She wondered exactly when Mum and her sisters would finally be able to return to Dover, and kept her fingers crossed that in spite of all the reassurances this was not just another groundless rumour. Happily, radio reports that had previously been heavily censored began to reveal details of the unconditional surrender. Apparently, London had celebrated through the night and Prime Minister Winston Churchill said that there was ‘no greater day in the history of our country’. The royal family had made no fewer than five appearances on the balcony of Buckingham Palace in response to huge crowds gathered in the Mall. The report drew to a close by saying that for the first time in six years searchlights illuminated St Paul’s Cathedral.
In spite of VE Day, vicious fighting was still taking place in Burma and the nursing staff at 56 IGH were warned to be extra careful in Chittagong where another ‘Jai Hind’ rally in support of home rule for India was scheduled. For Madge, however, there was a more immediate problem because she was due back for duty on the Japanese POW casualty ward and had been made aware that the atmosphere had become increasingly unpleasant. She was told that many of the POWs were squabbling among themselves.
The surgical masks and tight-fitting caps the girls wore made spitting at the nurses harder for the Japanese, but they continued nonetheless. In spite of trying to block all medical treatment they still continued to eat and drink, however. Not a single case of a POW going on hunger strike was recorded in the war diary of 56 IGH. The British guards were starting to lose patience, despite the threat of a court martial, and began to make their feelings known. The key was to follow orders and not physically touch the POWs so, as had happened on Madge’s first shift with the Japanese prisoners, bed legs were kicked when they misbehaved. A senior Japanese officer became so disgusted by the POWs’ behaviour that he held talks with the worst offenders in a bid to end the continuing abuse of the nurses. Fortunately, guards were on hand to save him from serious injury when a furious row broke out and several POWs trapped the officer in a corner.
The day after VE Day, Madge had a fractious and somewhat tiring shift. The humidity was particularly unpleasant and as she sterilised wounds and administered injections, she could only wish that the Allied POWs were being treated the same way by the enemy.
The Japanese officer hobbled over and surprised her when he said, in passable English, that he had told the soldiers they should appreciate the nurses instead of behaving the way they were doing, but his mission had failed. It was the first conversation Madge had had with any of the Japanese POWs and while there clearly was no apology forthcoming, the sentiment reassured her that her work was necessary and right.
A few days later, there was a call for nurses to staff a casualty clearing station (CCS) that was to be set up in the hills east of the port of Maungdaw near the Arakan area just south of Chittagong. Madge was one of six who volunteered. The Arakan was one of the most bitterly fought over areas in the Burma Campaign and for medical staff it was a very dangerous place indeed. The previous year during the Battle of the Admin Box a field hospital operated by the Royal Medical Corps and the Indian Medical Service had been overrun by Japanese, who were looking for medical supplies. During that search they bayoneted bed-bound patients and shot a Red Cross doctor, all in their quest to steal morphine and quinine, and even cotton wool. Indian soldiers who survived being shot were told that the Japanese aim was to be in control of Chittagong within two months. The slaughter of doctors and helpless patients continued and when the Japanese were finally forced out of the hospital complex the bayoneted patients and thirty other bodies were discovered.
Madge was told, along with five other VADs including Vera and Phyl, that they would spend more than a month in the Arakan jungle during which time they would be living in tents. It was unlikely there would be running water and the nurses would be expected to be on duty from the moment they awoke to the time they fell asleep. There certainly wasn’t much sleep on the journey by road and track down the coast from Chittagong to Cox’s Bazar, a strategically vital port on the Bay of Bengal. At least this will be good preparation for when we arrive, thought Madge on the arduous journey.
On the day before the group were due to leave Madge had a wonderful surprise when a letter from Basil arrived. The letter was deliberately upbeat, filled with stories designed to make her smile. It was obvious from the way he signed the note ‘your loving Basil’ that he still felt just as strongly about her as she did about him, and just that knowledge helped to lift her from the sadness she felt at being apart from him.
The distance from Chittagong to Cox’s Bazar was little more than a hundred miles but for the nurses travelling in the rear of the battered old green army ambulance it turned into a bone-shaking nightmare that seemed to take hours. The constant rainstorms turned the roads to quagmires and Madge was grateful for the kindness of the Ghanaian driver, who went out of his way to make the trip as bearable as possible. Awooner was a member of the Royal West Africa Frontier Force that fought with such distinction in the Burma Campaign and he was an expert at manoeuvring the rickety old vehicle through floods and round deep and dangerous potholes.
‘Don’t you ladies worry yourselves,’ he told them as they each gripped their seats as
