- Contributed by
- Phylis_Stein
- People in story:
- "Vicky" Cecile Plumb, Rosary Mary Sheehan, Sister Lemon
- Location of story:
- Willesden, london
- Background to story:
- Civilian Force
- Article ID:
- A4008917
- Contributed on:
- 05 May 2005
As told to me by my extraordinary Mum, Vicky Cove (nee Plumb)
1940
The sky sizzled with colour and as the bombs fell over London. Night after night we carefully created a cape of normality to protect us from the chill of our own terror.
Night duty, why is it all things hold so much fear for us after dark? There was little room in my imagination for the unseen, reality was more than enough to cope with as a twenty four year old Midwife in training. The Central Middlesex hospital at Willesden had been my home now for some months. 1940, another year of war and for me, war babies.
Every evening we obediently followed the blackout instructions. The deadly game of hide and seek. All was hidden behind heavy curtains, even lighting your ciggy outside was likely to be accompanied by a furious yell of âput that light ahht !, doncha know âitlers snipers can see you all the way from Berlin?â
The responsibility of the Maternity ward rested in the formidable hands of Sister Lemon. Some said she was as sour as her name, my friends and I felt this was a slur on a defenceless fruit.
Sister Lemon wasnât just tidy, she had an aura of crisp, starch professionalism that swept through the polished wards leaving nurses scattered like windblown twigs in her wake. Her eyes noted all, this slight woman only had to let her stony glance rest for a brief moment on a rumpled sheet for a nurse to scuttle feverishly to work smoothing and straightening.
The evening ritual began,. Sister Lemon stalked around the outside of the ward rapping on any window that dared to show a sliver of light from within. The last curtain drawn we turned our attention to the babies stirring for their next feed.
Depite the terrible noise of the Pom Pom guns mothers and babies settled into a cocooned calm. On duty with me was Rosary, we were firm friends, her infectious laugh and broad irish brogue was used to great effect in the telling of âtall talesâ.
As I waited in the sluice room for water to boil Rosary rushed into the room. âVicky , I can hear something, come on, come quickâ she urgently whispered
She backed out of the room and swiftly pushed through the swing doors into thew ward. I crossly slouched after her muttering âOf course you can hear something you mad Irish woman, thereâs a war going on out thereâ. Her face assumed an expression of great patience âI mean I can hear something else, someone cryingâ she said.
Wearily I sat down at the desk âRosary, you are the most inventive and imaginative person I know, now please stop and make us both a cup of charâ.
She wouldnât let it drop âI can hear someone â she insisted.
I then foolishly uttered that phrase that should be avoided at all costs. In my defence I was young and apparently, stupid. âWell, what do you want me to do about it?â
Five minutes later I was outside the sturdy walls of the hospital, tin hat on my head precariously balanced atop of my nurses cap
The sky glowed red with fury. I could see buildings stark with flame and destruction. The noise was incredible. Every crash and strangled scream of tortured metal echoed through my body.Stretching out my hands I felt the roughness of the brickwork and the first window of the ward. I moved through the blackness, my stumbling progress briefly illuminated with harsh light from above only to plunge back into the blizzard of black. Carefully shuffling forward I felt something soft and squashy underfoot. Swallowing hard I bent down and felt with trembling fingers. As light burst above me , in that instant I saw I had a nurses white cap in my hand. Standing up I yelled âIs anyone here?â. A soft whimper from ground level, how on earth could that be?. I dropped to my hands and knees and crept towards the pathetic sound. My hands slipped away from me and I realised I was at the edge of a very large hole. I lay flat on the earth and called againâ HelloâŠcan you hear meâŠare you alright?â
An answering bleat came from the abyss below. âOh blimeyâ I thought âSister Lemon!â I pulled myself closer to the edge and yelled .âSisterâŠgrab my hand if you canâ. My hand thrashed in the darkness and made contact with something warm and alive. âCome on Sister help me, push against the sidesâ I griped cloth and flesh between my fingers and pulled, my other hand snaked down to to grab another handful. For one moment I felt my axis shift and I tipped down towards the deep blackness ânot bloody likely â I muttered and shook myself backwards like a terrier with a prize between itâs teeth. The noises around me were blotted out for those moments as we clawed for every inch, her body feeling havier and heavier as she slipped into unconsiousness. With my blood singing a shanty in my ears we rolled out onto the earth. Gasping with effort I began to giggle with relief. I stopped short as I felt the warm ooze of liquid slide down my arm under Sister Lemonâs head. âOh no you donâtâ I said to myself âNot after all that effortâ. The rush of adrenaline hit me again as I picked up the now still body. Staggering to the door I kicked it open and dropped through, clutching the battered body and yelling like a banshee for help.
Time slowed as nurses appeared from everywhere, a trolley arrived and I finally gave up my burden .
The next morning I joined the rest of the staff for breakfast at the long tables in the dining room.A flurry of nurses settled around Rosalee and I, brimming with giggles and news. âHave you heard the latest ?â asked Diana âThe Lemon fell down a ruddy great hole last night, a drain!â. Pausing between mouthfuls of porridge another nurse muttered â What damn fool pulled her out?â
Rosalee pointed with great glee at me and said âShe did!â
âDear Godâ said Diana âYou should have slammed the ruddy lid back on!â
Two days later I was summoned to Sister Lemonâs bedside. She lay propped against the pillows, her face and perfectly ironed sheets the same colour.
âSo, youâve come at last â she said âwell, come inâ I stood meekly at the foot of her bed, hands clasped in front , toes pointing forward , trying to appear at the very least, tidy.
She lifted her head âI have to thank you for saving my life nurseâ
Glancing down I replied âAnyone would have done the sameâ
A long silence, looking back up into her pale face with those bright fierce eyes I saw a flicker of humour as she said âYou know they wouldnâtâ
We exchanged a smile of understanding, I bobbed my head and left, quietly closing the door.
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