AWM41 1068 - [Official History, 1914-18 War: Records of Arthur G Butler:] Nursing - Personal Narratives - Extracts from letters of Staff Nurse C E Strom - 21 June 1917 - 30 September 1918 - Part 1

6/44 
[6/22] AA
Butler Colln
AWM 41
AUSTRALIAN ARCHIVES
ACCESS STATUS
OPEN
NURSING
PERSONAL NARRATIVES.
Extract from letters of Staff Nurse C.E. STROM.
21/6/1917 to 30/9/1918.
[1068]

The Official War histories of the Commonwealth
Government (Dr C. E. W. Bean), after his study of
the collection of private war records preserved in the Australian
War Memorial Library, wrote:
"The private diaries in this collection furnish some of its most
valuable historical records, but, like all private memoirs which were
not compiled with any historical purpose, they should not be
regarded as first-hand evidence except where it is certain that they
are so. The diarist is almost always sincere in his desire to record
accurately, but he is subject to no obligation or inducement to
indicate whether he is recording his own observations or incidents
told him by friends or heard at third or fourth hand at the mess-table.
Thus, in some of the diaries in this collection, scenes described with
vivid detail, and without any warning that they are told at second
or third hand, have been found to be completely inaccurate in
important details. A certain number also have been written up
or revised long after the events, though doubtless usually from notes
made at the time. In most cases the student must rely on his
experience and on internal evidence to guide him in judging what is
and what is not likely to be historically accurate".

Good narrative
File No. 373
COMMONWEALTH OF AUSTRALIA.
WAR MUSEUM LIBRARY.
RECORD FILE OF PAPERS.
NOT TO BE TAKEN AWAY.
Subject EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS OF S/NURSE C.E. STROM.

The records of this file belong to the Australian War Memorial
Collection. They have a precious value as relies of Australia's part in
the Great War and of the men who served, and they cannot be
replaced. Every care should be exercised in handling them. They
must not be mutilated, marked, or annotated.
Where a person in studying the records, discovers an inaccuracy
or anything in which, in his opinion, attention should, for the sake of
those using the records at a later date, be drawn, his comments should
be written on a separate sheet of paper, signed, and handed to the
Librarian, who will have it permanently filed with the relevant
papers.
No copy of or extracts from these records may be made without
the permission of the Director, Australian War Memorial, having first
been obtained in writing. The obtaining of the Director's permission
will not, however, relieve the person making copies or extracts
of responsibility for the use to which they may be put and the consequences
arising therefore.
This File must be Kept Intact
EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS OF S/NURSE C.E. STROM.
21/6/1917 - 30/9/1918.
A.W.M. 
LIBRARY 
Classn 373 

EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS OF S/NURSE C.E. STROM.
RMS MOOLTAN.
21/6/17.
. . . . . .It is a perfect day, the Indian Ocean looks
its best. . . . .the decks are covered with grey girls and
deck chairs & rugs, (though we don't need them) and quoits
and writing pads, and oranges, and everything else one
could possibly desire except a slice of home . . . . . .In
the early stages of this so notable trip, they were wont
to go a-gonging to let us know when afternoon tea was on
the boards, but now, lo! long before the hour of four
o'clock is clanged solemnly out of the belfry by one of
ourdark and cheerless crew, the stewards are faced by a
solid mass of some three hundred gray clad starving,
eager nurses, ruddy of countenance & healthy of appetite,
all with a mental of vision of those brown loaflets and the
quarts of tea. I admit it sounds uncommonly like greed,
but, believe me, it's only hunger and caution. . . . . . .
A number of us live down in the depths, . . . . . It smells
dreadful and the port holes won't open, they haven't
been open since we left Melbourne down there . . . . . This
morning I was waiting for a bath in the bathroom of the
upper ten, which dwells on the deck above us, and met Tem
there, she belongs to the upper ten, as does Helen.
Tem was shocked or pretended to be when I told her that I
shouldn't mind spending the whole day in their bathroom,
in comparison to ours, the great fresh air blows in and
out most gloriously, we are already planning how to get
into the upper ten for the return trip . . . . .
The dinners at night afford us great entertainment. The
stewards rush round with very highly polished plates,
they generally appear at the galley door, still wiping
them - and we each get one plumped down in front of us,
this, of course, after the soup, and then out rushes each
steward, dashing along to the section of the long table
to which he is appointed, with a fish smothered in some
disguise, or with some fantastic fishy compound, which
he brings under the notice . . . . . . of the first of his six
sisters. This unfortunate individual has to commence
operations, and manages, after a few futile dabs, to
hank off a slab of the animal, or whatever it is, . . . . .
whereupon the dusky gentleman who looks on passively
on her agonies, . . . . presents a dish of potatoes in their
jackets, and some other vegetable and then moves on to
number two. I said moves, they fairly skip along. And
so the meal progresses, one spasm after the other, all
equally interesting to possessor of appetites like ours.
The fourth course is always a queer mixture of vegetable
origin, last night it was "celery du something or other",
which was merely celery with bovril all over it, . . . . .And
the puddings, we sigh for the comforts of home in the
pudding line, they nearly always have suet puddings here,
the same recipe, apparently with various extras, & the
most wonderful names . . . . .
The French soldiers sang song after song last night, and
very fine it sounded too. They were chiefly choruses,
and in the twilight were most impressive, and a little
sad. Nearly everything we hear sung on this boat is at
least pensive, often mournful, there is a lot of
melancholy about, especially in the evenings. One hears
people sighing everywhere we generally go to bed when it

2.
reaches that stage or else we hold a meeting of the society
we have formed. It is called the Anti Shark League, and has
two topics : "How to be happy though shipwrecked" and "First
aid to the torpedoed". Tem is our leading light and is
full of suggestions concerning the prevention of shark
attacks, while in the water. One of her ideas is the free
use of turpentine "all over us", as a precautionary measure.
Tem says that sharks don't like turpentine, we are hoping
they won't like us either. The society also discusses the
making of food belts for the convenience of the semi-drowned,
these are to contain all the necessities of life that can be
accommodated in ahand bag, say - the difficulty is that no
two of us agree on the question of necessities! The subject
still affords us much joy. This morning we had a first
life-boat drill, so no doubt the society will meet tonight.
The chief officer gave us the drill, and spoke feeling of
the danger of unpreparedness, I suppose he had a vision in
his mind's eye of a few hundred women, all scampering about,
at the last moment, searching for all they could find . . . . 

At Sea,
22/6/17.
. . . . .The days are certainly getting a little too warm
for comfort . . . . There was great excitement last night,
the inhabitants of Little Lon. were given permission to
sleep on the top deck from 10.45 until 6 . . . . .
There has been some friction concerning the deck chairs
that came on board with us at Melbourne. The Victorian
Red Cross sent them, for everyone of course, but primarily
for the Victorians, since the other states have given other
privileges to their sisters, the N.S.W. girls were given
£10 before they left, we understand, from the Red Cross
over there, and the Q'land girls have stretchers, and so on.
Well, the Victorians were directed to mark a chair each, that
is if we wanted to take them to the ends of the earth with us
and of course we were only too ready to carry out the
instructions, for they are nice chairs, and handy indeed.
Naturally all the other units uprose and spoke with the heads
concerning the matter, and there was abundent argument, &
today there is a definite current of ill feeling about the
old chairs. Which is a pity. Of course, there are deck
chairs belonging to the ship, and many of them, and at
other times they would be most acceptable, but the Red Cross
chairs have foot pieces (alas, the canvas of mine has
disappeared) and moreover, there is a charm of possessing
a chair all ones own, for better or for worse, as it were.
Also, several of the girls have their own "private" chairs.
. . . . . Every morning, we go on a chair hunting expedition, and
get all our chairs together, placing them in our usual spots
there are so many spots that there isn't as a rule any
quarrel about that, with our cushions on them. Sometimes we
return after breakfast to find that some chairless individual
has spread her rug over our names, deposited the cushions
elsewhere, and sits calmly reading while we are chasing
round in all directions. It requires a special brand of
nerve to enable one to bowl up to an inoffensive looking
person and say "Excuse me, but may I see if that's my chair"?
The awkward part is that, if it is isn't ones chair, they
will never forgive one for supposing it was, and if it is,
they will never forgive one for finding out. It's a
difficult life this. The most satisfactory way of going
to work is after collecting evidence, but then of course,
no one is ever willing to supply the evidence, so there it
is!

3. 
We are indeed sick of gray! Once I get out of this army 
I shall never wear it again. Everything is gray here, 
thank goodness I brought a vivid rug . . . . . . .  
The evening closes in. Very soon after the sun sets we are 
forced to pick up our work and proceed indoors if we wish 
to finish it, but generally we just sit where we are, and 
talk, or more often, we watch the darkness deepening in 
silence, and think of home. It is great being with other  
girls from the old M.H. we are kindred spirits, and one 
needs a few on this stunt. We don't get the blue joes 
as much as might be expected, it's a sort of unwritten 
law, for we all feel equally bad about leaving home, of 
course, and it only makes things infinitely worse to 
see others in the mournfuls. So we yarn & yap, and 
joke as if this were the best thing that had happened 
to us, and the days go by . . . . .Nell declares it 
is time to dress for dinner, which means a donning of  
caps and capes . . . . . . .  
25/6/17. 
 . . . . . .we cross the line tomorrow, so we are really 
dwellers of the tropics now. The French soldiers are to 
be amongst those ducked tomorrow, they are chatting about 
it now, I should think, from the gales of laughter that 
come up to us . . . . . . .  
Speaking of the West reminds me that I haven't told you 
much about Fremantle . . . . . We had a very rough trip round 
Cape Leeuwin . . . . Anyway we got into Fremantle at 6 p.m. 
instead of 10 a.m . . . . .We were allowed off the boat 
from about half past seven until eleven o'clock . . . . . 
it is difficult to realize that we left Melbourne in 
the middle of winter. Our clothes occasion us grave 
concern, the laundry did our washing at first, but 
whether they are running short of soap, or whatever the 
reason, there was a horrible rumour that they intend  
shortly to give up the job. We are hoping it is not 
true, of course, but no doubt it is, in which case we shall 
live & move and have our being rough dried. We don't 
relish the idea particularly. The edict has gone forth 
that we may wear Peter Pan collars, instead of the high 
ones. Very nice too, everybody agrees, "Not those with 
scalloped edges", Authority explains, "Those are outre 
for military nurses, the collars must be plain, and 
curved and narrow". Hence everybody sews furiously at 
Peter Pan collars, and wishes that we had had the common 
sense to get some before we left Australia . . . . . We have 
been speculating on what the next edict will be concerning 
our apparel, whether it will be "Military nurses may 
attend dinner in their aprons, providing they wear their 
cuffs, capes & caps" (new form of evening dress, somewhat 
chic) or something even more refreshing. Tem. thinks our 
conversation a trifle unbecoming to "military nurses", 
we somehow think we'll get a little tired of those two 
words before we come back. 
One of the entertainments of this trip is the barber's 
shiop, and also incidentally the barber. The barber is a 
capable and entertaining person with an inexhaustible 
repertoire, and a shop like a curiosity shop. He sells 
all manner of things; there seems nothing that he doesn't 
sell, in fact. We have a shampoo there at intervals. 
It is necessary to book ones appointment days ahead, for 
the barber is the busiest individual on the ship. The  
Barber's Shop - there's a sign across the passage where 
he dwells - is a regular depot. We go there for 

4. 
everything, including information, and are rarely 
disappointed. It was he who told us about the electric  
iron, and the dangers thereof; we have one amongst the 
"family", and only that day had tried to fix it up so 
that we could work it. Our friend the barber told us 
that, if the ship's electrician found out that we were 
dabbling in electric irons, he would have us all 
despatched at dawn, before we did it again and blew 
the ship up, or did something else equally distressing. 
As we didn't want to incur the wrath of the electrician, 
for whom we all feel properly sorry, because he always 
looks so tired and hot, we decided to give the iron 
best, and to sell it to the first unsuspecting person 
we met off the boat, at a profit! However, since then 
an ironing table has been fixed up for us, with the 
voltage of the iron altered, so all is well. The fact 
doesn't affect the rough dried prospect very much, as  
there are always a few thousand sisters, more or less, 
round the table, or sitting about patiently waiting 
their turn. 
They have just been creating a huge sensation here 
(5.45 p.m.) concerning tomorrow's excitement. One of  
the sailors is dressed up wonderfully, with a tail & 
gloves, which he uses as forefeet, and a snout under 
his peaked cap. He is led around by one of the other 
men by means of a strong steel chain, and he is slapped 
frequently with a strap, as he careers madly round. 
These two are preceded by one of the mates, who goes 
ahead and carries the official papers of Neptune, which 
the beae delivers to the shrieking sisters, and to the 
other intended victims, with most realistic "woof-woof"  
ings. We tried to appease him with chocolates but he 
only trod on them and made a mess, and trotted past, 
growling furiously. The French soldiers got quite 
hysterically joyful over their documents and warning, 
translated, of course, by some persevering soul, and 
the bear's behaviour pleased them exceedingly. We are 
looking forward to the ceremony tomorrow. The padre 
is an energetic soul with delights in the arranging of the 
social gatherings and sports competitions. There was 
a concert last Friday eve, which was a great success, 
the captain presided, and played God Save the King at 
the close of the evening, to our unbounded joy. There 
was a speech or two; the padre said in his speech, lots 
of nice things about everybody or note, and ended up by 
quoting one of the sisters, who he reported, had been 
heard to call the captain, "a dear". Confusion on the 
part of the skipper, and murmers of "hear, hear", quite so 
and very nice too" from the crowd. We all like the 
captain; he's just fine, and the cheerfullest soul in the 
world. Nothing is too great trouble as far as his 
charges go, he explains things to us in the most patient 
manner - I guess he blesses us sometimes, all the same! 
There was a dance on the top deck on Saturday night. 
It was very hot, too hot, we thought for much exertion, 
 . . . . . .There seems to be no end of social activities 
tonight we are to have a book evening . . . .  
Tuesday afternoon. 
The ceremonial immersions took place this afternoon. 
We enjoyed it all immensely. The sisters were on each 
of the three decks, and had a splendid view of the 
proceedings, looking right down into the well-deck. 
where the canvas was rigged up, and filled with water, 
 

5. 
and the duckings took place . . . . The officials were  
really entertaining. Mr. & Mrs. Neptune were fearfully 
and wonderfully attired in all manner of things, Mrs. N's 
golden hair, well frizzed out rope, framed her charming 
face, the secretary was a business like person who would 
have no nonsense, the barber being an efficient second, 
and the policemen regular bulldogs. The bears did  
enough growling and capering for a whole Zoo full, 
assisting in the lathering and ducking performances with 
the utmost enthusiasm. The French soldiers were real 
sports, and didn't appear in the least to mind being soused 
in the briny bath. The victims were first sounded by the  
official doctor, the stethescope being a bit of old 
telescope, we decided, and the operation somewhat 
perfunctory, he is then passed on the barber's assistant 
who lathers him faithfully with the whitewash brush and 
some pleasant looking stuff like thick paste, the barber 
proper then takes a hand and shaves the unhappy pastey 
faced gentleman with two expert swipes of his razor, an 
extraordinary flail-like object, which we weren't able to 
"place" to our satisfaction. I suppose the ship's 
carpenter made it "out of his own head"! The victim is 
seated, during the shaving operation, on a box, with his 
reluctant back towards the deep bath, a few inches away, 
and, I should imagine, a cold shiver of apprehension down 
his spine! When the barber has finished his job, to his 
satisfaction, if not to that of his "customer", and  
the doctor has presented the shivering subject - or object 
- with the inevitable pill, the said subject is tipped 
casually over into the bath, all the neighbouring 
officials having a hand in the pie, but the bears appear 
to regard the job as their special property. Once in the
bath, all caution deserts the harrassed victim; he
struggles and flops about, but the two bears are far too
much for him, and he is ducked and re-ducked, hosed and
half-drowned and ducked again, and finally crawls out
like a drowned rat, to stand by and sympathise with the
misfortunes of his successors. They go in one after the
other, until the whole of the "novices" have been through
the ordeal, and everyone is more or less wet through.
The sisters were not ducked of course, but they were
s-plashed unmercifully!
Some of the speeches were masterpieces. Old Father
Neptune spoke to the captain on the bridge, and the capt.
spoke to Father Neptune; the doctor and the barber put
a word in, the secretary read out the awful sentences,
and glared round at the assembled company; the two bears
did one long growl. Mrs Neptune regarded everyone with
a seraphic smile, and swished her skirts about in a manner
most coy. They were a most devoted couple, Mr. & Mrs. N.,
from all appearances, prancing up and down, arm in arm,
and beaming on each other in the most affectionate way
imaginable. 
It's getting dark, the afternoon ceremony did not begin
until 4.30 and they did not miss a man! The evenings
come very suddenly here, the sun just drops, and there
it is; the darkness comes like a curtain. We must go
for our usual evening promenade; we go as far bow-ward
as possible, and stand there looking out to sea, getting
all the breeze that there is. Sometimes we creep along
the other way as far as we can, and look back towards
"home", it gives one a lost sort of feeling to realise
that daily it's getting further away! It left us all a 
bit desolate on the day after Fremantle, to see the last
of Australia slipping away into the blue . . . . . .