Other formats

    TEI XML file   ePub eBook file  

Connect

    mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

Shovel Sword and Scalpel: A record of service of medical units of the second New Zealand expeditionary force in the Pacific

Chapter Eight — 2nd NZ Convalescent Depot and Kalavere Hospital

Chapter Eight
2nd NZ Convalescent Depot and Kalavere Hospital

page 150

I
Preliminaries to Active Service

The Con Depot was born at Papakura Military Camp on 28 March, 1943, without the aid of even one medical officer; a hybrid medical unit destined to be staffed mainly by members of the infantry corps. We were housed in E block, but even that muddy and coldly unsympathetic environment failed to dishearten those of us who were pioneering this mystery unit. Our war establishment had been based on that of a similar British unit, but we had yet to learn that it would demand many changes and modifications. It was some weeks before a commanding officer was appointed, but the provisional adjutant, Captain W. Mackie, assisted by the officers, commenced a careful selection of staff from NZEF reinforcements then in camp, and so the formation of the 2nd NZ Convalescent Depot gradually took shape.

Still with only vague ideas of our future duties, the newly-selected personnel enthusiastically organised raffles and invited donations for the purchase of sports equipment. The nucleus of a library was collected and musical instruments commandeered. Although we were subsequently well provided with all these requirements from official sources, this initial effort did far more than merely gather equipment, for it fostered and developed a real unit spirit which was to prove such an invaluable asset, both during our period of training in New Zealand and page 151later, when we commenced service with the Third Division in the Pacific.

On 25 May we were ordered to move to Trentham. This was a false alarm to many of the staff, as rumour indicated that we were at last 'on the way.' We were not sorry to be leaving E block, which lacked the amenities of other parts of the camp, and it was a grand excuse for levity and celebration. We packed until a late hour on the night prior to our departure, but this did not preclude an occasional adjournment to revive flagging spirits.

The wisdom of our move to Trentham was soon apparent. First, we were able to take full advantage of specialist training for all members of the staff. Second, we were on the spot to contact the authorities directly responsible for our war establishment and the issue of unit equipment, which was, by this time, assuming large proportions. Much might be recorded of our stay at Trentham. As so often happens, we were not expected there on the day of our arrival owing to some hitch in the paper warfare. However, the other ranks were quartered under the grandstand on the racecourse, while the officers were provided with morning tea in one block, lunch in another, afternoon tea in a third, and finally took root in a fourth. Still, as someone wisely remarked, they were paid for it. Subsequently we were allotted huts and stores in the No. 3 Training Battalion area, and there we remained while at Trentham.

It was not until early in June that Lieutenant-Colonel J. H. H. Wood, NZMC, was appointed commanding officer of the depot. Lieutenant-Colonel Wood had first conceived the idea of remedial training when men of the first and second echelons were being mobilised at Papakura, and, as senior medical officer of the camp, he had devised a course of treatment which had enabled a large percentage of previously unfit men to proceed overseas. He later established similar training at the Remedial Camp, Rotorua, and carried on the work of turning out healthier soldiers and citizens. When he joined us his enthusiasm for the new task ahead proved infectious, and we soon became ardent disciples in the quest for physical fitness.

The stack of carefully numbered cases in our store grew in direct relation to the frequent Wellington visits of the commanding officer and the quartermaster, Lieutenant S. H. Williams— the latter as ever 'happy in his work.' The other ranks became page 152involved in duties on the Wellington wharves as their training courses finished—a novelty that soon wore off when they discovered that they were waterside workers without their pay and privileges, for at that time no provision had been made to allow soldiers additional pay when engaged on such work.

We were brought up to strength at Trentham, a number of appointments being filled from the remedial camp staff. Strangely enough our inadequate war establishment provided for as many padres as medical officers—an unintentional reflection we hope— but all vacancies were filled eventually, with the exception of the three padres. At last, after the usual run of embarkation rumours and an additional final leave, we bade a joyous farewell to Trentham on 19 August 1943. It was a typically drizzly Trentham day for our departure, but that did not dampen our spirit, and the resounding chorus of men's lusty voices raised in song brought the local residents to their doors as we marched to the railway station.

We negotiated the steep gangway of the USS Tryon at Auckland on Friday morning, 20 August 1943, and, apart from the loss of a steel helmet, which Sergeant-Major Norm Boyce donated to the Harbour Board, embarkation was safely completed by midday. We sailed the following morning. Our quarters were good and the trip was a happy one, which passed all too quickly, for, after the inevitable last minute rush associated with our departure, it came as a welcome break from responsibilities and duties.

Monday evening found us in Noumea Harbour, with ample evidence of allied naval might around us, and early on Tuesday morning we transferred our belongings and ourselves to the barges, which conveyed us to the landing. Then followed what seemed to be the longest, dustiest, craziest, most hair-raising journey ever to be inflicted on the uninitiated. We did learn afterwards that the dust was inevitable and the drivers were experienced, but, even with these known factors, that ride on the back of an open six-by-four truck left much to be desired.

page break
The Governor-General of New Zealand, Marshal of the koyal Air Force Sir Cyril New ALL l, watches a physical training class at the 2nd Convalescent Depot, m New Caledonia. Occupational therapy proved a most valuable aid in refitting sick and wounded" for return to active duty. Below is a class in progress in the arts and crafts bare at the convalescent depot

The Governor-General of New Zealand, Marshal of the koyal Air Force Sir Cyril New ALL l, watches a physical training class at the 2nd Convalescent Depot, m New Caledonia. Occupational therapy proved a most valuable aid in refitting sick and wounded" for return to active duty. Below is a class in progress in the arts and crafts bare at the convalescent depot

page break
This well-appointed kitchen at Kalavere Hospital, Now calcdonia, is a distinct contrast to that of the 4th MAC at Moindah. Below is a picture of the administrative block of the 2nd Convalesceul Depot and Kalavere Hospital, taken before the Division returned to New Zealand from the Pacific

This well-appointed kitchen at Kalavere Hospital, Now calcdonia, is a distinct contrast to that of the 4th MAC at Moindah. Below is a picture of the administrative block of the 2nd Convalesceul Depot and Kalavere Hospital, taken before the Division returned to New Zealand from the Pacific

page break
Americans bequeathed the concrete floor, New Zealanders Luili the niaouli framework and native Kanakas thatched the roof of this recreation hut al the 2nd Convalescent Depot. Below is a glimpse of the lagoon at Nissan Island with some of the small craft in which the men spent a great part of their leisure when active operations 'had ceased

Americans bequeathed the concrete floor, New Zealanders Luili the niaouli framework and native Kanakas thatched the roof of this recreation hut al the 2nd Convalescent Depot. Below is a glimpse of the lagoon at Nissan Island with some of the small craft in which the men spent a great part of their leisure when active operations 'had ceased

page break
Tanges of thick vines hound together the dam trees and fleshy undergrowth on Nissan. This photograph indicates dearly the density ol the jungle in which the New Zealanders erected their tents and set to work to make their camps

Tanges of thick vines hound together the dam trees and fleshy undergrowth on Nissan. This photograph indicates dearly the density ol the jungle in which the New Zealanders erected their tents and set to work to make their camps

page 153

II
The Gonde Roadhouse

Upon arrival at the Base Reception Depot, Bourail, Lieutenant-Colonel Wood intimated that we were prepared and anxious to commence our duties as soon as possible; and four days later we moved on to the site of the Gonde roadhouse on the Houailou Road. This had been used as a rest centre for several weeks, and 76 convalescents were awaiting us. We lost no time in putting our house in order; tents were erected, orderly rooms established, drains constructed, and a training syllabus issued. Five days after our arrival in New Caledonia we were functioning according to plan. Then the rains came. Luckily we had sufficient accommodation, but we did seem to get more than our fair share of wet weather during our short stay in the Houailou area. Gond'e is a pleasant spot, situated in a valley at the junction of two rivers. Coconut palms predominate on the landscape, and it is reasonably free from mosquitoes; in fact, if there had been sufficient room for expansion and development we could have done much worse than remain there. A large bure, or native type hut, had been constructed to provide messing and recreational facilities—when first built it was probably one of the largest on the island—and it gave us excellent shelter during the indifferent weather. We staged several concerts in the bure —commencing with one the night of our arrival—and in addition to the camp personnel there was usually a large and appreciative audience of Kanakas from the native village across the river. They proved a friendly people, often bringing us fruit and vegetables, and we saw a good deal of them during our brief sojourn. One of their number, an albino, excited much comment because of her appearance, and Lieutenant Williams, our blond quartermaster, suffered many indignities on account of the same lady.

In these early days our work was limited owing to the non-arrival of our equipment, but under the training officer, Lieutenant G. McA. Hobson, the patients were organised into categories for remedial physical training, recreational games, launch trips and outings. A library and canteen were opened, and the first issue of our unit magazine, Relax, made its appearance under the editorship of Lieutenant E. G. Spraggon, Army Educational page 154Welfare Service and occupational therapy officer. After only three weeks at Gonde we received instructions to move to Kalavere, on the western side of the island. The American 109th General Hospital had been located there, and Lieutenant P. T. B. Morris was sent in charge of an advanced party to prepare the site for our occupation. He did this with characteristic thoroughness, and the changeover was completed by Saturday, 18 September, 1943. We left Gonde with many happy memories.

III
Kalavere

Any hopes that our American friends might have discarded a few odds and ends before they vacated Kalavere were soon dispelled when we came to take stock of our new home. The native population for miles around had scavenged the area long before our arrival, so all that we gained was a number of large concrete blocks, which had been laid down as floors, and about 12 or 15 thatched bares, each about the size of a beach cottage and capable of housing four people. These were allocated to the officers and sisters, who remained in them even when huts subsequently became available.

So much happened during those early days at Kalavere that it is difficult to crowd it into these few pages and retain a correct perspective. The scene was one of intense activity as we strove to establish our depot and look to the welfare of nearly 100 patients. Ever since the inception of the unit the theme of 'Patients first' had been preached to the staff, and it became much more than a catch phrase or lip service slogan. All worked unstintingly as expedience demanded; there were tents to be erected, drains to be dug, trucks unloaded—sometimes in the middle of the night; equipment stored, medical services to be maintained—including a modest 10-bed hospital under Sister M. E. Burke—and last, but by no means least, a permanent layout for our camp had to be planned and finalised. Major S. E. West, NZE, was a frequent visitor, and under his guidance the engineers commenced work clearing niaouli trees, levelling for foundations, forming roads and installing drainage and a septic tank sewerage page 155system. Captain J. S. Beresford, NZDC, opened up his dental section, and, with an ingenuity reminiscent of Heath Robinson, contrived to rig up some very serviceable appliances. Sister J. M. McKellar commandeered a trestle table and small tent in which to commence massage, and Captain W. S. Wood hung up his sign outside the regimental aid post. Lieutenant R. Cato was kept busy in the role of transport officer, especially so since nearly every request for a vehicle was classified as urgent. Irrespective of rank or appointment each man was a labourer in those days, and Lieutenant-Colonel Wood, more often than not stripped to the waist, was no exception to the rule. As our camp rose up midst the niaoulis we felt something of that pioneering spirit of old.that prompted our forefathers to cut their homes out of the bush.

The next excitement was the arrival of 10 Women's Army Auxiliary Corps personnel from New Zealand—the ultimate establishment provided for 39 in all. White womenfolk were still something of a novelty, especially to those of our patients who had returned from the northern areas, and the new girls were the cynosure of all eyes. Everything possible had been prepared for their comfort, and three small bures were set apart for their quarters. Arriving as they did in the midst of camp construction, they are deserving of the highest praise for the manner in which they quickly adapted themselves to their new surroundings. Laundry and ablutions were performed in the stream—a muddy torrent after any rain—while candles and hurricane lamps were their only lights at night. Clarice Riley was the senior NCO, and with Marcel Hartnett took over orderly room duties. Tris Wang-ford quickened more than one male pulse as the quartermaster's righthand 'man,' and Noeline Thoreau quickly mastered dollars and cents as the 'Canteen Cutie.' Marion Ramsay, Hazel McDonald, Noel Brodie, Helen Dahl, Eileen Graham, and Maxie Duncan all wore the Red Cross emblem that distinguished them as VAD's. Much has been stated loosely from time to time concerning the desirability or otherwise of sending girls overseas in the armed forces, but if the experience of this unit can be taken as any guide then these girls, and those who joined them at a later date, did an excellent job of work and one can only speak in terms of unstinting praise.

Our recreation hut was beginning to take shape, but, although the framework was completed in October, we were obliged to page 156await native labour to complete the thatching. Hut parts were arriving, and the first prefabricated hut was erected to house the unit canteen. It was early in this month that the officer in charge administration, Brigadier W. W. Dove, CBE, MC, asked us to provide a programme on the occasion of the official opening of the Bourail Club. This gave us only little more than three weeks for preparation, but, nothing daunted, we set to work. Rehearsals commenced on Splitzkreig III, so named because most of the items were reproduced by Lieutenant Spraggon from a previous production of that title in New Zealand. The show proved an immediate hit, and, after two performances at the club, we visited several other units, giving a total of seven performances in all. Humour with whirlwind speed was the keynote of the programme, and it took the form of a sparkling revue. The Waacs appeared in a much-discussed Eastern ballet, but 'The Angels' probably created the greatest impression when many wellknown personalities were introduced. To quote one verse:—

Brigadier Dove
Went in his car one day,
He forgot the speed restrictions,
And his auto hit a dray!

There's another little red cap on the sideboard,
And a dozen mourning colonels standing by,
There's a hundred thousand angels shouting 'OICA'
Getting Admin Orders in the sky.

Lieutenant-Colonel Wood was always an advocate of entertainment in the unit, and in this, as well as all other camp activities, the patients were encouraged to participate as much as possible. Two-thirds of the personnel in Splitzkreig were convalescents.

With the assistance of sisters, Waacs and sometimes French girls from Bourail we were now able to hold occasional dances. We had an excellent dance orchestra, under the baton of Captain Wood, and our floor consisted of two of the concrete blocks, bequeathed us by the Americans, and which shone like mirrors after a generous application of candle grease. Coloured hurricane lamps provided festive illumination, and the quartermaster could always be relied upon to find something better than 'spam' for page 157supper. Owing to the comparatively small number of girls available a rationing system had to be introduced, and the patients were allowed one evening, the staff other ranks another, then the sergeants, and lastly the officers. These functions were called formal dances, and the girls wore their attractive white uniforms. We also ran weekly dances, when the number of girls increased, but these were of an informal nature and were intended principally for the patients.

IV
The Organisation and Work of a Convalescent Depot

By this time the number of patients, both in the convalescent depot and hospital, was showing a steady increase. As there was a possibility of a large number of battle casualties and malaria cases from the division to be catered for, the deputy director of medical services decided to expand our hospital to 150 beds to provide hospital services for the base area and thus to leave the 4th General Hospital at Noumea free to care for divisional casualties.

Shortly after our arrival at Kalavere we had erected hospital expanding tents as wards, each capable of accommodating 20 beds, and, by the end of November, two of these were in use. Medical cases from nearby camps were admitted to us, but surgical cases were still sent to the general hospital rear detachment at Boguen, some 30 miles away. We had by now admitted our first divisional casualties to the convalescent depot, and our plans for aiding the recovery of combat troops suffering from the effects of wounds, tropical diseases, and illnesses which were often more nervous or mental rather than physical, were being thoroughly tested.

While it was essential that adequate control should be exercised over patients in the depot, we dispensed with unnecessary regimentation as far as possible. After all, our principal job in life was to turn out fit bodies, and our training was so designed that it should not impose a mental burden on a patient already suffering a physical disability. A detailed procedure for admission of patients had been planned before we left New Zealand. page 158and experience proved that this required little or no modification. New admissions arrived by ambulance in batches of up to -30 at a time, and were immediately taken to their tents, where they were allotted beds—each with a mattress and pillow. This latter detail may appear unimportant, but it was much appreciated by men who had not completely recovered from illness or injury. After depositing their belongings, they were taken to the admission and discharge office for registration, and each man was then questioned and examined by the duty medical officer, who placed him, according to his condition, in one of four categories for remedial training. Next followed a chat by the occupational therapy officer, who outlined the activities available to convalescents during their stay in the depot, and, from there, Sergeant-Major Jack Lilley or Staff-Sergeant Ted Clothier detailed the men to their various squads and answered any questions regarding their physical training. Those who were short of clothing were given an opportunity of visiting the quartermaster's store, and Captain Beresford carried out routine dental examinations.

Lieutenants Hobson and Morris administered the specialised physical training, and under them was a staff of sergeant instructors, all of whom had had experience of similar work in New-Zealand. Each category was divided into squads formed of those suffering from the same type of disability, and in this way a useful competitive spirit between patients was introduced, the men rivalling one another to see who could first perform an exercise. In the early stages exercises were gentle in character and in some cases actually assisted, though here again it was better to encourage a patient to assist himself rather than to rely on others. As he improved the exercises were made more difficult and strenuous, until he came to take a real pride in performing them correctly—thus taking the fullest possible interest in his own cure.

Organised games had a valuable place in the training syllabus, for not only do they provide good recreation and promote general physical wellbeing, but they help to develop freedom and spontaneity of movement, making the patient forget his injury in the excitement of the game. We were fortunate in having an excellent swimming pool and reasonably large recreation areas, so that almost every kind of outdoor sport which was not too violent could be introduced. Swimming, baseball, basket – page 159ball, cricket, softball, medicine ball were all most useful games. Cycling was very popular, especially with patients from the Fiji Military Forces, and some 30 bicycles were set aside for this purpose. Archery had many keen followers, while short hikes, beach trips, and fishing expeditions were all part and parcel of the syllabus designed to create healthy bodies. Before a man was finally passed as fit for discharge to his unit he had to participate in training as strenuous as the duties expected of him on his return—route marches, cross-country running and climbing, all complete with normal equipment.

The physical training instructors, seven in all, were each specialists in one particular branch. Norm Good looked after the upper limb and plaster cases, Dave Buick was responsible for the lower limb and foot corrective exercises. Pete McNeillie's squad included post-operational and abdominal cases. Warrie Pile specialised in advanced lower limb and foot corrective training. Colin Rae and Jack Bramwell took general physical training, which consisted mainly of toning up exercises and more strenuous work for patients graduating from a lower category; and, finally, Ted Clothier conducted the rigorous training usually given to patients prior to their discharge—unarmed combat, hill climbing, route marching, and advanced gymnastics. All instructors made individual reports to the medical officers on the progress of convalescents under their control.

No patient, however, can keep on doing exercises all day long without becoming bored and his muscles over-tired, and it was here that occupational therapy proved such a valuable asset, for it provided mental diversion and the medium for remedial exercise at one and the same time. By the beginning of December, 1943, the arts and crafts hut, metal workshop and carpenters' workshop were the basis of our occupational therapy department, under Lieutenant Spraggon. In the arts and crafts hut men made leather bags, purses, moccasins, writing cases, belts and many other useful personal articles; also toys in felt and a variety of attractive reproductions in papier mache. Those interested in painting, sketching or signwriting were also accommodated in this hut—in other words, it was devoted to the quieter type of handicraft. Other patients spent many happy hours in the metal workshop; in fact, sometimes one had to persuade them to stop when 'lights out' drew near. The methods of forming page 160and decorating metal require neither excessive muscular effort nor special ability, and men thoroughly enjoyed making picture frames, rings, ash-trays, inkwells, and the like from salvaged • shell cases and duralium. We managed to secure part of a crashed aeroplane, and the metal from this provided material for literally hundreds of articles. In the carpenters' workshop Corporal Caiman and, later, Corporal George Aiken, instructed classes, as well as attending to the many demands that normally fall on a camp carpenter. Patients were allowed to make furniture for their tents or work on small articles, but owing to the formidable list of camp furnishings required, the majority were quite happy to assist on camp jobs. Another addition to the occupational therapy group about this time was a gardening class, and, to any men who enjoyed pottering about in a garden, this was an excellent pastime. Corporal Murray Orr, one of the patients, took a personal interest in this group, and his efforts were reflected in the attractive layout of the grounds in the vicinity of the new recreation hut and arts and crafts bure.

Although men were allowed a reasonable choice when placed in a branch of the occupational therapy department it was sometimes necessary, for the benefit of a particular disability, to 'sell' a patient the idea. This was the subject of close cooperation by the medical officers, training staff, and occupational therapy Officer; in cases of special interest a review was made by the commanding officer each week. Each man automatically came up for review by the duty medical officer once a week, and upon that examination rested his category classification. In addition to this routine examination, the medical officers spent as much time as possible with the convalescents during training hours, and so were able to make immediate corrections in treatment if necessary.

We endeavoured to provide relaxation in the form of some class of entertainment each evening. Film programmes were screened twice or three times weekly, and every Sunday night there was a 'sing-song' in the recreation hut, followed by an open forum or discussion—not always on a religious subject. On the remaining evenings there were concerts, dances, debates, quiz sessions, the ever-popular 'housie' game, table tennis contests, card tournaments, mock parliaments, community sings, and lectures on a wide range of topics.

page 161

Every facility was given to those who were anxious, to further interrupted studies. The AEWS officer was able to advise regarding courses, supply details of possible rehabilitation assistance, and provide the opportunity for quiet study in the arts and crafts hut each evening. When it was found that there were groups of men interested in the same subject an effort was made to locate an instructor and form a class. Students from nearby camps were also welcome to join any of the groups. For example, there were classes in French, pianoforte, theory and harmony of music, shorthand and typing, art, radio, book-keeping, play reading and dramatic art, and also a farmers' club. A patient could study during occupational therapy periods in special circumstances.

General camp facilities were good. The conventional barber's pole sign indicated Dick Heise's hairdressing salon, where one could receive tonsorial service for the modest sum of 10 cents. Sergeant Colin Rae devoted an hour each evening to the camp library, which was temporarily housed in the canteen, and Padre A. H. Lowden kept a fatherly eye on the evening supper arrangements as well as ministering to our spiritual needs. The post office occupied a tent in the administrative group, and Corporal Ralph Settle's popularity often depended on the regularity of our inward mail on Friday of each week. The unit canteen was always a constant source of interest, thanks to the American supplies, and a wide range of commodities could be purchased at a fraction of their normal New Zealand retail value. Cigarettes, cigars, chocolate, toilet requisites, beer, magazines, and sometimes fountain pens and towels, were only a few of the lines that found a ready sale. Sergeant Harry Thomas, better known as the 'pay wallah,' shared a tent with the telephone exchange, and Staff-Sergeant Syd Marris ruled the admission and discharge office, with 'Snips' Parsonson as an able assistant. Sergeant-Major Norm Boyce, Sergeant Bryan Kingston, and Private Murray Fountain were the male members of the camp orderly room staff, and, in addition to their routine duties, were always willing helpers in camp entertainment.

page 162

V
Development

The engineers commenced work on the erection of prefabricated huts about the middle of November, and eight huts were completed in time for occupation on the 25th, when five more girls joined us to take over duties which had previously been carried out by men. Needless to say, the new girls were welcomed by the men at our social functions, as another five girls meant that the rationing system could be relaxed sufficiently to allow of the attendance of an additional 10 men at each dance.

Two committees were set up early in December, one to make the necessary plans for our Christmas dinner, and the other to organise a dance for the Moindah area to follow the races which had been planned for New Year's Day. A tentative menu was approved, and, with the assistance of the quartermaster and canteen officer, extras were begged, borrowed or 'acquired.' We had to make provision for a representative attendance at our dance from all units in the area; this seemed reasonable enough, as we had a monopoly of an excellent dance floor, orchestra, and, last but most important of all, the girls.

At this time of the year we were beginning to feel just how hot a New Caledonian mid-summer day can be, and temperatures over the three-figure mark were being registered in the shade. The cool stream that flowed through the camp provided the most effective means of refreshing oneself at the close of a hard day's work, and it was customary for officers, sisters, Waacs and men to retire to their respective swimming pools before mess each evening to indulge in a quick dip.

One of our Christmas surprises was the arrival of a further 18 Waacs, giving us a total of 33 in all. The weather for Christmas Day was glorious, and, thanks to the efforts of Margaret Bunting, Kay Beveridge, and Sergeant-Major Win Yardley and their assistants, the table bore a festive appearance that could scarcely have been challenged anywhere in New Zealand, even in the piping days of peace. For this occasion the Waacs dined with the men, being judiciously spaced to ensure the best 'coverage.' In accordance with the customary army page 163tradition, the officers, clad in white coats, aprons and chefs' hats, served the meal. Turkey, green peas, roast potatoes and kumeras, followed by fruit salad and ice cream, made an excellent meal, which was a credit to Sergeant McNamara and his capable cooks. Later in the afternoon all those who were musically inclined adjourned to the hospital wards and as there were no patients seriously ill, Christmas celebrations continued to the accompaniment of Captain Wood's violin, Warrie Pile's saxaphone, and George Bullen's accordion. An informal dance in the evening concluded a happy day for all and compensated in a small measure for the absence from home and loved ones.

On New Year's Eve we provided a concert party to perform at a combined function at the Bourail Club. Side shows, a dance, concert and films were amongst the attractions. Our part in the programme ended at half-past nine, and then we were free to join in the other festivities until after midnight. A Con Depot sheet was found at the top of the Bourail Camp flagpole the next morning, but we disclaimed any knowledge of the crime—after all, we would scarcely have used our own sheet!

All who could be spared from camp attended the New Year's Day meeting of the Moindah Racing Club. We entered several horses, notably 'Indiscretion, by Waac out of Bounds,' 'Fitness, by Soldier out of Kalavere,' 'Convalescent, by Patient out of Sorts.' New Year's night dance was a great success, and approximately 250 people attended. We had invited sisters and Waacs from other units, and, with those of our own staff, there were 75 present. The New Year had had an auspicious beginning, and we were all feeling the benefit from our relaxation. The commanding officer called a meeting of staff officers on the morning of 3 January, and plans were formulated for our future work—it was almost like a series of New Year resolutions. Lieutenant-Colonel Wood was his usual vigorous self, and little did we think that this would be the last occasion that he would preside at our conferences. The following day he took ill, and on Friday, the 7th, his condition deteriorated, and he was admitted to Boguen Hospital, where he passed away on the following Thursday, 13 January, 1944. He was buried the next day at the NZEFIP cemetery, and a memorial service, attended by General Barrowclough, was held at Kalavere the following Sunday morning.

page 164

We were stunned by our loss. 'Timber,' as he was affectionately known to his intimates, had endeared himself to all, and to quote from a memorial number of Relax:—'… His dynamic, personality and genial presence has been the guiding hand of our unit, and to him must go the credit for a success which is of social as well as military importance…. His remarkable vision and clear conception of all that was required, combined with outstanding organising ability, quickly moulded the unit into an active body, capable of taking its place wherever circumstances might dictate…. He was a man who not only enjoyed living, but lived for others that they might enjoy it too. His personality, his thoughts, his hopes, will continue to be expressed in the work of the unit…. Such a spirit can never die.'

Our new commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel F. O. Bennett, NZMC, came to us from the 22nd Field Ambulance, and he brought with him a first-hand knowledge of conditions in the forward area. He assumed command at a time when we were developing into a very large unit; our patients were increasing in number each week, the hospital was growing, camp construction was proceeding apace, and many decisions had to be made concerning the erection of prefabricated buildings. Five days after his arrival we were instructed to take over the 50-bed hospital at Boguen, which had been staffed by 4th NZ General Hospital up to this time, and, until facilities would be available at Kalavere, we were to maintain Boguen with a detachment from our own unit. Despite all those factors Lieutenant-Colonel Bennett quickly adapted himself to his new responsibilities and participated in as many of the camp activities as his duties permitted. He was keenly interested in occupational therapy, and this department benefited from his personal knowledge and conception of the possibilities that could be developed from this relatively new branch of therapy.

Our unit was responsible for medical services extending over a wide area, from the engineers' camp, seven miles south, to Nepoui, about 30 miles north, and Captain W. F. McConnell made bi-weekly visits to conduct sick parades at each camp en route. We were also called upon to give medical and dental treatment to civilians, and a number of French, Javanese, Tonkinese, and native Kanakas were hospitalised. Language differences were a problem, but even those of us who had not had page 165the advantages of a secondary school education in French managed to pick up sufficient to cope with emergencies.

An unfortunate accident occurred at the end of January when Marcel Hartnett lost her life in a motor accident. Marcel was extremely popular and a very willing worker in all unit activities, and her cheerful presence was missed in the orderly room.

Captain Beresford, our dentist, was transferred to Noumea about the middle of February, and Captain H. G. Simpson replaced him. We were all sorry to see the former go; he had accompanied us from New Zealand, and was a willing conspirator at all times. It is recorded that a patient, writing home, told his correspondent that he had had dental treatment that day, and, to quote his own words, 'The dentist approached me with a manner that would have cost me 10 guineas in civilian life.'

Captain F. N. Sharpe was medical officer in charge of the Boguen Hospital detachment, and Lieutenant-Colonel Bennett paid bi-weekly visits. Our own hospital buildings were now beginning to take shape, and the main block of two 60-bed wards, together with the main theatre block, were nearing completion. A tribute must be paid to the engineers for the thoroughness with which they went about their job. Undoubtedly we cursed the noise and dust of the bulldozers and growled about the muddy roads after rain, but this inconvenience was only temporary, and, despite many changes in the original plan, they worked against time to have the hospital ready for occupation on Tuesday, 7 March, 1944.

The title of our unit was now officially changed to '2nd NZ Convalescent Depot and Kalavere Hospital,' and Boguen Hospital was closed, enabling our staff to return. Charge-Sister W. M. Gunn assumed the duties of matron, and Sisters L. M. Jenkins, E. A. Turner, J. A. Popple, H. Campbell, J. Middleton, V. H. Bray, and N. Hickey joined Sisters McKellar and Joan Horrocks, who had been with us some time. Captain Sharpe became surgeon, and Lieutenant G. L. Wolland hospital registrar. In effect Kalavere Hospital was now a small general hospital in everything but name. One 60-bed ward of two wings was devoted to medical cases, another to surgical, while a 16-bed ward intended for women was nearing completion. A week after opening we had 70 patients, and this figure steadily increased to the three-figure mark by the end of March. Sister page 166McKellar, who had been joined by Sister Jean Menzies, moved into the new physiotherapy department in the main theatre block, and this was equipped with electrotherapy apparatus, weight-lifting devices, a roller training bicycle, wall bars, and six massage tables. In the same block Sergeant H. M. Guy was in charge of a modern X-ray plant, and Staff-Sergeant H. R. Thomson, assisted by Private Helen Dahl, staffed the laboratory. Sister Heather Campbell and Sergeant Marion Ramsay were appointed to the theatre, which would have been a credit to any modern hospital. Four more VADs arrived on 13 March, 1944, and our female nursing staff now numbered 11 sisters and 15 VADs.

Our occupational therapy department had shown a steady expansion since the beginning of the year. Myrtle Cronk commenced work in the arts and crafts hut, and, with her cheerful disposition, soon became a favourite with the convalescents; in fact, 'Moyt,' as the boys called her, exercised more authority than any 'stripes ' could have bestowed upon her. Two new branches were now added to the department. The first was an auto-engineering class, with Sergeant Miles as instructor. A motor vehicle had been 'written off' for this purpose, and two classes were taken each week for instruction on the petrol engine. The second innovation was the household services section, which arose from a suggestion by Lieutenant-Colonel Bennett, and was designed to meet the case of a man who lacked interest in handicraft. In this section a man was taught by Inspector Frank Peak how to mend an electric light fuse, replace a worn washer on a tap, and the rudiments of glass cutting, soldering, plastering, glueing, and simple joinery—in fact, all the useful tasks that may fall to any householders. It was dubbed 'The Young Husbands' Club 'and proved very popular. Those who remember the metal workshop will recall the conscientious guidance of Ron Ashby as instructor. Ron was a very willing worker, with a strongly developed mechanical sense which enabled him to locate faults in anything from a refrigerator to a power generator. None the less enthusiastic were his successors, Alan Bowes and 'Lofty' Beard.

A ball was held on the evening of Friday, 24 March, 1944, to mark the first anniversary of the unit. The function was held in the new mess block, which was nearing completion but not yet in occupation. Captain Beresford, a welcome visitor from page 167Noumea, capably filled the role of master of ceremonies. The function was preceded by formal mess for officers and sisters, and, by pure coincidence, the orchestra which was practising nearby played a prolonged chord at the precise moment that the loyal toast was proposed. There was an embarrassing pause for a few seconds before it was known whether the National Anthem was to be played or not, and when the orchestra broke into ragtime the decorum of the gathering was somewhat shaken. A display of work from the occupational therapy department was organised in conjunction with the ball, and the exhibits included a wide range of articles from each branch of the handicrafts section. The display created a very favourable impression and reflected credit on the skill of patients and instructors alike. We farewelled our adjutant, Captain Mackie, a few days before the ball. He had been with the depot since its inception and we were sorry to see him go. He was replaced by Lieutenant Cato, formerly duty officer.

The improvisation of tents and open cookhouse was discarded in April, when we occupied our new block containing separate messes for officers, sisters, Waacs, sergeants, staff other ranks, convalescents and attached personnel. This was civilisation indeed, and the facilities were excellent. The improvements might have been classed as unnecessary luxuries by some, but as a useful contribution to the rehabilitation of the unfit there was absolute justification. We moved into the new administrative block later in the month, and this housed all administrative offices under one roof. This completed the erection of prefabricated buildings, with the exception of two more hospital wards, a gymnasium, and the Waacs' recreation room.

VI
Decline

Another race meeting was held at Moindah on Easter Monday, when large numbers of patients and staff attended, but the news that dwarfed all else to insignificance was the announcement by Lieutenant-Colonel Bennett in the recreation hut on Easter Sunday night of the proposed release of volunteers to essential page 168industry in New Zealand. This change of policy altered the whole aspect of our work. Whereas we had previously been engaged in bringing men to a peak of physical fitness to withstand the rigours of active service conditions, we became now little more than a transit camp, often discharging men as soon as they were fit to travel. Our training was revised accordingly, and greater stress placed on the activities of the occupational therapy department. An additional burden was placed on medical officers, as all returning personnel had to be medically boarded and X-rayed—often at very short notice. Many of the staff elected to return to New Zealand to engage in one or other of the essential industries, and one of the first to depart was Lieutenant Morris, a farmer in civil life, whose farewell party will be long remembered. His place was filled by Lieutenant D. T. Scholium, a former patient, who marched in at the end of April.

During April Major G. A. Myers replaced Captain Sharpe as surgeon, and four additional sisters joined the staff. Sergeant M. Gibbs, NZWAAC, replaced Staff-Sergeant Thomson in the laboratory, and three more Waacs arrived from New Zealand. We now had a total of 40 Waacs and Second-Subaltern Pat Mason as Waac officer. Miss Mason assisted with duties in the pay office in addition to her administrative work.

Kalavere was the venue of our one and only wedding, when the marriage of Sister Janet Middleton and Lieutenant W. Cox took place during April. The reception was held in camp, where Lieutenant-Colonel Bennett—who also gave the bride away— received the guests with Charge-Sister Gunn.

Thinking at random, there, are certain personalities that evade mention in monthly reports and routine records, but they all go to make up the atmosphere and daily life that we recall. 'Pop' Crammond, for example, who maintained his weary vigil with the other provosts and kept a watchful eye on the night life amongst the niaoulis; that sprightly blonde.. Joan Spratt, whose cheerful 'Hello' on the telephone struck a bright note on the dullest morning; and Alex Bow, a shrewd Scot, who ministered to the moaners in the RAP. One remembers the hail and hearty Padre J. D. Froud, best known for his unhappy encounter with a carp, which, he confidently claimed, in no way impaired his normal physical functions. Then there was 'Nick ' Nicholaus, the fisherman; just what he caught is open to doubt, but the page 169only 'catch' that ever reached the camp had to be smelt to be believed. Jim Wilson, the officers' cook, was a man of many parts, and, apart from being an excellent culinary artist, never refused his services for any camp activity. Visitors to the officers' mess were always impressed by Lorraine Walters; Lorraine was mistress of all she surveyed, and pity help the officer who chanced to let his muddy boots come in contact with the tablecloth as he stepped over the form to sit down. Corporal 'Tommy' Thompson, of transport fame, was very conscious of his responsibilities, and, with his able assistants, George Clothier and Doug Collinson, did a great job of work. Then one thinks of Betty Parsons and the day that the quartermaster and Win Yardley (after notifying the Waac lines of their visit) caught her emulating Eve in the stream; she appeared to spend most of her spare time with soap and towel. In the days of the Boguen detachment, 'Buck the Baron of Boguen' was a wellknown figure; a soldier of two wars, Sergeant-Major Buckley knew all the questions and answers in his job as RQMS. Amongst the patients probably no one deserves mention more than Sergeant-Major Joe Brighouse. When he was sent to Con Depot for the second time we received a message from him telling us to get the band out—and was Joe's face red when we did? Sergeant-Major Roland Rough left ample evidence of his stay at Kalavere by some excellent murals on the recreation hut stage, while the names of Stan Griffin and Eric McKinley will always be associated with music in the unit. Lastly, no picture would be complete without mention of Monsieur Brun and his petite wife; their home adjoined Kalavere, and our camp was built on their property. Both were frequent and welcome visitors.

Early in July our hospital bed space was taxed to the limit, and it seemed likely that we might have to occupy one of the newly-completed wards. However, as the month progressed there was a steady decrease in the numbers of both convalescent and hospital patients. When Lieutenant-Colonel Bennett left on 16 July for a month's furlough in New Zealand little did we imagine that our next glimpse of him would be at Papakura. He had more than earned his respite, not only by the diverse responsibilities that he shouldered during his command of our unit, but by his period of service with 22nd NZ Field Ambulance. Major J. E. Giesen became our new CO, but his reign was destined to be of short duration.

page 170

We received a warning order to commence packing all surplus equipment, and, by the end of July, the convalescents numbered only 38 and hospital patients less than 100. Early in August the remnants of all medical units were centred at Kalavere, and 'the writing was on the wall.' The last patient was discharged from the convalescent depot on 4 August, and the 2nd NZ CCS rear party took over the hospital on 6 August, 1944, with Major K. Rees-Thomas in command and Lieutenant Williams as adjutant-quartermaster. Meanwhile the Con Depot staff spent a hectic week packing, and eventually farewelled Kalavere on Monday, 14 August. A few continued on to Noumea and left that day for New Zealand by the Torrens, while the remainder travelled by the Brastagi a week later, all to enjoy a furlough of 40 days at home.

So ended Con Depot. The unit was disbanded during our furlough, and the remains received a final, stately resting place in the vastness of Mangere Crossing Camp, alongside the ghosts of other units awaiting ordnance post-mortem. As so often happens in army organisation, our depot had reached its maximum efficiency at the time of demise, and all our training and experience were bearing abundant fruit. The worth of a combatant unit is determined by its prowess in battle; we were judged by the number of fit men we could return to the division. Measured in terms of this yardstick, we discharged sufficient men each month to supply normal replacements for approximately two infantry battalions. During a period of little more than 11 months for the convalescent depot and eight months for the hospital we treated 2,037 convalescents, 1,701 hospital patients, and 108 civilians.

Kalavere will always recall pleasant memories; we worked hard and we played hard, romances were made—and broken— life-long friendships were formed. Archivists and historians of the future may make passing reference to the 2nd NZ Convalescent Depot and Kalavere Hospital, but those who served as members of the staff will never lose 'the Con Depot spirit' as we reflect with satisfaction on something attempted and something done.