Joyce's War (7 page)

Bimbashi, the lieutenant colonel, was so sweet, answering all our questions in extremely good English and forgiving our extreme ignorance. He has already agreed to send the photographs to the hotel tomorrow and he asked our permission to include it in the Mohammedan magazine, with the names. He said he would send us a dozen copies of this. The important assemblage disappeared into the mosque to await the arrival of the news – by Marconi – as to where the crescent moon had been sighted, for unless it is actually seen in one country or another where Moslems are watching for it, Ramadan does not take place. The messenger arrived presently to say it had been seen at the observatory in Helwan outside Cairo so everything was alright. We went then with Bambashi up to the Citadel to await the firing of the 21 guns, announcing that Ramadan had officially begun, and to see the minarets light up, one after another all over Cairo and indeed all over Egypt, for it appears that they all wait for the Citadel to light first before following suit. We were the only ones there, it being a fortress closed to the public after sunset, and it was a thrilling sight to be high above the city and to see Cairo at our feet, springing to life out of the darkness.

Into the car again, then on to an Egyptian restaurant where Bimbashi insisted on taking us to have a real Egyptian dinner. The
pièce de la resistance
was a grilled pigeon, killed and cooked whilst we waited, so we learned later, a gruesome thought, although the birds tasted delicious and we ate them,
comme il faut
, with our fingers. Bimbashi arranged that we should go with him on Friday to the Coptic and Egyptian museums and then to the University Mosque where the king was praying that day. He was getting special permissions from the ministry of works and was calling for us at 9.30. Alas, this was all cut short for on Friday we were on our way to Alexandria and our future home.

Next morning we were told not to leave the hotel as we were getting orders to move on. This upset us a little, as of course we were not ready; we never are when the time for moving arrives, and there were overalls to collect from the little Turkish dressmaker who had been doing odds and ends for us and everything we possessed had to be picked up at once. We learned later that twelve of us, and five from Heliopolis, were detailed for the 2/5th General Hospital, Alexandria and that we were to leave next day. That left us free to go to the Sezara Club with Mona, John, a sister of a friend of Mona’s, and we spent a most pleasant afternoon there with her and her husband who is a captain with the forces. They were such nice people and I found in the end that both were from Wales originally. That night Mona and I took ourselves – for a last treat in Cairo – to the Continental Savoy for dinner. This cost us 100 piastres each, so it was just as well we left Cairo the next day.

We departed in an army van at 2.30 the next day, and after a rather uninteresting run, arrived in darkness in Alexandria about 8pm. The assistant matron met us and we started on our first run to the hospital in total blackout. It was all strange: full of new sounds and sights as a new house always is. We were given supper and allocated to our bedrooms for the night. Mona and I shared one in the mess but others went down to the flats on the Corniche Road.

November 22nd 1940

It is nearly two months since I wrote this up – although I try to do it regularly. In that time we have thoroughly established ourselves, got the feel of the wards, and the mess, explored the town itself and altogether made ourselves at home. We are all very happy here, liking the matron particularly and the general atmosphere in which we are working. Mona and I, after about three weeks in the mess, have moved down to the flats on the Corniche Road where I have a corner room on the right and Mona on the left of the back flat, second floor. There is a superb outlook especially from my balcony, along the shore to Alexandria and the harbour. I can see the sunrise o’ mornings and the sunset by night from my bed. We have been busy fixing up blackout curtains for the doors and windows – I have dark blue – and have also made a cover for the trunk. We have each bought a folding table which we propose to stain and which should prove to be an invaluable piece of furniture. We are mostly happy down on the Corniche and don’t for a moment begrudge the walk up in the early mornings and at night. We have dragged Beatrice from her lair in the kit bag and put most of her together again, and she more or less willingly boils our water for coffee when we require it.

As for ward work – I have been on B Ground from the beginning. It has 108 beds and is Septic Surgical; an enormous ward really, one can scarcely see into the furthest corner. I was on day duty for about six weeks but am on nights now. We have at times had our full quota of patients, which makes it very heavy, but quite recently it has been made a CCS, and so we keep the men only so long as it takes them to get sorted out and then they are sent elsewhere to the 62nd Jerusalem or the 19th at Geneifa or the 8th, which is between here and Alexandria. We do however keep all naval patients as there is nowhere else for them to go. Just now we have had quite a number from the
Maine
, the hospital ship in Alexandria’s harbour. They have had a noisy and nerve-wracking time down there during air raids at night and so have been sent up to us. I think they are glad to be on terra firma and in the comparative peace of it all. We have had a lot of Aussies and New Zealanders in from time to time. One day a tall lanky boy arose from his bed and said, ‘Excuse me Sister, but are you Joyce Parry?’ With astonishment I replied, ‘I am and who are you?’ Then it transpired that he was one Cecil Brown, erstwhile of Shelford, whom I last saw as a small boy at school!

The nights are long, especially as we are so slack, and trying to keep conscious between doing active jobs is as difficult for me as anything can be. There were no raids last night, for a wonder, and have been none tonight so far. The night before, my night off, there were five all told. Two of them I missed, being too deeply asleep to hear the sirens, but there were more than 40 killed and 70–80 injured and over 80 killed in the previous bad raid and 100 injured – all civilians. The raids have been bad in England again, nearly 300 killed in Coventry in one air raid alone
20
and a thousand and more casualties altogether. It is so awful to think of the desolation and the waste of life and property.

I am hearing from Mother on a regular basis now, but the English mail is irregular and slow. The only person I hear from with any regularity is the Australian padre I met in London, who apparently thinks I must be written to once a week at all costs! Bill is still at Helmieh, Cairo, and not liking it any better. She has been up to Alexandria twice – flying once – on her days off. She hopes to get a transfer here one of these days. Mona and I go to Cairo on our days off when we come off night duty, that is, if Mona is allowed to stay the extra days to coincide with the end of my month.

Greece of course is in the war now and we are vitally interested just here because we are so near to these fast moving events. A friend of Mona’s, an MO who has been in Palestine for some months, has gone to Greece and so has John Brennan, the paymaster for Cairo. He rang me up the previous night, somewhere in Alexandria. He couldn’t say where, but probably they were on their ship awaiting their departure. I shall hear about it later I expect. I do hope I shall get a transfer to Greece myself after I have done a few more months here as I always did want to visit Greece, and now to be so near, and yet so far! Our two prize burns cases were transferred to the 62nd today. They were so ill when they first came in, both were on intravenous drips but they are simply wonderful now. I’m really glad they’ve gone however, because they did demand, and got a good deal of attention.

November 23rd 1940

I had a good sleep today. Mona and I went out on a minor shopping expedition to the little Greek grocery store in the tiny village near the ‘new house’ on our way down to the Corniche. Coming back a very dirty but very beautiful Egyptian woman was sitting on the kerb with her two children. The smaller of them must have been no more than ten months old but she waved to us in the friendliest cheeriest way and called, ‘Saida, Saida’. Well schooled these native children are, much less self conscious and much more cute than our children at the same age. Later, I decided to put permang
21
on my folding table before going to bed. I made the gesture of putting on a pair of gloves and got to work. When I took the gloves off my fingers were coal black from the nails to the knuckles. A more revolting sight you never saw. It took fifteen minutes with a pumice stone to remove the evidence. When I awoke the sun had set and the sky was smoky grey and the last vestiges of pink were slinking away. It was time to arise, and take my shower, alas cold, and to put the iron on, for the battle frocks need pressing every time one puts them on.

Good news tonight – if one can call any war news good: Koritza has fallen to the Greeks and Albania, it seems, has assisted. No raid for three nights; we hardly know ourselves. No doubt, however, we shall pay for it later on.

Athenordon, the Greek, with a hydrated cyst of the lung is my biggest worry at night, apart from Rifleman Smith who has a large plaster sore. The rest sleep like children and there is very little to be done for them apart from a few painkillers. I have just come across from C2 E, from supper – the sky, black, with a million stars and the tall tower of B Ground standing clearly against the sky. Rather a nice building, altogether, this erstwhile ‘Victoria College’.

November 28th 1940

I think it must have been the night I last wrote this up that we had our worst raid so far. The sirens went at 4.45am when we really thought that everything was over until the next full moon and soon the navy was exceedingly busy with pom poms and a terrific barrage of fire and guns. One or more planes flew quite close over the hospital and it seemed a bomb was dropped less than quarter of a mile away. It must have been then that the machine guns went off. I was up at the end of the ward taking temperatures when suddenly, amid the dull thud of bombs and the muffled notes of the fleet guns, came the sharp rat, tat, tat of machine gun fire. I feel certain it was done so that it was just outside the window where I stood and I quite expected to see holes where the bullets had come through.

It transpired, however, that it was our own Lewis gun, belonging to the Army CC, which is just over the fence from Isolation. It is said that one of the Egyptians got excited and let the gun off by mistake. It seems ‘gippos’, as they disrespectfully term them, are quite impossible once they get worked up and that’s why they don’t send any air flares up much here as so many of them have been obligingly shot down by our own guns. Whether they are so successful with every aircraft one doesn’t hear. Well, as a result of this raid, four persons were killed and more than 30 injured. But the windows of the building near the centre are completely shattered, and a block of flats just behind us had a direct hit, although the people were fortunately in shelters and escaped. There has been nothing since and we hope there won’t be, for it is disturbing to have to put all the lights out, just as the washes are in full swing.

Life goes slowly on otherwise. The Greeks seem to advance daily, where I don’t know, but everyone seems very delighted about it, so it must be in the right direction, at least. I’ve had odd letters during the week: two of them have drifted in from General and one from Mrs Williams, two ship mail ones from Mother and one airmail, and yesterday, a ship mail from Mali and another from General. It seems his son Bill is coming overseas, I suppose to Palestine. My sister Mona also may be making tracks this way for she has been summonsed for a personal interview and was to go very soon after she wrote. Strange if she were to come to Palestine and even Egypt, but they say an Australian hospital is opening here very soon. There is some talk that we may have to take our leave very soon to get it over. It will be ten days and we shall certainly spend it in Palestine if we can possibly scrape up £20. It’s a great life this, a month or two of work after many months of idling and then there is talk of more leave.

I had a night off last night. It is so marvellous to come off in the morning and to know that you have got two whole nights to yourself and that the ward with its smells and its worries – these in the correct order as to their importance please note – may temporarily be forgotten. I went to bed for two hours in the morning and then got up and had a scratch lunch with Mona in her room. Then into town by train for some odds and ends of shopping.

We went to an Indian antique shop and bought some rather pretty hand-blown cocktail glasses – mine were in blue and Mona’s green and amber – and some glass plates and bowls to match for the flat. Very cheap too, one piasta for the smaller ones and one and a half for the larger ones. In that shop they have a piece of a mummy of a princess and goddess of ancient Egypt. It seems that she was supreme in Egypt in magic and the supernatural. The remainder of her has been left in Paris! The old Indian who owns the shop is most amusing about her, probably he repeats the same stories to customers every day year in year out but custom never seems to stale his infinite love and veneration for her. The idea is to put one’s hand near this odd-looking piece of mummy, which is on the case near the wall and which looks like a piece of wood that white ants have attacked, and to feel a warmth penetrating into one’s hand from the mummy and a tingling up one’s fingers and arm, whilst making a wish all the while. The old man told me, much to Mona’s amusement, that I was ‘angelic’, by which we gather he meant ‘spiritual’, as he told me repeatedly that I was a very strong medium and it was a very rare gift. I have been told this before at spiritualist meetings but have never felt disposed to do anything about it … I’d much rather not.

Mona is allowed to stay on nights until I come off on the 12th so we are going to Cairo. She has also been able to bring about an outing for us and a dinner invitation, from a Mr and Mrs Ades, Jews, whose son is a volunteer in the army and is a patient in one of her wards. It seems they are wealthy people and it will be interesting to see inside one of their homes, which look most sumptuous from without, at least.