(Photo, Alfieri)
CHAPTER II
FIRST DAYS OF THE MILITARY HOSPITAL ENDELL STREET
The hospital was designed to accommodate five hundred and twenty cases, but it had not been open long before orders were received to put up as many extra beds as possible; and from 1916 onwards the number of beds was five hundred and seventy-three. Several auxiliary V.A.D. hospitals were attached to it at a later date, supplying another hundred and fifty beds. At times of pressure, when billeting of convalescent men was allowed, the numbers on the register approximated to eight hundred. Once the extra beds went up, they were not taken down again, and it was not until the summer of 1919 that any reduction was made.
There were seventeen wards, of which the three smaller ones in the south block were reserved for severe cases. They all had ample window space, and though the beds were closer than is usual or desirable in civilian hospitals, there was plenty of fresh air and light. The chilly whitewashed walls and gloomy brown blankets of Army hospitals seen in France were not forgotten, and great trouble was taken to make the Endell Street Hospital look gay and comfortable. Every ward had its flowers and its red and blue or scarlet blankets to give it colour, and its table and screen covers to give it an air of comfort. The electric lighting, as carried out by the R.E. in spite of demonstration and remonstrance, was hopeless; with only three or four single drop lights in the centre of a ward for thirty or forty men, no one in bed could see to read or play cards. An application for standard lights produced, after long correspondence and delay, only the scheduled number of thirty; and the lighting was not arranged satisfactorily until the St. Leonard’s School stepped in and sent one hundred and eighty standards for ward use. This generous gift made every one comfortable, and the necessity for drafting report after report, to support applications for more than the scheduled number of lamps, ceased.
The lifts were large enough to carry beds, and in fine weather it was usual to find rows of beds and wheel chairs in the square, which had been cleared of all the impedimenta and railings belonging to its workhouse past, and which made a pleasant general meeting ground. A large recreation room was available for wet days. At one end there was a small green-room and stage, which the Corps out of its own funds supplied with electric batons and curtains. The drop curtain was of saxe blue, with monogram ‘W.H.C.’ in black and orange, and the motto of the Corps, ‘Deeds not Words,’ was proudly mounted above the proscenium. This room also housed the library and billiard table.
The patients’ dining room was a somewhat gloomy place on the ground floor in the neighbourhood of the kitchen; but only the very convalescent descended to it at midday and spent there the few minutes which a soldier man requires for consuming a hearty meal. The more experienced Sisters had an ineradicable objection to not knowing what and how ‘their men’ ate, and persistently discountenanced the dining-hall.
On the ground floor of the south block the large windows of the pathological laboratory and the dispensary afforded those who worked inside a fine view of the square and prevented them from feeling cut off or isolated from the general life of the place. On the top were found two operating rooms and the X-ray room with its appurtenances, as well as accommodation for the dental surgeon. The ophthalmic surgeon worked up there too, in default of better quarters, adapting a passage and a corner of the dark room for the needs of her patients. In a building where there was not a corner to spare, and where people were constantly asking for ‘a room of my own,’ her uncomplaining consideration was much appreciated.
In every spare corner of the basements and ground floors, offices and store-rooms were crowded in. Above the quartermaster’s office and steward’s stores, three floors of cubicles were arranged as sleeping quarters for women orderlies; and for some unknown reason this part of the building was called the ‘Barracks.’ The Children’s Home housed the nursing sisters, and the Barracks and Guardians’ Offices were full to overflowing with girls. The old Receiving House near the gate was occupied by the R.A.M.C. The Master’s house, which had been built so as to command a good view of the square, provided offices and doctors’ room on the first floor and living rooms above for the resident doctors, the orderly officer, the matron and several other people. Every corner was occupied, and as the work or the needs of the hospital expanded, it was a puzzle to find room. As the years went on, it became necessary for additional quarters to be found outside for the nursing staff, and two houses in the neighbourhood were eventually rented and adapted for the use of the hospital. It is noteworthy that although the first report and request for further accommodation described this need as ‘very pressing,’ it took an entire year to get the first of these houses passed by the military authorities and the necessary business completed for opening it.
In naming the wards, it was convenient to follow the alphabetical order, and in the desire to call them after women the names of saints, with a few others, were chosen. Thus Ward ‘A’ was known as ‘St. Anne.’ ‘St. Barbara’ and ‘St. Catherine’ followed; and, with one or two omissions, the sequence continued down to ‘St. Veronica.’ ‘St. Ursula,’ the patron saint of young women, was included, and in order to cover the letter ‘O,’ ‘St. Onorio’ was invoked. She was afterwards found to be, not very appropriately, the patron saint of wet-nurses! But she served her ward well, for it was one of the happiest in the hospital. ‘St. Mary’ was unfortunate, and the ward never had very good luck until her name was changed to ‘St. Margaret.’ Rachel, in those tragic days of war, could not be omitted. Hildegarde, the famous medicine woman of the third century, and the martyred St. Felicitas were grouped with St. Geneviève of Paris and St. Isabella of Spain. The idea was picturesque, and the nomenclature pleased the staff, if it did not appeal much to the men. A bare little room in the basement was entitled the ‘Johnny Walker Ward,’ and was used as a place of recovery by his patrons and slaves.
Early in May the first return of available beds was made; for two blocks were ready for occupation and the third was nearly so. The delivery of certain things, such as dinner tins, wagons and knives and forks, was delayed, and promised to be delayed for months. With activity increasing in France, the opening of the hospital could not be postponed for such trifles, and the resourceful quartermaster arranged to hire what was needful for a month. The staff was called up and settled down in its quarters; the rows of beds were got ready; the stock bottles and cupboards were filled; the instruments and apparatus were issued on charge to the Sisters; the kitchen plant was in order. Though not yet completely equipped, it was possible to inform Headquarters that Endell Street was ready to open.