Not so for Vera and Phyl, who once again suffered the tummy-turning misery of seasickness. Instead of staying on deck and letting the fresh air work its magic the girls went down to their cabin which made them feel even worse. Madge reminded them that the best thing to do with seasickness was to look at the horizon, never the sea. But they didn’t take her advice.
In their absence, Madge got chatting to some of the other girls on board. Some were fun from the moment they got up to the last minutes of the day while some would never talk but it was clear from the sadness in their faces that they were troubled. Really troubled. Others were looking for a new start to life. There were girls determined to forget the bitterness of broken marriages and there were wives who felt that by volunteering for nursing service in the Far East they would be closer to their husbands’ suffering as Japanese prisoners of war.
There were also the same social divides which blighted society back home, and it soon became apparent that some of the VADs had signed up wanting to ‘do their bit’ but not really to get their hands dirty.
Four weeks had passed and they were on the last leg of their journey. 108 Baker Street felt like a lifetime ago. Vera and Phyl had been holed up in the cabin on and off for almost a week, and Sally was also feeling seasick. Poor girls, I do feel sorry for them, Madge thought. But I’ll be damned if I let them waste their final days on board!
On the penultimate night of the journey, Madge got up and handed her travelling companions their life jackets. Mimicking their boat drill instructor, she said, ‘Fall in; we’re going up on deck.’ The act was so corny the cabin filled with laughter and the sickly trio stumbled to their feet and followed her. The sea had calmed to a millpond and they were just in time to enjoy a sunset of such beauty that it almost eased the nausea, and they even managed a nibble or two at dinner.
As their time on board the Strathnaver came to an end, promises of undying love were made. Lovers kissed tenderly under the stars. Proposals came from men on bended knees. Dreams of a future free of war and destruction were woven. Military and home addresses back in Blighty were exchanged. Couples still strolling on A Deck as midnight approached were in despair that they hadn’t plucked up the courage to say the things they meant to say before time ran out.
‘It was probably just as well they didn’t,’ Madge said to Vera and Phyl with a wry smile. ‘Imagine what sort of mess some of them could have got themselves into!’
9
Arriving in Bombay
As the VADs stepped onto Indian soil for the first time they were greeted by raucous cheering and a blizzard of farewell kisses blown by troops aboard the Strathnaver. The wolf-whistling and waving was soon replaced by an extended round of applause which showed just how aware the soldiers were that these could be the women, in the brutal months ahead, on whom their lives might depend. With the pride of the troops behind them, the smartly dressed contingent, with their shoulders back and their heads held high, marched towards an insecure future.
Commandant Corsar had issued instructions the night before that in addition to the standard tropical kit, stockings were to be worn when it was time to disembark. The problem was that the cotton stockings made Madge’s legs itch in the heat and her pith helmet was so big she had to hold her head high to stop it falling off.
‘We look like extras in a Charlie Chaplin film!’ she said to Phyl and Vera. She was sad to be saying goodbye to the ship after such a wonderful journey and wondered just how many of those boys would live to see their loved ones back home again.
Before she’d arrived in Bombay, Madge had visions of pink palaces, holy men, the Taj Mahal, princesses dripping in gold, elephants and the Himalayas. The reality, after the troopship docked that August, was somewhat different. Just three months earlier a freighter, the SS Fort Stikine, had arrived from Birkenhead on Merseyside with a cargo that included 1,395 tons of explosives, torpedoes, mines, shells, Spitfire fighter planes and £890,000 in gold bullion. Two days later, with the Stikine berthed in Victoria Dock, smoke from a fire that started in one of the holds was discovered, but by then it was too late and a call was issued to abandon ship. A massive explosion cut the ship in half. A second explosion was so enormous that it caused tremors which were registered more than a thousand miles away in Simla.
More than eight hundred people died in the incident. Thirteen ships were destroyed with two blown out of the water. Debris was hurled almost a mile away. Buildings burned for days and rubble-strewn streets took weeks to clear. Thousands were left homeless and the waterfront was a scene of such utter devastation that when she arrived, Madge assumed Bombay had been bombed by the Japanese. It looks just like the destruction caused by the V-1 rocket at Anerley, she thought.
The ruined harbour was a very sobering introduction indeed to Bombay, where the heat of the day had long since eased but been replaced by a humidity so stifling that by the time the VADs had marched the short distance to Victoria Terminus station they dripped with perspiration. The sandwiches and iced drinks provided by the local Women’s Voluntary Service were particularly welcome and reminded Madge of the time she saw the much loved WVS ladies dispensing tea and TLC on a crowded underground platform in London.
As the ambulance train left Bombay the nurses were more than grateful for the chance to freshen up and catch a quick nap. The four
