BISSETT, Jane Isobel
Service Numbers: | Nurse, Staff Nurse |
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Enlisted: | 5 May 1915 |
Last Rank: | Staff Nurse |
Last Unit: | 3rd Australian General Hospital - WW1 |
Born: | Bendigo, Victoria, 1885 |
Home Town: | Golden Square, Greater Bendigo, Victoria |
Schooling: | Not yet discovered |
Occupation: | Nurse |
Died: | 27 March 1945, cause of death not yet discovered, place of death not yet discovered |
Cemetery: |
Springvale Botanical Cemetery, Melbourne Cremated (remains scattered at cemetery) |
Memorials: | Bendigo Base Hospital Roll of Honour, Bendigo Great War Roll of Honor, Bendigo St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church Honor Roll |
World War 1 Service
5 May 1915: | Enlisted Australian Army Nursing Service (WW1), Staff Nurse, Nurse, 3rd Australian General Hospital - WW1 | |
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19 May 1915: | Enlisted Australian Army Nursing Service (WW1), Staff Nurse, Staff Nurse, Australian Army Nursing Service (WW1) | |
24 May 1915: | Involvement 3rd Australian General Hospital - WW1, --- :embarkation_roll: roll_number: '23' embarkation_place: Fremantle embarkation_ship: RMS Mooltan embarkation_ship_number: '' public_note: '' | |
24 May 1915: | Embarked 3rd Australian General Hospital - WW1, RMS Mooltan, Fremantle |
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Daughter of George Simpson BISSET and Malvina nee SINCLAIR
Trained at Bendigo Hospital
Did not marry
LETTER FROM SISTER BISSET.
THRILLING EXPERIENCES.
Close to Field of Battle. The following interesting letter has been received from Sister Bisset, daughter of Mr. G. S. Bisset of Golden-square :-- ..I am going to write you some of my very thrilling experiences. I can only start it now, and will continue it when I have a little time to spare, which is only seldom; but I will hope to get it finished and posted when I get a chance. I really hardly know how to start, except that I am beginning to think that my luck has turned at last, for 'I am sure the six of us are the envy of every other nurse in our party who knows where we are. But, I must start and tell you things methodically. I wrote to you that we were lying out from our island on a ship, waiting till our hospital was ready to receive us. Well, on Friday we got word to be ready to disembark in a quarter of an hour. You can tell the scramble; but we did it, and went on to a small lighter which brought us, much to our disappointment, over to another ship. They had got orders to proceed elsewhere, and they had to get rid of us some how, so they bundled the eighty-two of us at a moment's notice on to another ship. Our luggage had gone ahead and was being piled sky high on the deck, when we reached the ship.
Five minutes' Notice. We were just standing about waiting fo rour cabins to be allotted to us, and had not been there three minutes when the order came for six of us, myself included, to be ready with uniforms, in suit case, to disembark in five minutes. You couldn't imagine the scramble. My big trunk, with uniforms in, was under about sixty others. It was a hot day, so, as I said before, you simply couldn't imagine the scramble. However, we managed it, and left our big trunks for our various friends to repack. Down the gangway we sailed to another lighter, in which was a colonel and he told us we were going on to a hospital ship; to put in time, whilst we were waiting for our own hospital to be fixed up. Of course we were delighted and away we went, but imagine our dismay to see the ship sailing away in the distance. We were too late. However, they put our boat at top speed, and we were sighted by the hospital ship, which slackened speed till we caught up. As we came alongside a small band of officers set up three hearty cheers-for us, the gangway was let down, and while the ship was still moving we tumbled up the steps. We thought, of course, that we had come to help other sisters, but found that we six were the only girls on board. They had thought they would have to sail with only orderlies, hence their cheers for us.
On Board Hospital Ship. It is a French-manned ship, taken over as a hospital ship by England. I am beginning to speak French like a native. Well, away went the ship with us on board, and as we were told we would probably receive wounded that night 6 p.m. then we set to work to get our wards in order. There are six wards of sixty beds each, and then the decks are also utilised. We reached our appointed place at 10 p.m., and we could hardly believe it when they told us that the few small lights we saw ahead were really the lights of the British lines half a mile away. Do you wonder that we could not believe our luck? We were told to go to bed when we were ready, and we would be called when necessary. Of course, we were all intensely excited, and did not sleep a wink when we eventually did get to bed at 2 a.m.
Amongst the Warships. The guns on shore were thundering away, and we watched the flashes of light caused by them, and by the flares being thrown into the air for observation purposes. There were warships, destroyers, and all kinds of vessels, with guns on each side of us, thundering away. It sounds almost like an overtall yarn. I suppose ,but it is quite true. We were called at 5.30 a.m., as word was received that patients would soon arrive. We jumped up on deck and there before our eves was land covered with khaki tents, men in khaki trousers, horses wagons, and ambulances looking just like a huge beehive. About 100 yards to our left was what looked like a huge whale. They jell us it is the keel of the Majestic. Another 300 yards away is the Clyde, with the great holes in her side. It all seemed too wonderful to be true, but we soon realised the truth of it whilst we were at breakfast, for along came four shells at us in the space of 20 minutes. One, they say, was only 15 yards from us, but of course, we were ordered below and could not see them. And now for four days we have had stray shots coming whizzing by. There are aeroplanes, biplanes, balloons, and all sorts of queer aircraft buzzing about, and we have seen two shots fired at an aeroplane. So if I am not living in stirring times my name is not what it is. Receiving the Wounded. 12th August.- Another try. I wrote yesterday's just as soon as my ward was
empty, and today we have not started to fill yet, though they may come any minute, so I have a litte respite. My head is aching with the noise of guns. On each side of us today they have been firing from ships. I have told you a bit of the interesting port, but now I feel don't want to write about the dreadful part, for it is the most ghastly business one could ever imagine. We load our ship full with patients, and then we get two hours' journey to a small harbor where, we wait till a larger hospital ship comes along. Then we trans-ship them, and they go to Mudros, Alexandria or Malta. It is very dreadful, for just as we get them comfortable and fixed up, it is time to send them off again, and they must suffer agonies, being craned up and down from and to the wards. When we get them they, have been mostly temporarily fixed lip at the dressing station on shore, but some have not even had that. They are sent straight to us from the firing line. And talk of the heartbreak! Very few nurses have seen them in their raw state as we have. We only have stray Australians, we are not quite far enough round for that, and we are all a bit sorry.
Patient Sufferers. I simply cannot write about the wounded. I never thought there were such patience and goodness left in the world. With their awful gaping wounds, and with nearly every bone in their body broken, every nerve gone to pieces, and perhaps having almost bled to death on the field, they will help themselves off the stretchers on to the beds, and they will thank you for any little thing you do for them. "Oh, sister, that is beautiful; my luck's in alright, isn't it ?" And their disappointment when they know they are to be moved to another ship is pitiful. So you see we are in the very thick of it all. As soon as ever they are lowered to the ward we give them hot coffee or bovril, and you should just see them enjoying it. Some of them have been lying unfed for two days. My there's a shell not the length of the ship away from us. This has been quite a long pause to watch the bursting of the shell on the water, and so I have lost the thread of my discourse.
The Awfulness of It All. 13th August.- I did not get any further with my letter yesterday, so will, try gain. We are going hard all day and at night sink into bed with throbbing head, and with feet stinging all over, and the color of raw tomatoes. My ward was full to overflowing yesterday we got them from the shore at 9 a.m., and each one as he came in seemed worse than the last. They were all young fellows with dreadful wounds, and were all so thankful to get into a bed and have something to drink. There is an orderly detailed to feed them the minute we got the men to the bed. He does nothing else but that, and it is pitiful to see how eager they are for it. We got the lot into bed, fed them, washed them, and dressed their wounds. Three died on the stretcher before we could get them into bed, so you can tell how bad they were. By 7 p.m they were more or less happy, when we found that we had reached the hospital ship to which we were to transfer them. By midnight all the other wards had been emptied, and they were ready to start on mine. I hated to have to tell them ,that they had to go; not one of them murmured, but the look in their eyes! It nearly broke me. They all tried to thank me as they were lifted from their beds, and I wondered how much longer I could stand it without screaming. By 2 a.mrn. they had started on the last row of six beds. I looked at the row, and I know that not one of the six was going to live, and the awfulness of it all came over me. The medical officer must have noticed, for he said, "Run away to your cabin, sister. you're tired." I fled, and broke down utterly in my, cabin; and now, I think I will not do so again, whatever happens, but for that day my ward had been by far the heaviest. It really did me good, and I feel I will never get so strung up again, but will go through anything.
Recognises an Australian. One boy had been in bed some time frightfully ill, when I noticed his hat was Australian. So I just gave him a smile as I passed, and said, "I see you've got an Australian hat. Are you from Australia?" He showed teeth from ear to ear, and said,"Yes, and I noticed your badge the minute I saw you." I thought I wanted to nurse Australians, but now I hope I never see anyone I know with these awful wounds. One could hardly bear it. 14th August.- We have been on the ship eight days now, and it seems centuries; and now we are on our way back to where we started from eight days ago. If our hospital is in working order, I suppose we will get off. This time my ward is not so ghastly as on the other trips, as most of them are fever patients, and though they are very weak and ill, poor fellows, I am sure not one of them is going to die, and I am quite cheerful.
A Bendigo Patient. 22nd August.-This has not been posted yet, but I hope to be able to send it ashore today. I am still on the boat, and have been having a most thrilling time watching the battle at Cape Helles. On our last two trips our patients have been mostly Australian -A. Cordingley, from Bendigo, was one. Actually I saw with my naked eye troops marching with fixed bayonets to charge. The Ghurkhas and Australians are the best patients. 1st September.-Am back at our island again, and working hard. All the beds have arrived, and everything is shipshape, and soon we will have bread instead of biscuits. I am awfully tired, but I would like to tell you how I spent my birthday. In the morning I asked them to wish me many happy returns, so that it would seem more home-like. One medico went and got me a tin of sardines, another a slab of chocolate, another a tin of peaches and another a tin of apricots, gave me some notepaper, and apologised for the lack of a box, while gave me some of her perfume. So you see was "'done proud." Good-bye. I wish I could ring up 553 and have a yarn to you all.
The Benidgonian Thursday 28 October 1915 page 31
Biography contributed by Faithe Jones
Daughter of G.S. BISSETT, Golden Square, Bendigo, Vic.