Diary of an A.R.P. Ambulance Driver - Trip to South Devon

This was an account my mother, Hilary Burges, who was an A.R.P. Ambulance Driver, wrote at the time of a trip she made to evacuate small children. She had two slightly different versions of this account in her papers, which were left to me after her death, and I have amalgamated the two as follows.

Bristol, Friday October 31st, 1941

The most attractive vehicle at our A.R.P. Depôt is an American Ambulance — a 30 h.p. left-hand-drive Chevrolet. At the moment it is chiefly used for evacuating small children from the badly blitzed districts to various Nursery Homes, which are scattered about the country.

I was delighted yesterday when I was asked to go to South Devon to-day — my delight was increased when I heard that Prue was to go with me. Prue is another Ambulance Driver, a charming girl. We thought that we were going in the Hillman but found that we were to be let loose with the American Ambulance. It was well-equipped with ground sheet, mattresses, blankets, cushions and an emergency tin of gas. Sharpie (nickname for one of our Transport Officers) came and saw us off, making quite sure that we knew which knob did which. We each drove going down to the Clinic and found that the gears were a bit noisy — however when it got warmed up it was easy to do the job quietly.

After a long delay we eventually got loaded up with 5 children, all under two, 2 attendants, babies’ gas-masks, bits of clean rag, various odd parcels etc. Loading operations were greatly assisted by a sensible, cheerful person called Molly McGarth. I wished she was coming with us but she said that Mr T (the man responsible at the Clinic for evacuation) would not let her go on long trips.

A great grumble because the children had no toys, and with great reluctance Sister B lent two bunnies on strict condition that they were returned safely. Young Alan — aged about 18 months — took a great fancy to Prue and insisted on sitting on her lap in front. His Mother had said that he always cried with strangers but Prue was marvellous with him; fortunately he was mechanically minded and took an intelligent interest in the fastening of the cubby-hole, that and looking at moo-cows kept him quiet and amused until he fell asleep.

Inside the Van conditions were not so good. Why the Nurses hadn’t procured mackintosh sheets, I can’t imagine. We were hardly clear of Bristol when the elder Nurse was violently “ill”. She put it down to the fumes from the petrol tin so we moved said tin to the Cabin. Next stop was at Paradise where I got a glass of water for the sick Nurse, as we stopped little Irenie followed her example. The nurse did at least aim straight but little Irenie was not so experienced — her clothes and a blanket suffered badly.

The children fell asleep and satisfactory progress was made until we were well past Bridgewater when the Nurse was ill again. We stopped and suggested that she sit in front but this she firmly refused to do. Of course every time we stopped the children woke up and started crying so we thought we’d better go full-steam ahead and let nature take its course.

The sun was shining, the roads were good and the Ambulance went perfectly. It sure is a lovely thing to drive, easy to handle and full of “zip”. Life was good and Prue and I just couldn’t help enjoying ourselves. We reached our destination safely, a lovely house looking across the estuary.

Matron had provided rabbit stew for lunch; unfortunately our Nurse was then feeling better and ate some — we had not seen the last of that rabbit stew!

After lunch we were shown over the house. It is a grand place and has accommodation for 25 small children. The children we had brought down all seemed happy and contented. Little Irenie looked fit enough and was playing happily with bricks.

Before starting off on our return journey we did what we could to the inside of the Ambulance, rolled up the more soiled blankets and scattered disinfectant around liberally.

Our next job was to leave a box of medicines at Whitestaunton Manor, about three miles from Chard. Our passengers curled up inside the Van and went to sleep. I did not know this and started singing (out of tune as usual). They did sleep through the saga of Paddy McGinty’s goat but the Bum song put an end to their post-prandial nap and I was not too popular. Prue drove and I had some practice at map-reading for there are no signposts anywhere now. We reached Whitestaunton; it is a lonely spot and the Sister seemed very pleased to see us (it is another of these Nursery Homes). The children are just recovering from whooping-cough.

Decided to take a cross-country route to Taunton which turned out to be more cross-country than I’d bargained, and it was more by good luck than judgement that we eventually got onto the correct main road. Had to stop once to get rid of aforesaid rabbit stew.

It was difficult to decide whether to stop for tea or not, but we thought that a few minutes rest while the Ambulance was stationary would not hurt the patient, and by this time we were in need of some refreshment. Stopped in a small town and asked a friendly policeman to keep an eye on the Ambulance.

On returning to the Ambulance we found that the Nurse had been dozing, but she looked pretty bad lying prostrate and was obviously having a tough time. Of course one felt sorry for the woman but she had volunteered for the job and why eat rabbit stew? A drive of 200 miles is an event these days and one likes to make the most of it.

Stopped at the Central Clinic to return the attendants and Sister B’s toy bunnies, and then we insisted on driving the Nurse home. She sat in front to direct us and felt much better sitting up.

Eventually returned to our Depôt about 8 o’clock and among other things reported that it would be necessary to clean the blankets!

Prue came home with me; it was pleasant to have a good wash and judicious use of my favourite perfume banished all unsavoury aromas from our nostrils!

Hilary T Burges

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