CALENDARIO AMBIENTAL

they encountered but the tone of their letters and records, far from being critical,

took a new note of enthusiasm. Hospital ship work, on the whole, was more popular

than work in military hospitals, its chief attraction being that it gave nurses the

opportunity to care for the men straight from the front. Nurses felt the excitement of

working close to the front attending to the heroes of war. They also appreciated

being seen as useful members of the army and, unlike the majority of women,

having their professional abilities identified as a valuable resource.23 Contrary to

20

C. Le Gallais, 13 October 1915.

21

_{Ibid., 13 October 1915.}

22

_{Diary of Second L George Wallace Bollinger, Friday, 2 July 1915, Gallipoli, RV 3730, Queen} Elizabeth II Anoy Museum, Waiouru.

23 See H. Donner,

'

"The Women are Splendid" - The Value of Women's Work in the Great War,' Paper presented at the Department of History, Atkinson College, York University, England,

1992, who makes the point that women who worked close to the front found their work rewarding, some even commenting in retrospect, that war was the best time of their lives.

the complaints made on the inability of the authorities to organise military hospitals in Egypt, nurses now, almost unanimously, reported favourably on the organising

abilities of the staff of the

Maheno.

Ship duty moved nurses away from the

traditional structures of military hospitals with their ward routine to new ventures, helping to achieve what they had hoped for, more immediate nursing of the wounded although, undoubtedly, they also cared for many more who suffered with medical illnesses of dysentery, pneumonia and skin disorders.

The nurses' campaign to further their role in war appeared to be finally making

progress. At last, nurses were working as close to the firing line as the doctors and orderlies employed on hospital ships and were applying their nursing skills for the benefit of the sick and wounded soldiers. Their new duties required them to work

alongside medical teams, carrying out emergency treatment and guiding the orderlies. This appealed to those eager to show their bravery and anxious to prove their professional and patriotic worth. The condition of the soldiers played a larger part in the nurses' letters and diaries. Entries tell of instances when soldiers, suffering from wounds and also prostrate from the effects of dysentery, so sick as to be unable to light a cigarette, tried their best to help their comrades.24 The situation demanded nurses' professional skills and hospital ship duty emphasised the importance of their work.

The duties ascribed to orderlies, ship's staff and nurses altered as the hospital ship became inundated with seriously ill and dying soldiers. While specific functions belonged to officers and ship's hands, and nurses had their assigned tasks, everyone worked together when faced with the arrival of the casualties. Orderlies, as well as carrying out their main duties of cleaning, scrubbing and fumigating, also attended to the sick, stripping the soldiers of their clothes, and dressing the wounds

24 A. Buckley. passim. C. Le Gallais,

passi

m. 'Extracts from

Nurses'

Letters', NZNJ. January 1916, 9: 1, pp. 20-30.

during the busy times. With six doctors, eleven nurses and forty-three orderlies, the urgency of the situation required everyone to give a hand. Firemen, sailors, officers and orderlies all helped with lifting patients and attending the helpless. Both nurses and the ship's crew worked in the operating theatre when and where required. John Dudar, Second Officer of the

Maheno, observed the removal of a bullet from one

soldier's brain:

[T]he bullet had entered a man's head. They had to take the scalp off and cut a piece of the bone away. I could see the bullet quite plain and fancy it just stopped about 1/8" from the brain.25

Dudar expressed his horror at the grim reality:

and

[nhe wounds are really shocking, two poor fellows aged 21 & 26 passed away half an hour after they came on board, one was shot by shrapnel in the neck and the piece travelled down his body and lodged in his groin, the other poor fellow had his leg blown of

(sic)

at the knee and I never wish to see a sadder sight ... .!t absolutely broke us all up .... 26

I do not know what we shall all be like if we have to see such awful sights and the hours that we are working are telling on everybody, we are all helping in every possible way, ourselves, sailors & firemen working at carrying wounded, feeding them, and I have been in the theatre we are needed everywhere as long as we can lift & assist nurses.27

In these circumstances nurses felt less powerless. They gave orders, made decisions on the care of the soldiers and worked efficiently alongside other crew members. The effects of war took on a new dimension when as many as thirty men could die on a three hour trip. New Zealand nurses working on British hospital ships met with similar situations.28 One British hospital ship had six medical officers, eight nurses and 38 orderlies for as many as 800 wounded. The routine which worked the best on these ships required the nurses to record the name, rank and wounds of the soldier, take his temperature and instruct the orderlies in the

25 J. Dudar. 28 August 1915, p. 32.

26 _{Ibid., 26 August} 1915, p. 24. This occurred while the ship was anchored off Anzac Bay. 27 _{Ibid., 26 August 1915, p. 24.}

28 New Zealand nurses worked on a nwnber of British ships. For example the Assaye, Braemar Castle and Grantully Castle� See S. Kendall and D. Corbett for further names of hospital ships on which New Zealand nurses worlced. p. 63.

prescribed care. On one voyage Grace Calder on the

Galeka,

nursed 74 acutely ill patients with the assistance of five orderlies.29 On board another British ship, the

Dongola,

one of the orderlies remarked on the odour of infected wounds and blood­ drenched dressings.30 Others recorded that life aboard ships could be harsh. Some of the casualties had not been able to wash for weeks. The fleas and lice they carried quickly transferred to nurses and one recalled making frequent trips to the linen cupboard to delouse herself.3 1 With the pressure of such large numbers of patients, a form of triage was adopted.32 Red tickets attached to patients alerted medical staff to the serious cases and indicated those who would be moved quickly to hospitals.33 In the field, a dying man might be 'rolled off [an] oil skin sheet as he was nearly gone' and replaced by another ill soldier in the hope he might have a chance to receive medical assistance.34 S hip work required decisive action and effective team work to cope with the pitiful needs of the men.

Burying the dead remained the preserve of men, their strength being needed when as many as sixteen might be buried at sea at one time. Dudar, who had responsibility for attending the dead, recorded that the ship stopped 'to bury 9 bodies and not one man that did not have a limb off}5 At times some of the bodies were

29 30 31 32 33

34

35

'Letter to

the

Editor. Hospital Ship Galeka. from Grace Calder'. NZNJ. January 1916. 9:1. pp. 22-23.

N. Boyack, Behind the Lines, p. 54.

'Letters from Hospital Ship "Maheno" (First Commission)" NZNJ, January 1916, 9:1, pp. 18- 19.

Triage, which became an established feature during the Korean War, appears to have been also in vogue in World War I, although the term was not used. Triage is classifying the wounded into three categories, those who need immediate attention, those too ill to be able to benefit from medical assistance and those who can be transported up the line to base hospitals for treatmenL

P. Fenwick, p. 58. Fenwick was the New Zealand Deputy Assistant Director of Medical Services and served as a medical officer at Gallipoli. His diary provides a detailed account of the armistice between the Turks and the British on 24 May 1915, to bury

the

dead.

Private Earnest Charles Clifton, MS 0548-0552, WW. J. Dudar, 28 August 1915. p. 29.

too lightly weighted and would not sink requiring extra physical effort to recover and re-weight them.36 One such instance drew a comment from Dudar that he 'had to go away in our gig with four more men and tie more weight onto the canvas'. He

wrote of this incident ,[W]hat I had to do it is too awful, I came back & was ill at the

thought of it'.37 He hoped he would get used to the duties which fell to him - 'things which nurses cannot bear fall to our 10t...'.38

Nurses prepared the dead for burial and often requested shrouds, sometimes in large numbers, to save the pyjamas for the living.39 In civilian hospitals, nurses traditionally cared for the dying and women in the home attended to the immediate care of the dead. Men carried out the public duty of carrying the coffin and making the arrangements for burial. The continuation of the traditional segregation of this particular duty in war reflected the Christian custom that the last rites officially belonged to ministers of religion, all of whom were men, and in their absence another male took over. Burying the soldier also took on a particular meaning. The last rite became a ritual, a way of softening the trauma of the reality of death, the result of war.40 Burying the hero helped men face the trauma of death on foreign soil and acted as an expression of respect for the fighter.

While nurses remained divorced from the final ritual of burial at sea, many

other situations that they faced could be considered to be equally, if not more,

traumatic. One soldier was able to walk from the deck to his bed but died later of

wounds caused by a bullet that had injured his brain, broken both his jaws and

36 Ibid., p. 29.

37 _{Ibid., p. 29.} 38 Ibid., p 29.

39 J. Bassett, p. 60. 40 G. L. Mosse, p. 102.

lodged in his neck. Others died quickly from 'awful wounds'.41 'Living skeletons' suffering from malaria, typhoid and cholera made one nurse wonder how any of the soldiers survived the trauma.42 Ship's staff dealt not only with the physical ailments

but also the emotional crises of men who had seen their comrades slaughtered by the enemy.

[S]ome of the things we have heard are really too awful, after a big attack men on both sides are killed & if they are out of the trenches their bodies are left unburied & when our men gain a trench from the turks

(sic),

the trenches are choked with men some dead for days and our men have to fight and live among them. All the men that we have on board now are, apart from wounds, just wasted away and broken down for the want of food and rest.. .. 43

Staff of the hospital ships lived with the knowledge that dead soldiers on Gallipoli often lay unattended and they also found that, with the vast amount of work to be done, the wounded, even when brought safely to the ship, could receive only limited treatment. Working long hours among the stench from infected wounds, seeing the men wasted from dysentery and malnutrition, the staff of the

Maheno

soon lost their faith in British military authorities. Dudar considered the British leaders to be 'a lot of damn fools who are at the head of affairs' using the New Zealand soldiers as fodder for the Turkish snipers.44 From mid-1915 onwards

nurses and officers openly expressed resentment at the bungling of military

arrangements. The war for many had become 'ghastly', 'gruesome', 'bloody' and bitter, and both the inept military organisation and the brutalisation of soldiers began to surface in letters home.45 One New Zealand soldier wrote about his experiences during May 1915. 'Oh what a gruelsome

(sic)

sight to see your best pals

(sic)

brains

41 42 43 44 45 J. Dudar. 7 September 1915. p. 35.

'Letters from Nurses Abroad', NZNJ, January 1917. 10:1 , p. 6.

J. Dudar. 27-28 August 1915. p. 26. Dudar also stated that 'no less than a dozen women [Turks] have been caught sniping, it seems they are wives of the soldiers'.

Ibid., 18 September 1915. p. 48.

B. Tilly, 10 July 1916, WlU. Barbara Tilly joined the NZANS in December 1915 and worked on hospital ships and in France and England J. Dudar. 18 September 1915, p. 48.

get blown out right alongside you for nearly everyone that morning got shot through the head . . . . this was Hell on Earth . . . .'46 S uch experiences influenced the way hospital staff viewed the wounded. Even those soldiers who 'appeared glad to receive a wound to get a spell' received consideration, as every soldier had

performed his duty for the nation, especially those from Gallipoli.47

As had occurred in military hospitals, nurses adapted to meet the

circumstances of ship duties. Moving between countries required considerable improvisation. One week it could be Gallipoli with snow, cold winds and winter uniform. Three weeks later Malta or Britain could be the port of call with temperatures requiring a change to summer uniform. In the heat, the stench from the lower decks became so overpowering that the ship would circle to ventilate the wards. The sudden cold, the arduous hours of work, the discomfort of eating sea­ drenched meals and walking along decks which tilted precariously, required the staff to continually adapt. Rough seas and the occasional air-raid when in port added to the variety.48 Swinging cots made attending to the soldiers difficult especially when the staff might be also be suffering from sea-sickness. On one trip a nurse became so sea-sick that she ended up sitting on the floor with another sea-

sick friend, with the two of them sharing the one basin. The amount of time waiting

around for the ship to sail, while it gave nurses an opportunity to see the town, irritated them as much as it irritated the soldiers. Boats and trains left hours after the stated time which left nurses and soldiers waiting around wondering when the next meal might be available.49 Most had little money to spend on the wide range of new items they came across and, even if they had the money to buy a gift, storing it

46 47 48 49

Letter to 'Gill' written by F. C. Trenne. 12 January 1916. MS 1570. Auckland Institute and

Museum.

J. Dudar. 28 August 1915. p. 27.

A. Bucldey. 10 February to 24 February. 1916.

Report of Surgeon General Featherston on the development of Australian Casualty Qearing Stations, Tait Files, A WM 32, p. 75, A WM.

became a problem. The allowance of one bag for clothing and a hand-held bag for extras left little room for parcels.

Nurses had also, like the soldiers, to cope with the changing pattern of work. As in hospitals, the work among the sick and wounded soldiers became draining emotionally and physically. On some trips the ship might be carrying up to 1 ,300 patients, many of whom were very ill, a number requiring amputations.50 On the next trip the ship could be transporting hospital staff to a new setting and the time on-board was spent carrying out the boring duties of organising the linen and padding splints. Changes to ship's staff also required considerable adaptation. For some weeks the complement of staff would remain stable then, with new appointments, everyone had to learn to work along side new team members.

While it was usual that the organisation on hospital ships ran smoothly, especially when the work was heavy, there were exceptions when the nurse's position could become tenuous and threatened by the interferences of male officers. In keeping with tradition, the ship's captain organised ship duties, with a doctor authorising medical services. Nurses were few in number among the many navy and army men. This meant they lost the degree of power provided in a general military hospital with its stronger nursing presence and clearer demarcation between the work of nurses, doctors and other groups. The matron, an appointed senior nurse on each sailing, held control over nursing duties, but in reality doctors held more power. When the ship called in at a port the doctors could arrange trips in­ land, something the nurses had difficulty achieving. The nurse in charge was reliant on the doctors to support her request for the nurses to leave the ship. One doctor showed his irritation that on a trip to Kandy, the capital of Ceylon, 'the trip included

every blooming nurse'.5 1 Another doctor was able to ask for ice cream for the nurses, but the nurses themselves were not in a position to make such a request. More serious situations also required the support of men. Captain John Russell recorded an instance when he was travelling home on board the Arawa. Two New Zealand nurses who were caring for an Australian nurse requested his help, 'he being the only male to whom [they] could appeal for assistance' to have the Australian nurse transferred to an Australia ship as she wished to die in her own land.52. On transport vessels male officers being moved to new locations received preferential treatment. They expected and received the best berths. On one particular trip, the

Maheno

carried wounded British officers who requisitioned every available service. Along with requests for champagne, burgundy, hot well-served meals and clean ablution blocks for their personal use, officers also expected obsequious behaviour from the orderlies attending them. 53 Nurses on the other hand had to fight for their rights. They found that most often they had been assigned second class accommodation, whether travelling as passengers to a new position or when working aboard transporters. While nurses requested first class berths, their right by vinue of their rank as officers, some ships' captains and medical officers treated this request with little regard. Edna Pengelly complained that at military hospitals the medical officers and the orderlies were able to commandeer an ambulance to transfer convalescents, but nurses lacked the authority to do so.54 The implicit belief was that war was men's business and this disadvantaged nurses throughout the war years.

51 52 53 54

Memoirs of William John Barclay (M.D., D.P.H., F.R.C.S.E., F.R.A.C.S.), 1874-1967, as told

by Lilian Barclay, RV 3902, Queen Elizabeth II Anny Museum, WaiOlD'U.

Diary of John McBeth Russell, MS 1693, Folder I, WIU.

Leuex from Major F.G. Gibson, New Zealand Medical Corps, to the Genmll Officer

In document Formulación de herramientas y apoyo para la actualización del sistema de gestión ambiental de la unidad administrativa especial – Dirección de Impuestos y Aduanas Nacionales Dian, en el proceso de transición de la norma ISO 14001 en su versión 2004 a su v (página 98-106)