ON February 19 1916, the Post reported on Miss Marian Nicolls’ homecoming. The report has been kindly transcribed by Roger Pyke, who runs the website www.launcestonthen.co.uk
It reads: After being a prisoner of war in Austria for two months, Miss Marian Nicolls is home again with her people in Launceston. She arrived by the last train from London on Monday evening (14th of February), and had a warm welcome from a party of relatives and friends who had been waiting more than an hour for the overdue train.
Her father and sister had brought with them a dapper little terrier called ‘Chum’, the personal property of Miss Nicolls, and although Chum had not seen his mistress for 12 months, he knew her so soon as she alighted from the train, and was evidently very delighted.
Miss Nicolls has been through some exciting times in the theatre of war where the latest sensational developments have taken place. A conversation at the tea table enables us to give our readers the interesting story of the work of the Scottish Women’s Hospital Serbian Unit, to which Miss Nicolls was attached in the capacity of secretary, and to which for some time she acted in her professional capacity as pharmaceutical dispenser.
In reply to congratulations on her return home safe and sound, Miss Nicolls said she felt wonderfully well. She did not know exactly what was her position as a returned prisoner of war, and how far it affected her contract with the Scottish Women’s Hospital undertaking, but she was ready, after a short rest, for any call of patriotism that might come to her.
The account that Miss Nicolls gave of her journey home through troubled Europe was extremely interesting. The members of the Scottish Hospital Expedition, over 30 in number, all of them women, including the doctors, were prisoners under Austrian rule at a place called Kecskemet, in Hungary.
On February 2nd Miss Nicolls dispatched to her father and mother in Launceston a telegram containing three words, which she had to put in German, ‘Interned, well, love,’ what happened to this telegram no one knows, but it arrived here two days after in a form that very much puzzled the parents. This is how it read:
‘Prisonniere Guerre Interne Bien Chere May Croix rouge hongroise Fargo Bela Vermatten Krosremet’.
Happily there were not many days to wait for the best possible explanation of the puzzle. At the time this telegram was sent off, one of the lady doctors with the unit was handing in a telegram and there was some conversation about the need of money for the prisoners. ‘You will need no money,’ said the telegram clerk, ‘for you will be leaving tomorrow for your own country’. That was the first intimation Miss Nicolls and her friends had of their approaching release. They understand they are in the position of exchanged prisoners and at first thought that they were set against the Consuls who had been taken prisoners at Salonika. This, however, is a matter of conjecture.
Which way did we come home? Well, said Miss Nicolls, the day after the telegram we left Kecskemet, we were sent across the Danube to Budapest, thence to Vienna, and afterwards by way of Brouck we passed from Austria to Swiss territory at Feldkirch. Here our luggage and effects were minutely overhauled by the Austrian authorities. They took from me my diary, several maps, postcards I had received, and even a paper pattern of a skirt band. Yes, they took my address with a view to returning these things after the war.
We came through France and returned to England by the Dieppe and Folkestone route. At Folkestone I left my party and spent a little time with my two brothers, who are in the army. I then proceeded to London and saw another brother, who has been attested but for the time is pursuing his occupation on the staff of the Regent Street Polytechnic.
On being asked to tell the story of the expedition, Miss Nicolls said she had seen accounts of it in various newspapers but there was one error, which she should like to correct. It had been said that the unit had refused to nurse cholera patients. This was not true. They had only once been asked to do this and they agreed to do it. All arrangements were made; they were inoculated against cholera and purchased rubber gloves, but at the last moment the authorities changed their minds and they had not this work to do.
The Expedition
When did our expedition set out? The Scottish Women’s Hospital Serbian Unit, made under Dr Alice Hutchison, MD, and numbering about 50 women — doctors, nurses, sanitary inspectors, etc — left England for Serbia on April 20th, last year. No, I was not one of the nurses; I was secretary. Afterwards I took on the work of dispenser temporarily, owing to the non-arrival of the dispenser who had been sent out. The expedition was held up at Malta for a month by Lord Methuen, the governor, who requisitioned our services for the first wounded that came from the Dardanelles.
Reaching Serbia through Salonika we opened our hospital with 200 beds in June at Valjevo, in Serbia. By that time the war was in progress. The Bulgarians and the Serbs were at close grips. At that time we were about 70 miles from the scene of the fighting.
Our hospital primarily was for the treatment of fever, especially enteric fever. The Serbians had plenty of hospitals for the wounded. Our hospital, however, was not filled with fever cases and having the room some of the wards were used for other cases. Some wounded from the field were sent to us. One ward was wholly occupied with scurvy patients.
Capture of the Hospital
After a time we were forced to retire further back down the line. After staying at Pojega we retired still further under pressure of the Austro-German forces. Finally we came to Vrynjachksbanga, where the working of our hospital was taken over by the military. The war had been getting nearer and nearer to us and we could hear the sound of the guns. We were taken prisoners.
Austrian Treatment
Not Unkind
Did that make much difference? No, we went on with our hospital work. The chief difference was that a man with a fixed bayonet was placed in front of the hospital on sentry duty. Our captors forbade any of the staff to leave the hospital and safeguarded the front, but strange to say that we were treated very nicely by the military authorities. The Austrian commandant, Prince Lobkovita, was very courteous and even jovial towards us.
We were there only about a fortnight as the Austrians wanted us to undertake a hospital at Krushetavn. We packed up everything and took our equipment to the hospital there. The people were very sorry to see us go. We were there, however, only five days, being accommodated in a hotel and soon we were to realise that we were prisoners. We were taken to Ctalach and shut up in two railway horse wagons, guarded by soldiers.
German Soldier’s Curiosity
How many were there of us? Let me see, thirty-four. Before we were taken prisoners, some had trekked back to England through Montenegro, having the right to leave after concluding a term of six months’ service. For many people that is quite long enough a strain under such circumstances.
Liberated from the horse wagons our party reached Semindria, on the River Danube. While we were waiting for three hours on the quay German soldiers walked round looking at us and making curious if not insulting remarks. We went over by the last boat. It was then fairly late at night.
We were accommodated in a military hut. Our German guard was a quiet and nice boy who shared his loaf with some of us who had had nothing to eat for 24 hours. Dr Alice Hutchison carried out her duties as head of party with very great efficiency. She frequently interviewed the officials, pointing out to them that they were not regarding the Geneva Convention, of which we found to our astonishment that some of the officers had never heard. Our next stage was Kevevara where we were put in a refugees’ night shelter for some time and then transferred to a police station, where we were three weeks.
Fatiguing The Guard
Here we find that our pedestrian activity caused some trouble. Our military escorts complained of being tired out by our rapid walking and the long distances we went. They complained to their officers that we took them too far and walked too fast, or as one put it ‘they fly through the mud like geese’. One captain, explaining the difficulty to us, said ‘these men are not used to walking like you are’. It was pointed out to him that exercise was necessary to health, and so when he knew that we wanted to go for a walk he arranged to send the strongest man he could find off duty to rest awhile so that he might be fit to take charge of us in our walk. Soon after we were removed to Kecskemet. We started thence to England last Saturday week — 34 of us and others who had been rounded up with us.
Without News
Had we been without news all the time? Yes, I had not heard from home since the beginning of October; previously I had heard regularly. During the whole of that time we had to depend for our news upon a German newspaper, ‘The Paster Lloyd’ in which, of course, we could not put much faith.
Hospital Equipment Seized
Was I bound to remain with the party? No, some of our members left for Montenegro at the beginning of November when it was known that it was inevitable that the Austrians would take us prisoners. Yes, I had the choice of trekking through Montenegro or of remaining and taking my chance. The decision to remain was dictated by the desire to save our hospital equipment, worth between three and four thousand pounds. We were in hopes that out Allies would come up to our relief, but that was not to be. Our equipment fell into the hands of the Austrians, but our CMO, Dr Hutchinson, insisted on their giving her a receipt for it a document which I presume will have some value at the end of the war.
At the conclusion of this interesting interview the hope was expressed that the period of rest, which Miss Nicolls so fully deserves, would be pleasant and beneficial. Miss Nicolls said she quite appreciated it and it would doubtless do her much good, but she was ready to go forth again if she could be of any service.