Experiences of a Kent FANY in France

FANY

The First Aid Nursing Yeomanry (FANY) were formed in 1907, originally as an independent unit of women nurses on horseback to link fighting units and field hospitals. In 1914 their services were rejected by the War Office but welcomed by both the Belgian and French armies. The women served with honour during the First World War. In addition to driving ambulances, they ran canteens and field hospitals, often in forward areas. The first British Military Medal awarded to a women was given to a FANY.

In the Second World War they were involved in the work of SOE (Special Operations Executive) - but that is another story. The following are the experiences of one young woman from Kent who volunteered as a member of FANY. I do not know if she was ever involved with Kent VAD but I found her vivid recollections fascinating.

With the French Red Cross - Bromley's Lady's Experiences

Some interesting letters have been written home by Miss Ivy B Smith to her parents, Mr & Mrs C M Smith of Southlawn, Blyth Road, Bromley. Miss Ivy Smith is one of those young and courageous ladies who have long been "doing their bit" at the Front, and is driving an ambulance for the French Red Cross, being a member of the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry. In the letter below she describes the desolation of Northern France, and also the scenes the day after the signing of the Armistice.

"I had a most thrilling "run" yesterday. I and another girl went up to a place north west of Reims, all through ruined villages, lots that haven't been in the papers, but that I musn't name. It was really terrible, not a single house remains standing.

As we got farther and farther north it got more and more warlike - houses just heaps of bricks, trees all broken off by shelling and shell-holes on both sides of the road as thick as flies.

Every twenty yards or so we saw unexploded shells lying at odd spots, sometimes stuck in the ground and sometimes lying on the side of the road.

Of course there were heaps of souvenirs to be got, and we kept on stopping and scrambling over banks after shell cases and Bosche helmets, which were simply lying there to be taken.

The trenches and barbed wire entanglements were all absolutely deserted as were the villages except for a few soldiers.

On the way back we went via Reims and saw the cathedral, which is still topping but awfully knocked about. As for Reims itself - well, after four years of practically incessant shelling, you can imagine what it is like! It is a great big town, and they say that not a single house is untouched - certainly I didn't see one.

There was one spot we passed where the British got it very badly, and where the battle swayed backwards and forwards - and there's plenty of evidence. Heaps of pathetic little graves with Englishmen's names on and English colours. I don't think I shall ever get over the "lump in my throat" feeling that I always get when I pass those graves, even though we pass heaps at odd lonely little spots every time we go out practically."

On November 12th she wrote:-

"There were tremendous celebrations yesterday - joy bells ringing, everyone getting zigzag, flags hanging out of every window and on all the cars. We hung out a beautiful big Union Jack and everyone admired it tremendously.

We had a wonderful dinner with all the tables decorated with little flags and coloured lanterns and we decorated ourselves with everything we could get hold of. In fact by the time we'd drunk to the future and a hundred other toasts in champagne, we presented a distinctly rakish unit!

After dinner we were given a most wonderful searchlight display and all the guns around gave us a last taste of what an air-raid is like - minus bombs and shrapnel!

The French are mad with joy. They are all absolutely certain that the war is finished but we Fannies don't feel so sure. How do you feel about it?

If you dare breathe the word war again here they are horribly hurt. In fact I was unfortunate enough to break the brake of my car the day before yesterday and have had to positively stand over our mechanic until he mended it for me. He said "Mais la guerre est finie. Ce n'est pas necessaire!" And that is the spirit just now - everything can go - we shan't need any more implements of war."

('District Times' newspaper, Bromley, Kent, 13th December 1918)