RED CROSS VOLUNTEER
Jean Newton was 15 when her mother died. Like many elder and dutiful daughters of the time she picked up the pieces and helped her father run the household. In 1937, when she was 24, they had just finished supper when her dad asked if she had looked “out front lately?”
“No,” she said, “I’ve been busy getting dinner.”
“Well, take a look,” he encouraged. And there, in front of the house, stood this beautiful shiny car. Her father asked Jean if she liked it.
“That’s when I realized that something was up,” I guess, and asked, “have you bought this car?” After all, noone in the family drove. Her father was the chief fur buyer for Northways Department store in Toronto and he always took the red rocket streetcar to work. A neighbour had delivered the car.
Dad replied that he had been learning. In fact, the young lad that Newton was going with was teaching her to drive just for the fun of it. “So dad said that I should get my licence so I could drive the car.”
Newton got her licence and eventually her father got his. It was a 1937 4-door Chevrolet that they called Petunia. “People had a habit of naming their cars at one time.”
When WW2 broke out Jean Newton volunteered to work with the Red Cross. She had to work for a living and, at first, did not realize that the Red Cross had a night corps for business girls. “You had to be in the Red Cross for a few months before you could sign up for overseas duty,” she said.
“We would go to the Christie Street Hospital and pick up a bunch of fellows and take them to Maple Leaf Gardens for a hockey game. We had no seats. The seats were for the fellows. After the game we would drive them back to the hospital. We had to be able to drive anything.”
Once Jean discovered that she could go overseas she signed up. “I felt that I was a young, healthy person, no ties, no responsibilities and I should try my best to do my part in the war.”
She took the train to New York City and boarded the “Rang-a-ticky.” Travelling by convoy it took 5 days to Liverpool. “There were two troop ships and us.” As most readers know a convoy travels only as fast as the slowest ship. “We could see the battleships on the horizon.”
At Liverpool an awaiting troop train took them to London. “I can remember it was late November and there was a bottle of ink in the desk in my room and when I woke up the ink was frozen solid. You had to deposit twenty-five cents for the heater to work. We were young and healthy and the cold didn’t bother us as it does now.”
“I can’t remember how many driving tests I took in various vehicles and driving conditions to be an ambulance driver. We had to be very proficient and a calm type of person who didn’t panic.” In fact, ambulance drivers were also responsible for basic mechanics.
Newton drove an Austin Field Ambulance that carried 4 stretchers or 17 sitters. It was right hand drive. (Even in Canada they were trained on right hand drive vehicles in preparation for overseas duty.) “It was standard transmission, 4 gears forward, left hand shift.”
Newton was stationed a Down Ampney in the southern part of England, just outside the Village of Lidyard Millicent, in cold hastily built barracks which were long, with 15 beds on each side. “Your space was filled with a canvas cot and your trunk. There was no insulation and you could see outside through the cracks in the walls. A little wood stove in the middle heated the barracks.”
As part of an air evacuation unit Newton would join a convoy of as many as 30 ambulances that would travel to the airfield. “My ambulance licence was GXY789.”
“When these lads came back they only had field dressings. The worst one was a fellow who had lost part of his face. Burn victims would catch the burns on their chests, face and hands. You never forgot that smell. Once it got in your lungs it would stay for days and that’s all you could smell.”
The ambulance drivers were alone and if they ever had a bad case someone would accompany the patient. On one particular occasion a young lad needed a ride but there wasn’t anyone available for escort so Newton had to go it alone. Nine-tenths of the driving was at night and there were no lights. All was blacked out for fear of bombing raids. One ambulance head light was capped and only a one inch slit was left on the other to drive by. “You really didn’t want a nice clear night because the planes would come over.”
“That young fellow was alright but you never knew. They told me don’t be surprised at anything. We don’t like you going alone but there’s nothing we can do. I wasn’t particularly nervous. I did what I had to do. We were going along, not a light, everything blacked out when all of a sudden there was a loud ‘WHOOOPPIE!!!’ in the back. When I landed back in my seat I pulled over to check the fellow. He was sitting in the back as happy as can be.”
“On I went to Oxford. All the hospitals were specialized. Oxford specialized in head injuries. I was glad when that night was over.”
After the war ended Newton and the other drivers were inoculated to go to Europe to help with the cleanup but their excitement was short lived as they weren’t needed. “We returned on either the Queen Mary or the Queen Elizabeth. Both were fast ships.”
Following the war Jean Newton married George Robinson and together they raised two children, a girls and a boy. The daughter, Barbara, later married Barney Moorhouse, author of this tale. Jean Newton spent her later days living with Barb, Barney and her grands. Before she passed away she retold her story of how, as a young girl, with only a few years of driving experience, she met adventure and danger head on in the challenging job of being a volunteer Red Cross ambulance driver.