When they arrived back at the dining hall they were presented with a feast. There were bowls of sugar and jugs of milk and butter on every table. Back home, tea was limited to four ounces a week, but there was no shortage on the Strathnaver. No dry toast here, Madge thought. She couldn’t remember the last time she had had a tasty, thick bacon sandwich because rationing meant that adults were allowed just four ounces each per week, along with one fresh egg. On the Strathnaver there were even sausages to go with as many slices of bacon as you fancied!
As they tucked in to the breakfast feast, Madge said, ‘You know what I couldn’t believe? That after all that lovely food last night, the tomato soup and the roast beef and those tasty roast potatoes, they brought round bananas!’ Vera chuckled at this. ‘I had to look twice at them,’ said Madge. ‘I hadn’t actually seen a banana since I was a child, let alone eaten one. In fact, I could barely remember what they tasted like. But now I do remember – they’re delicious!’
Once breakfast was over, she spotted a noticeboard in the corner of the dining hall. On it was a note that all mail had to be in the post box by 11.30 a.m. as the ship was due to set sail that evening. Madge dropped the letter she’d written the night before into the wooden box and wondered when she’d next be able to send word home. Then she followed the swarm of VADs as they went to the Ladies’ Lounge, which looked like the inside of a great English country house she had once seen in a magazine. Gentle pastel blue curtains were set against cream and pink coloured walls that featured elegant swans on a lake. Mahogany-coloured tables were in vivid contrast to a herringboned parquet floor. The girls began chatting to while away the time, but Madge could barely focus on what they were saying. She was too busy looking around in awe.
Next, all 250 nurses were ordered to assemble on A Deck, where group Commandant, Miss Corsar, gave a short but entertaining welcome address and underlined the dos and don’ts of life on board the one-time liner that would be their home for the next five weeks.
‘Some of you must be wondering,’ she said, ‘about the guards outside your cabin doors. There is no need for the slightest concern. They’re not there to keep you ladies in. Their job is to keep the men out!’
Madge soon found out why exercise gear had been included on the equipment list as the next day all VADs were required to take self-defence classes, which were provided in case they came into contact with the enemy, but Madge couldn’t help but remember Commandant Corsar’s comments the previous day, especially when she noticed that soldiers were all too keen to volunteer to lend a hand. The girls were shown how to blind an assailant by jabbing their fingers deep into eye sockets, thrusting knees as hard as they could into testicles and jabbing with elbows if they were attacked from behind.
‘Pay close attention, girls,’ said the burly army instructor at the end of the incredibly tiring session, ‘you just might learn something that will save your lives one day.’
They were flipped onto their backs, sent crashing face first into mats, grabbed from behind and squeezed in ferocious bear hugs.
Word quickly spread that there was a shop on board the Strathnaver and, best of all, that there was no rationing. As soon as she finished her first self-defence class, Madge was off like a shot to buy Coty face cream, Yardley shampoo, Johnson’s baby powder and a great big packet of sweets.
The air of relaxation on board the ship turned to intense activity the following day, however, as tenders buzzed to and from the Gourock quayside to transport last-minute supplies and personnel. From grubby old freighters to elegant one-time cruise liners, there were dozens of boats waiting for the hours of darkness. As Madge watched the evening sun setting over the Scottish hills the huge guns on the foredeck of a battleship just a few hundred yards away captured her gaze. She found it hard to tear her eyes away; the guns were a stark reminder of the dangers they faced.
That evening was the last time she would be allowed on deck without a life jacket. Miss Corsar had just issued the first warning to the VADs that jackets must be worn at all times when on deck, a rule that officers in charge of boat drill were only too keen to reiterate. Madge had heard that they’d even confined a couple of the girls to their cabins for an afternoon!
Evening fell and the turbo generators and electric motors of the Strathnaver began to hum. After dinner, Madge retired to the girls’ cabin. Portholes had to be covered at night meaning she wouldn’t be able to see a thing once the voyage began so she put her life jacket back on and returned to the deck for a final glimpse of her homeland. I may never see Doris, Doreen and Mum again, she realised. Tears welled over and she carefully made her way through the moonless night back down to where her three cabin mates were already fast asleep.
A few minutes later, the twin anchors rumbled and grumbled as the Strathnaver began to ease away from her mooring. The noise slowly increased and the 22,238-ton vessel began the month-long voyage to Bombay. This is it, Madge thought to herself, feeling the ship easing away from port. This is where my new life begins.
7
Passage to India
Boat drill on the first day with the Strathnaver moored off Gourock had been a relaxed affair that left many of the VADs in fits of laughter and exasperated army instructors shaking their heads in despair.
‘Excuse me, Mr Officer sir,’ a girl with a delightful West Country
