Thanks for the link, Len. It is such a remarkable article I think it deserves quoting in full in this thread. As I understand the copyright conditions applicable to that site, it is permissible to do this.
Basement Extraordinaire
by Edith Davies
Many Medical/Nursing Teams went out into the city centres of our land during the many air-raids. Remembrance Day gives us an opportunity to reflect and remember.
As a young student nurse what an honour it was to be a member of such a team. So come with me. The sirens are once again sounding, penetrating the fragile silence.
Birmingham General Hospital stood proud and majestic in the heart of the great Midlands industrial city, lit only by flares and searchlights scanning the skies above. One emergency team stayed inside the hospital complex for immediate duty as and when necessary. A further team consisting of surgeons, housemen and nurses reported for duty in the basement of Lewis's big department store. This team assembled in the corridor of the main nurse's home taking with them uniforms, underwear and toiletries sufficient for two days. Matron stood at the exit door, the corridor in darkness except for torches. Each member of the team received a tin helmet and well wishes from Matron. I think we all wore Wellingtons and carried our duty shoes.
We left the cosy, small side road and turned into the main street where some buildings were already ablaze. Firemen were desperately trying to control the flames. Water appeared to be everywhere. We paddled through it, stepping over hoses, over and around debris, picking our way up the centre of the street wherever possible. Overhead the sky was brightly lit, reflecting the fires. Searchlights scanned the sky for the Luftwaffe. I remember vividly seeing planes in the circling lights, looking like silver grey phantoms and then, horror of horrors, falling bombs and dull thuds in the near distance. We would be very busy tonight.
Lewis's basement at last! Already rows and rows of trestle beds had been erected by the ARP wardens and Lewis's staff were on call to help. Behind a special partition we set up two theatres and checked the emergency beds. All was ready in a couple of minutes. The casualties, expected to be few at first, arrived in large numbers, mostly on stretchers, all covered in a film of grey dust, their clothes ragged and bloodstained, their faces ashen. Some were unconscious, others extremely shocked and battered. Most of them had been treated at the first aid posts set up all round the city. Patients given an injection of morphine had a cross inked on their foreheads. It was the duty of nurses outside the theatre area to assess each patient quickly. Those in need of immediate surgery or treatment we placed on beds in the front rows, others in rows according to their injuries and urgency. Sadly for some of them the journey had been too strenuous and these air raid victims were placed, with as much dignity as possible, on a marble counter in the snack bar. How hard it was to show no emotion! In the theatre limbs were restored or amputated, internal injuries repaired, burns dressed and blood transfusions given in great numbers. How welcome was that marvellous cup of hot coffee, that pot of tea, and the many sandwiches and biscuits Lewis's management prepared and sent down to the basement. Many thanks to them and their staff for this wonderful support without which our task would have been so much harder and more tiring.
How time flies! The All Clear sounded a short while ago but we didn't hear it. Casualties were still arriving, but at a much slower rate. All those fit to be moved were transferred to out lying hospitals whose wards had been emptied and got ready weeks or even months before. Gradually the rows of beds in the basement decreased, the numbers of patients lessened and no more arrived.
Behind the partitions, patients too ill to be moved remained with a skeleton staff. Would they survive the day? Probably not. For young nurses such conditions were hard. No training had taught them how to deal with them. A light touch of the head, a squeeze of the hand was all they had time to give patients they knew were scared and in pain. How they longed to linger, to say a few words, to give hope but other lives were in danger and vital minutes could save them. That night this young nurse grew up!
All the beds in the general area had now been removed. Lewis's staff had been busy cleaning the floors, the dead had been taken to the city mortuary, the snack bar was sparkling clean. Dawn had arrived? A new day began! For Lewis's department store, business as usual!
© Edith Davies 2003. (To read this memoir in its original setting, the excellent BBC People's War Archive, please click here. WW2 People's War is an online archive of wartime memories contributed by members of the public and gathered by the BBC. The complete archive can be found at www.bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar[/I]. There are tens of thousands of contributions including many referring to Birmingham. Use the Search facility and such definitions as "Birmingham + bombing" or "Birmingham + ARP" or "Birmingham + your part of the city" to unearth them).
