QARANC & BMH’s - Part 2.

The QARANC and BMH’s
- [Part Two] -

When ever you are in a country where there are nasty creepy crawlies you never placed your boots or clothing on the ground, you always hang them on a line slung between the tent posts. This particular occasion one of my Sgts washed his trousers and laid them over the fly sheet of a 160-lbs tent to dry. ....

Next morning when he got up putting on his freshly washed trousers, exclaimed, Shit “I’ve just been bitten”. With in three minutes he was rolling around on the ground. Delirious. ....

Taking off his trousers we found on his thigh a very large red spot with a puncture mark in the centre. Both Johnny Boy [African Askari] and the Medic were quickly on the scene, when Johnny Boy saw the red spot with the puncture wound he looked inside the trousers and then suddenly pointed to a scorpion, a great big black evil looking thing, ‘Not good wahna, not good”. Johnny Boy picked up a shovel and was just about to beat the living crap of it. “No, No,” I said. - [I had been taught if anyone got bitten always try and capture the ‘thing’ and take it in so the medical staff could identify what kind of medication to use, also to restrain with minimal force any moment from the causality thus helping the heart not to pump blood around the body at a faster rate - makes sense to me]. ....

We tied up the trousers by knotting each leg and drawing up the waist band so we captured the scorpion. ....

The white faced medical orderly said there was nothing he could do and that we should get him to the BMH - [British Military Hospital] as soon possible. ....

The Army Landrover Ambulance is not the best of vehicles to travel in, especially if you are in the back, whether as a patient or passenger. I did once, as a passenger and that was once to many. We loaded up the ambulance with the Sgt, Med Ord and two of my soldiers. .....

The BMH 60-miles away in Nairobi, 25-miles across open country, joining up with the main Nairobi to Mombassa highway, and then heading into Nairobi. With our ‘Blue’s and Two’s on, going into and through the Nairobi traffic, scattering cars to the left and right, reached the BMH. [1-hour it took]. ....

Screeching to halt in front of Main Reception of the BMH., I walked through the main doors up to the reception desk closely followed by my two young soldiers and with a fireman's chair carrying my Sgt together with the Med Ordly. ....

At reception a Corporal, sitting there in front of a typewriter, with a KD starched uniform, “Name, Rank, Army Number, Unit, etc. I demanded some medical attention immediately. “Name, Rank, Army Number, Unit, was the reply. I might add that there was no recognition of my rank. I resisted the temptation to reach over the counter, grab the said Corporal round the throat and give him a good thumping .....

I could hear in the background the moaning sounds come from my Sgt, so I knew he was still with us. It had been one and half hours now since he had been bitten, also managed to survive riding in the back of an Army Landrover Ambulance for an hour. ....

I can’t say that I was worried but I was a getting more and more concerned. ....

Now I don’t normally loose my Harry Rag, but on this occasion I did, right then, I’m sorry to say that my usual cool, calm and collective approach to any situation was fast becoming exhausted, and with a loud voice once again demanded some medical attention. ....

Then WOW. ....

Standing by my side not more than 6-foot away was this magnificent LADY - My world stood still for the next ten seconds, not a sound, everything froze, nothing moved, the world had come to a stop,seemed like an eternity at the time. There she stood, hands on hips, magnificent, fantastic, resplendent, A QARANC Captain - [Queens Alexandra’s Royal Army Nursing Corps]. ‘Mam’ was standing there all five foot of her. ....

Now I don’t suppose many of the readers of this blog entry will every have seen any QARANC nurses let alone Sisters, they are absolutely ‘Angles’, hearts of gold, but you don’t ‘mess’ around with the ‘Sisters', I’ve seen the biggest and bravest soldiers quake in their presence.

Five foot of feminine presence. ....

Her grey blueish eyes looking at me, making eye contact all the time, like two laser beams, I just couldn’t resist the temptation to look her up and down. Her starched white ‘cap’ over her hair, there was just a hint of greyishness there, the round face with little makeup and those grey blueish eyes. A red cape over her shoulder and three pips on the epaulettes, greyish dress with creases that were so sharp you could cut your fingers on, black low heeled shoes, She wore a row of medal ribbons and a gold watch hanging down . ....

My Goddess spoke, “WHAT'S going on here”. I told her my Sgt had been bitten by a scorpion about one and a half hours ago, desperately trying to remember everything the Med Ord had told me, heart beat, respiratory system. What happened next was that my ‘Goddess’ just seemed to raise her hand, nurses, porters, medical attendants appeared out of thin air, placing my Sgt on a trolley and wheeled him away. ....

“What makes you think it was a scorpion bite”? she asked One of my soldiers stepped forward and threw the trousers at her and said, “Because the bloody thing is still in there”. My Goddess bent down and picked up the trousers turned and started to walk away. I gave her one of my best Sunday salutes, She saluted back and said, “I’ll have that soldiers name”.

I never did meet up with my goddess again even though I visited my Sgt on a couple of occasion.

The Army’s Angles:

Army nurses are based in Medical Centres where they work with Army GPs in Field Hospitals. Some nurses have even had the opportunity to travel to such places as New Zealand, Australia, Kenya or South Africa. There are also army nurses and HCAs currently working in Field Hospitals and with Medical Regiments in Afghanistan and Iraq and they have also been involved in humanitarian work in Rwanda and Angola. In essence, everywhere the Army goes you will be sure to find QA nurses and HCAs ready to care for injured soldiers.

Thank God they do.

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