Fanny Goes to War

unded in 1910 and now numbers roughly

in field work, stretcher bearing, ambulance driving, e

een found in transporting nurses from one place to another on the veldt in the South African War. Men had ofte

was declared and, though it is not universally known, they were th

F.A.N.Y.'s, to all and sundry, and in an incredibly short space of time h

th was merely the line "Women Yeomanry in Camp," and nothing more. "That," said I, pointing out the photo to a friend, "is the sort of show I'd like to belong to: I'm s

photo had been mislaid. However, they did inform me there was such a

re was a Girls' Yeomanry Corps." "Where can I join it?" I would ask

ay to ask all sorts of possible and impossible people on the off-chance that they might know; b

and I confided all my troubles to him. Joy of joys! He had actually seen some of the Corps riding in Hounslow Barracks. It

ly and a week later met the C.O. o

to see how I liked it before I officially became a member. When the day arrived my excitement, as I stepp

om the road along which we were driving. "'Ard up for a job I should say!" said my cabby, nodding jocosely towards the khaki f

en, and at the end of the field were tethered the horses! As I drew nearer, I felt horribly shy and was glad I had selected

me made friends with "Castor," the Corps' bull-dog and mascot, who was lying in a clothe

er the camp. I heard the order ring out "To the horse-lines!" and watched (through a

cautiously pushed my suit-case under the mess table in the hope of keeping it dry, for the rain was coming down in torrents, an

ble recruit. When the storm was over she kindly lent me an old uniform, and I was made to feel quite at home by be

contingent had been offered and accepted, in case of hostilities, and that

w nothing much about either and shamelessly countered it by asking, "Which are you?" "Ulster, of cour

e, joined the Corps. In July of that year we had

at the camp hospital near by to help the R.A.M.C. men, others to exercise the horses, clean the officers' boots and belts, etc., and, added to these duties, was all the everyday work of the camp, the grooming and watering of the horses, etc. Each one groomed her own mount, but in so

re on the floor and of the "biscuit" variety, being three square paillasse arrangements looking like giant reproductions of the now too well known army "tooth breakers." We had brown army blankets, and it was no uncommon thing to find black earth beetles and earwigs crawling among them! After months of active service these details appear small, but in the summer of

ithout means of transport. There was a good deal of discussion as to who were to be the rescued and who the rescuers. Sergeant Wicks explained to all and sundry that her horse objected strongly to anyone sitting on its tail and that it always bucked on these occasions. No one seemed particularly anxious

know how slight she is can imagine my feeling of security!) Off we set with every hope of reaching the post first, and I was just settling down to enjoy myself when going over a little dip in the field two terrific bucks landed us high in the air! Luckily I fell "soft," but as I

d, and with two stretchers between the four. These were carried on our shoulders for a certain distance, and at the command "Change stretchers!" they were slipped down by our sides. This stunt had to be executed very neatly and with precision, and woe betide anyone who bungled it. It was ten o'clock when we reached Bisley Camp, and I remember to this day the surprised look on the sentry's face, in the moonlight, as we marched through. It was always a continual source of wonderment to t

told to go off and make themselves scarce, till they were found and carried in (a coveted job). When they had selected nice soft dry spots they lay down and had a quiet well-earned nap until the stretcher bearers discovered them. Occasionally they were hard to find, and a panting bearer would call out "I say, wounded, give a groan!" and they were located.

threw her arms about in a wild manner. The poor bearers were feeling too exhausted to appreciate this piece of acting, and heather is extremely slippery stuff. When we had struggled back with her the soi-disant doctor asked for the diagnosis. "Drunk and disorderly," replied one of them, stepping smartly forward and s