Fanny Goes to War | Page 4

the enemy who had
been left on the field without means of transport. There was a good deal
of discussion as to who were to be the rescued and who the rescuers.
Sergeant Wicks explained to all and sundry that her horse objected
strongly to anyone sitting on its tail and that it always bucked on these
occasions. No one seemed particularly anxious to be saved on that
steed, and my heart sank as her eye alighted on me. Being a new
member I felt it was probably a test, and when the inevitable question
was asked I murmured faintly I'd be delighted. I made my way to the
far end of the field with the others fervently hoping I shouldn't land on
my head.
At a given command the rescuers galloped up, wheeled round, and,
slipping the near foot from the stirrup, left it for the rescued to jump up
by. I was soon up and sitting directly behind the saddle with one foot in
the stirrup and a hand in Sergeant Wicks' belt. (Those of you who know
how slight she is can imagine my feeling of security!) Off we set with
every hope of reaching the post first, and I was just settling down to

enjoy myself when going over a little dip in the field two terrific bucks
landed us high in the air! Luckily I fell "soft," but as I picked myself up
I couldn't help wondering whether in some cases falling into the
enemy's hand might not be the lesser evil! I spent the next ten minutes
catching the "Bronco!" After that, we retired to our mess for tea, on the
old Union Jack, very ready for it after our efforts.
We had just turned in that night and drawn up the army blankets,
excessively scratchy they were too, when the bugle sounded for
everyone to turn out. (This was rather a favourite stunt of the C.O.'s.)
Luckily it was a bright moonlight night, and we learnt we were to make
for a certain hill, beyond Bisley, carrying with us stretchers and a tent
for an advanced dressing station. Subdued groans greeted this piece of
news, but we were soon lined up in groups of four--two in front, two
behind, and with two stretchers between the four. These were carried
on our shoulders for a certain distance, and at the command "Change
stretchers!" they were slipped down by our sides. This stunt had to be
executed very neatly and with precision, and woe betide anyone who
bungled it. It was ten o'clock when we reached Bisley Camp, and I
remember to this day the surprised look on the sentry's face, in the
moonlight, as we marched through. It was always a continual source of
wonderment to them that girls should do anything so much like hard
work for so-called amusement. That march seemed interminable--but
singing and whistling as we went along helped us tremendously. Little
did we think how this training would stand us in good stead during the
long days on active service that followed. At last a halt was called, and
luckily at this point there was a nice dry ditch into which we quickly
flopped with our backs to the hedge and our feet on the road. It made
an ideal armchair!
We resumed the march, and striking off the road came to a rough
clearing where the tent was already being erected by an advance party.
We were lined up and divided into groups, some as stretcher bearers,
some as "wounded," some as nurses to help the "doctor," etc. The
wounded were given slips of paper, on which their particular "wound"
was described, and told to go off and make themselves scarce, till they
were found and carried in (a coveted job). When they had selected nice

soft dry spots they lay down and had a quiet well-earned nap until the
stretcher bearers discovered them. Occasionally they were hard to find,
and a panting bearer would call out "I say, wounded, give a groan!" and
they were located. First Aid bandages were applied to the "wound" and,
if necessary, impromptu splints made from the trees near by. The
patient was then placed on the stretcher and taken back to the "dressing
station." "I'm slipping off the stretcher at this angle," she would
occasionally complain. "Shut up," the panting stretcher bearers would
reply, "you're unconscious!"
When all were brought in, places were changed, and the stretcher
bearers became the wounded and vice versa. We got rather tired of this
pastime about 12.30 but there was still another wounded to be brought
in. She had chosen the bottom of a heathery slope and took some
finding. It was the C.O. She feigned delirium and threw her arms about
in a wild manner. The poor