turns of the corridor later, and it seemed it was no joke at all. The catch was there would be ten girls to a cabin that usually accommodated two. The plush beds of yesteryear had been torn out and replaced with five sets of two-level bunks. Still, there was a porthole and the bedding looked comfortable enough even if the linoleum-covered floor was a little careworn. Unfortunately, all the cabins seemed to be full.
‘Maybe we won’t be able to bunk together after all,’ Madge said to Phyl, feeling suddenly quite worried.
‘Here!’ Vera’s head popped round the doorway. The Stoke Mandeville girls were lucky; Vera’s speed had paid off and she’d nabbed a single cabin in which there were just four bunks. For the next ten minutes the Stoke Mandeville trio actually thought they would have the cabin to themselves, until a weary-looking soul on the verge of tears knocked politely at the open cabin door.
‘Hi there. I don’t suppose there’s space for a little one in here, is there?’
‘Come in. Of course there is,’ said Madge. ‘I’m Madge, and my friends here are Phyl and Vera.’
‘I’m Sally, Sally Mallins. You’re so kind, thank you. I thought I was going to have to sleep in the corridor,’ said the newcomer.
‘The cabin may be smaller than a double,’ said Madge, ‘but we should be thanking our blessings there are just four of us sharing a bathroom instead of nine. And there is a bath, no less!’
She peered into the tiny room and picked up the soap which was labelled as being ‘suitable for saltwater’. A sign on the wall declared that there would be fresh water from the basin for one hour in the morning and evening.
‘I don’t know what we’ll do with our hair!’ Phyl declared.
‘Just to help you girls, I will very kindly delay washing my hair until that one hour in the evening,’ said a laughing Madge.
‘As I found this little haven in the first place, do you mind if I have a bottom bunk?’ asked Vera, who was trying to keep a straight face.
To avoid cluttering up the space completely, the girls unpacked only the bare minimum from their cabin cases. With one tiny cupboard and two drawers there was simply no other option.
The nurses may have drawn the short straw with third-class travel on the train journey up to Scotland, but they were in luxury on the boat in comparison to the majority of the men. The girls heard talk of how the lower ranks had been herded in their hundreds like cattle into cargo holds that had been converted into sleeping accommodation even more cramped than the VADs’.
Madge settled in to life on the boat by having her first ever bath in salt water. Then she went with Phyl, Vera and Sally to the 8.30 p.m. dinner sitting.
‘This is a bit late to eat, don’t you think?’ said Phyl. ‘Perhaps we should try the seven p.m. one tomorrow night?’
The other girls all nodded but none of them said a word. Their mouths were too full of food as they were all so hungry after the day’s excitement.
The four nurses wandered out on deck for a breath of air after dinner and Madge then wrote a letter to Mum and her sisters before tucking herself up in her bunk. She fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
For nearly three years, when on night duty at Stoke Mandeville, Madge had prepared breakfasts at 7 a.m., made tea for the ward, and helped bed-bound patients with their morning ablutions. The realisation that she had entered a very different world came when she awoke at 7 a.m. to a steward knocking ever so courteously at the cabin door.
‘Breakfast will be served in the dining room at eight
