In September 1962, I wonder if the editor of the hospital and social club magazine realised how important his hospital news column would be, 51 years later? It is there that we have just found confirmation of the very last day of the Spike operating as a casual ward!!
The Spike finally closed its doors on the 31st May 1962. As we know, it took on another life as a training centre for staff training and other purposes.
In 1938 when the Woman’s Voluntary Services were established, Helen Lloyd, a 39 year old resident of Albury, where she lived with her parents, volunteered to take charge of the reception of evacuees in the Guildford Rural District. We are able to discover a great deal about her ever widening responsibilities for the WVS through the diaries she wrote for the Mass Observation Archive.
Helen Lloyd by kind permission of SHC 1532/9/1
From 1939 till 1940, 1100 evacuees arrived in the Guildford Rural District, many in 1940 having been moved from the south coast where they had first been housed. Apart from the logistics of finding homes for the children, Helen commented in her Narrative Reports to the WVS headquarters that Enuresis (bed-wetting) was a severe problem for families taking care of the children. Many solutions were suggested throughout the country, such as not allowing children to pick dandelions, but Helen believed, “All that is needed is a legion of old-fashioned nannies who love the children dearly but who stand no nonsense from their charges.” She may have followed this herself for she remarked in her diary that she had happily replaced a bath and a drink before dinner with a session reading a story to the four boys residing with her family.
The WVS centre for Guildford Borough was organised by Mrs Eileen Leach, but Helen’s base was also in Guildford and she had regular meetings with Mrs Leach.
Though not specifically connected with Warren Road Hospital, Helen often went there in her role as WVS district organiser. Her diary entry for
June 15th 1940
“Took a car full of teapots and cruets to Warren Road Hospital. Mrs Thomas objected to appeals being made for the hospital as it made public the fact that it was badly equipped – which of course was the case.”
October 26th 1940
“To Warren Road Hospital to give blood. Had to wait 40 minutes but enlivened the time by gossiping with Mrs Cooper who was taking records. The operation was extremely simple and I felt ashamed of having a fluttering head. The doctor was charming and I admired and wished to emulate his bedside manner.”
Helen was concerned that the London boroughs made no attempt to forward the children’s medical records or spectacle prescriptions , but the main medical concerns were obvious.
December 30th 1940
“Had to take two of Mrs Strachey’s children to Warren RoadHospital with impetigo and nits!”
January 31st 1941
“Eight cases of scabies and nowhere to put them; 3 measles contacts and no billets; an expectant mother imminently expecting; a child admitted to Warren Road for impetigo has measles there and no-one is told; a second child of Mrs Strachey’s has scarlet fever though the school doctor pronounced it to be nothing.”
The highlight of June 1940 was the arrival at Guildford station of men evacuated from Dunkirk. Mrs Leach was in Helen’s office organising food for the trains when there was a message for them to go to the station as soon as possible. There they found chaos as train after train of hungry and thirsty English, French and Belgian soldiers stopped en route from the south coast. “The waiting rooms on the platform were transformed into larders and pantries and were filled with people cutting sandwiches. Churns of hot tea ladled into tins, jam jars, anything that would serve as a cup.” For four days the WVS continued to serve the soldiers with the, “enthusiastic support of Guildford tradesmen willing to be knocked up at all hours to give goods at a discount of sixty per cent.”
After Dunkirk, the Guildford scheme was instigated, “Whereby we shall keep a list of lodgings, free or otherwise, for the wives and relations of wounded (servicemen) on the danger list. These people are, if necessary to be met at the station and taken to the hospital or billets.”
Meanwhile the rural WVS were to supply ashtrays, handkerchiefs, drinking beakers, books and games for the injured soldiers at Warren Road Hospital.
Helen Lloyd with Canadian soldiers in June 1945 (with kind permission of the SHC 5380/1/12/1)
On one occasion Helen recorded that a family had been sent from Bristol because the husband was dying of cancer at Warren Road Hospital. His wife and six children were sent to Ockham Park which made it impossible for them to visit the hospital so she persuaded the Billeting Officer to find them a council cottage in Shackleford.
Later in 1941 Helen Lloyd reported that 3 bombs had dropped near to Warren Road Hospital killing 2 people, injuring 9 and making 200 homeless. In October 1941 a British Restaurant was opened in Charlotteville. This was a communal feeding centre, a cafe where a full hot meal could be purchased for one shilling, served and washed up by the WVS. At the same time WVS members were knitting scarves, helmets, socks, sweaters and gloves. By 1941 almost 3,000 children had been evacuated to the 22 parishes in Helen’s Rural District. In January 1942 when there was thick snow on the ground, Helen skied into Guildford from her home in Albury.
In June 1942 there were 542 WVS members in Guildford Rural District and 1,005 in the borough of Guildford. An editorial in the Surrey Times of 29th October 1943 expressed the opinion that, “While the grey uniforms of the members of the WVS are seen mingling among the crowds in our streets, few of the public are conscious of the valuable work they undertake.”
Patients come in all assorted sizes, weights and colours, but all patients have the same creed: to enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of freedom before the dreaded words “confined to bed” take effect, and to protest with noise, (their only weapon), when their last minute is finished.
A patient is Hope with despair in his eyes, Courage with fear on his face, Bravado with apprehension in his restless hands.
When you are busy, a patient is inconsiderate, bothersome and an intruder. When you want to give him your attention he is sleepy, aggressive and unco-coperative. Given time, he can become spineless as a jelly fish, stubborn as a mule, savage as a jungle creature. He can possess the curiosity of a cat, the shyness of a violet, the innocence of a new born baby, the self-assurance of a teenager or the audacity of a middle-aged business man.
Nobody else wants so many different things in the course of one hour. Nobody else has such a vivid imagination. Nobody else is so ignorant on the subject of his own person. Nobody else so heartily dislikes milk puddings, draughts, washing, lights on, lights off, bed making.
A patient is a complex creature. You can go off duty hating him but you cannot forget his troubles. You can lock him out of your heart but you cannot lock him out of your work. Might as well give up – he is there and whilst there, he is your captor – a whining, complaining, aggressive, exasperating thing. But when you come on duty in the morning, with only the treasured memories of your evening off to keep you going, he can make your task lighter with his welcoming smile or friendly greeting.
– St Luke’s Hospital and Social Club Magazine (March 1962)
Hidden down a corridor
Lies the oft time dreaded door
To exercise and treatment sore,
And deep massage from Shillinglaw,
In the tiny P.M.D.
And in and out the patients go
To cries of “Ouch” and “Help” and “Oh”,
I never asked for Physio!
In the tiny P.M.D.
The staff comprises of six, and two
Doctors Duff Stewart and Curwen who
With Mrs. Shelley know what to do
With patients who form up in a queue
In the clinics in the O.P.D.
Slings, springs and manipulation
Short wave, wax and ionization,
And ultra violet irradiation
Are given in P.M.D.
The patients get an awful fright
When confronted with Miss White
Winding up the traction tight
And pulling necks with all her might
In the tiny P.M.D.
“Where is your pain?”, she sweetly said
To the patient prone upon the bed,
Who quietly wished the doctor dead,
In tiny P.M.D.
At nine o’clock the girls all go
To spread despondency and woe
“A deep breath in, now let it go,
And move your ankles to and fro”,
Say the girls from the P.M.D.
Cannon, Morgan and Dandridge three
Seize blue forms with cries of glee.
“Another one! Who shall he be?”
say the girls from P.M.D.
The St. Luke’s Hospital and Social Club Magazine, invited the staff to contribute their favourite comments from patients. These are a few of the responses, published in the magazine for December 1961:
“Is this the Ante Natural Clinic?”
“Where is the Pre Ante Natal Clinic please?
“I am waiting for the Genology clinic.”
Patient for the Chiropody clinic: “Please can you direct me to the Carpenter’s Clinic?”
