Translate

Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts

Saturday, 10 November 2018

" Not so Quiet " - the costs of war (Helen Zenna Smith)


Helen Zenna Smith was a pseudonym for Evadne Price*, journalist and popular children's writer, asked by her publisher to write a spoof of Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front  (1929) from a woman's point of view:-  "All Quaint …by Erica Remarks".  Instead, after reading Remarque,  she wrote her searing account of the VAD women ambulance drivers in France, drawing on the real diaries of driver Winifred Constance Young.

A visceral indictment of the young women's physical and mental misery, both on and off duty, engulfed with cold, pain, filth, hunger and fear, relying on the comradeship of fellow drivers to help them survive each day.  These sheltered middle-class girls had to drive out repeatedly to the train station for convoys of wounded men to be loaded into their ambulances, night and day, and then drive around a shattered landscape (often during shelling) to find their numbered hospital stations.


Loading ambulances at Ypres,  Gilbert Rogers 1919
 Crown © Imperial War Museum

She is even more savage on the consequences of war.  She pulls no punches at all.

"Boom-a boom-booma-boom- boommm!
'God I hate those bloody guns', mutters Tosh and this time B.F. is silent.  We stare ahead.  We hate and dread the days following on the guns when they boom without interval. Trainloads of broken human beings: half-mad men pleading to be put out of their misery; torn and bleeding and crazed men pitifully obeying orders like a herd of senseless cattle, dumbly, pitifully straggling in the wrong direction, as senseless as a flock of senseless sheep obeying a senseless leader, herded back into line by the orderly, the kind sheep-dog with a 'Now then, boys, this way. That's the ticket, boys',  instead of a bark; men with faces bleeding through their hasty bandages; men with vacant eyes and mouths hanging foolishly apart dropping saliva and slime; men with minds mercifully gone; men only too sane, eyes horror-filled with blood and pain…"
…..  "Tears tear at my heart...awful tears that rack me, but must not rise to my eyes, for they will freeze on my cheeks and stick my eyelids together until I cannot see to drive.  Even the solace of pitying tears is denied me."

A V.A.D. motor driver   Gilbert Rogers
©  Imperial War Museum

She rages bitterly against those flag-wavers like her mother, writing to her from home safe in Wimbledon Common:

"Committees …committees…committees…. recruiting meetings.  She has seventeen more recruits than Mrs Evans-Mawnington up to date.  My brother Bertie won't be satisfied until he gets to the trenches…she doesn't fancy the idea, but of course she is proud her son wants to fight for the Dear Old Flag.   The cat has had three kittens, three dear fluffy balls of fur …Mons, Wipers and Liege… rather sweet, don't I think?  Mrs Evans-Mawnington is boasting that Roy Evans-Mawnington is on his last leave before going out to the trenches.  Simply awful if  Roy got out there before Bertie.  Darling, I don't know how proud mother is of me and Trix and Bertie.  My three heroes...  so-and-so-and-so ….my affectionate mother, whose little daughter is … Doing her bit."

Menin Gate, Ypres,   Richard Tennant Cooper
© Royal Signals Museum, Blandford


"What is to happen to women like me when the killing is done and peace comes …if it ever comes?  What will they expect of us, these elders who have sent us out to fight?   We sheltered young women who smilingly stumbled from the chintz-covered drawing rooms of the suburbs straight into hell?" 

Extracts from Not So Quiet,  Helen Zenna Smith, 1930





* Evadne Price became a WWII war correspondent in 1943 and was there for the  liberation of the camps and the  Nuremburg trials.

Sunday, 12 May 2013

Travelling light

"I left England in the autumn of 1862, intending to try whether the south of France was really, as I had been told, a cheaper place of abode than England.  I travelled (for a lady) in rather a peculiar fashion, for I took with me only one small waterproof stuff bag, which I could carry in my hand, containing a spare dress, a thin shawl, two changes of every kind of under clothing, two pairs of shoes, pens, pencils, paper, the inevitable 'Murray', and prayer-book, so that I had no trouble or expense about luggage.    My plan was to locate myself by the week, in any town or village that took my fancy, and ramble about on foot to botanize, and see all that was worth seeing in the environs;.....   There are disadvantages, however, in this gypsy style of travelling which I did not foresee when I set out."

A Lady's Walks in the South of France  Mary Eyre

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

French Rain

Amiens 28 July:

"Ned and me much Diverted to find ourselves in this strange Country, and I hung my head out of the coach window all the journey down to this place admiring the sights, but my father complains greatly of the rain which he never observes in his native land, but which vexes him here; the French louis for which he reluctantly parts with his precious Sterling, and the Rapacity of the people in general."
Miss Cleone Knox, County Down, Ireland


The Diary of a Young Lady of Fashion 1764-5
Magdalen King-Hall