A last post for Ruby Gordon Peterkin

RUBY GORDON PETERKIN. (Sept. 1, 1887 – June 4, 1961).

After serving as a Nursing Sister during the Great War Ruby Peterkin was invalided home to Toronto, sailing from Liverpool on September 20, 1918. Her return was heralded in The Toronto World  (Oct. 8, 1918) in a story that notes her three years of military service in France, Malta, Salonika, Gallipoli and England.

Ruby in the garden of the house at 34 Oakmount ca. 1912

On Armistice Day in November,1918, she was told that she would be transferred to the Invalid Soldiers’ Commission for further treatment as a patient. Her ailment? The presiding doctor stated that she had gained weight, which was good, but “she has a slight active pulmonary tuberculosis with evidence of fibrosis at the right apex and chronic pleurisy.” He recommended that she be discharged to the I.S.C. for treatment at Calydor Sanatorium (in Gravenhurst).  Her recovery took a year’s time.

In 1920 Ruby married Hugh Alexander McKay (July 19, 1884 – Feb. 14, 1935).  He was a doctor, a psychiatric specialist.  He served throughout the First War in the Army Medical Corps and then was Medical Doctor at the Ontario Hospital in Hamilton. When he died in 1935 he was serving as Medical Superintendent of the Mimico Hospital.

Ruby and Hugh (right)

To go back to Ruby’s letters from Europe during the war years, we can be certain that we are given a carefully curated glimpse of her time spent  as a nursing sister.  The letters that survive were all written to her sister Irene. There would have been many others to family and friends, including to her future husband Dr. Hugh McKay. Before being mailed all letters were first read and then approved by the censor which meant that she could not share with her readers even an hint of the human suffering and horrors that she undoubtedly witnessed. Among numerous references to family members there is no mention of her father, Charles Robert Peterkin, sr. Was there a rift as a result of his remarriage to Annie Mollon in 1913? We know there were some Peterkins who strongly disapproved of the marriage and Ruby as one of his youngest children may well have been among them.

The Peterkins at 34 Oakmount in 1912. Ruby sits between her sister Irene (in hat) and her father Charles R. Also seen is her brother Ernest and her aunt Annie Peterkin.

Now a brief summary of Ruby’s life to round out this blog post. Ruby graduated from the Toronto General Hospital Nursing School in 1911 and then occupied herself with private nursing until 1915. After her husband died in 1935 Ruby lived in Toronto at various addresses: the Park Plaza Hotel at the corner of Bloor & Avenue Rd., and then in a four-plex at Mt. Pleasant and Blythwood avenues where her great-nieces and nephews remember being amazed by her budgerigar Timmy who could clearly recite his name and address. She is remembered also for having her own movie camera, and entertaining family  members with colour movies taken on special occasions and during her travels in Australia.

 

Ruby’s house at Bolton, Ontario. Irene standing in front.

In 1953 Ruby and Irene built houses side by side near Bolton, Ont. In Nov. 1954 Ruby was injured in a serious motor accident and after that was in and out of hospital, and then lived for nearly two years with Ernest and Irene in Georgetown, Ont. She was transferred to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital and from there to a nursing home at 80 Wychwood Park, Toronto, where she died in 1961..

Ruby Peterkin’s records in the Canadian Army Medical Corps collection in Library and Archives Canada give details of her service as a nursing sister. These include her Attestation Paper, Certificate of Service in the Canadian Expeditionary Force (October 8, 1919), listings of her postings and transfers while on active service in Europe, her medical history as an invalid. and her record of assigned pay. For example her pay for service in 1915 was $60 a month and thereafter $50 a month. In 1920 she received a War Service Gratuity of $549.00.

Ruby is fondly remembered by her great-niece, Mary F. Williamson.

 

One of Ruby’s medals awarded for her service as a Nursing Sister in World War I.

 

 

 

“I think I shall wear uniform always…” (Ruby’s last letter)

In September of 1917 Nursing Sister Ruby Peterkin had been granted leave by the Medical Board but had not yet been diagnosed with tuberculosis. In November she would be posted to No. 4 Canadian General Hospital in Basingstoke, England, this time as a patient rather than a nurse. She is given leave to travel in Scotland.

It was back in 1912 that Ruby and Irene had enjoyed a long summer holiday with the Rosedale Travel Club which took them to Scotland. This time Ruby’s travelling companion is a Miss Austin who would be Pearl Beatrice Austin of Fenelon Falls. Like Ruby, Nursing Sister Austin has been unwell, in her case as a result of her military service. 

 Among the highlights are tea at Balmoral Castle with the castle house-keeper Miss Rothuie (the Windsors were not at home) and then a short stay at Monaltrie House, a 200-year old stately home where they are the guests of the residents, Mr. and Mrs. Yarrow.

 This is the final World War I Ruby Peterkin letter that has survived. It has been an extraordinary three years for her, and in many ways a “fun time” although strict wartime censorship shielded her readers from the horrors she undoubtedly experienced as a nurse in Salonika. In her final words, “we get cheap rates everywhere and every one you meet will help you out and go out of their way to be decent to you. I think I shall wear uniform always.”

There will be one further post with  an  illustrated summary of Ruby’s return to Toronto and marriage to Dr. Hugh McKay, her recovery from TB in the Calydor Sanatarium in Gravenhurst, and busy life after the war.

 Oban, Scotland, Oct. 9 – 1917

Dear Rene –

It is over a week since I wrote to you last and we have been on the go ever since. I don’t think I have written since I left London, have I ? It has been rather strenuous since then, it is hard to remember.

We came up to Edinburgh (I believe I did write from there) and left early Sunday a.m. for Aberdeen. In the afternoon we did that city – took the train out to the River Don  saw the old bridge and walk along the old road to the old Cathedral of Machar which is on the site of the first Christian Church in Scotland and was built itself in 1357 or there about. We saw the old college and then took the train across the city to the River Don and saw the old bridge there. Both of these are about five hundred years old. Then next morning we went out by train to Ballater. Do you remember my telling you of a Mrs. Carlisle who I met in London before I went to France. I had tea with her one day and she took us motoring. Well, I phoned her when I was in London and went to see her. When I told her I was going to

Balmoral Castle

Scotland she said she had a sister living at Ballater and to be sure to go to see her if I went there that the house she lived in was worth seeing in itself. So Miss Austin and I wanted to see Balmoral (8 miles from Ballater) so decided to stay in Ballater, see Bal. that p.m. and go on to Braemar next day. We went to call on Mrs. Yarrow (Mrs. Carlisle’s sister) early in the afternoon. The house is about a mile from the village but the grounds and drive reach down to one end of the village. The house is Monaltrie House and was the old home of the

Monaltrie House today

Farquharsons of Invercauldie. They have built a new house (some fifty years ago) and the Yarrows lease this one and the grounds and live in it in the summer.  Their winter residence is in London. They have been going up there for thirty-four years. The house is over two hundred years old, a long low white stone building full of lovely old furniture. Mr. and Mrs. Yarrow and her sister Mrs. Galbraith were charming to us and Mrs. Yarrow insisted on our staying with them. They have not been running their car since the war began, having loaned it for Red Cross work but Mrs. Galbraith got a car and drove us to Balmoral that p.m. They have made friends with the house-keeper there and she showed us all over the Castle then gave us tea in her rooms. Tea in Balmoral Castle – my dear – I may mention that none of the Windsor family were are home, and Miss Rothuie (the h-k) asked us not to say anything about been through their residence.

We intended going on to Braemar next day and returning the day after as there is only one coach a day running now and it returns early in the a.m. but Mr. Yarrow got a car and he and Mrs. Galbraith drove us to Braemar, and about eight miles beyond to the Lyn of Dee where the Dee River runs between chasms in the rocks only about four feet wide and the water rushes at a terrific rate. It is absolutely beautiful and the drive is wonderful – past Mar Castle, the home of the Duchess of Fife, and Invercauldie House. We had lunch at Braemar and returned to Monaltrie House in time for tea. The meals we had there!! The dinners were wonderful and the table a dream. We went out to the garden next morning. It [is] quite a walk from the house thro the Park and is surrounded by a stone wall all around which fruit trees have been trained like vines close to the wall. It is like the gardens one reads about with a green house and a sun dial in the middle. Then we went down to see the game-keeper starting out with a few non-descript men on a hunt, with the dogs following on chains. Then they took us to see the kennels where the rest of the dogs were.

On the whole it is a perfectly delightful place surrounded by hills and the River Dee flowing in front. They have five maids, a boy, a game-keeper, a ghillie (a fish-keeper) three gardeners and then they told us they had let nearly all the men servants go when the war began! And yet they were the simplest and sweetest people you could imagine – not a suspicion of swank.

Well, we left there (with deep regret) on Wednesday for Aberdeen and got the train for Inverness. We did Inverness Thursday a.m. drove out Culloden Moor in p.m. and left Friday by boat down the Caledonian Canal to Fort Augustus. It was cold and rainy nearly all the way but we stayed on deck most of the time. The scenery was so wonderful – snow on all the mountain-tops. In fact, we had had snow that a.m. We stayed at Fort Augustus that night and Miss Austin & I came on to Fort William along the side of the locks. Stagg returned to Edinburgh to meet her sister. We had about four hours in F. Wm. and the man in a little shop where we bought post cards told us we should walk over to Banavie where we would get a much better view of Ben Nevis. He said it was only three miles but they must have been Scotch miles! We saw Inver Lochy Castle on the way and it was only about two thirds of the way there and I read in the guide book that it was three and a half miles from F. Wm. However, we reached Banavie but had the time to take the stroll by the canal recommended by our friend Mr. McIntyre. We turned right round and walked right home again and while about a mile and a half from the town saw a motor coming. We were desperate enough to hail it and ask for a ride. It was a private car but empty so the man drove us back in time to get the coach. We motored therefore to Ballachulish and crossed in the ferry to the hotel. It is practically closed for the season but the proprietress is an awfully good sort and took us in to the family. She has two of the sweetest little girls five and eight and her husband is a Captain in the Vetinary [sic] Corps in Salonique. She has three brothers out there too. The hotel is probably one of the finest in the season. It is the most magnificent spot you can imagine. You should go there on your honeymoon, Rene, I can recommend it. It rained all day Sunday and we sat by the fire. Monday we took the boat up to Kinlochleven and had lunch there. To-day we came on by train to Oban. To-morrow we go by motor coach to Ardrishaig then by boat to Glasgow. We shall take a flying look at Loch Lomond and then go down to Devonshire, to Lynmouth probably and settle down for our leave returning to London a few days before the first of Nov. when we have to appear there before the board.

It is great travelling in uniform, we get cheap rates everywhere and every one you meet will help you out and go out of their way to be decent to you. I think I shall wear uniform always.

Ruby in uniform

Do let Ern and Minnie and the Madison Ave. family read this itinerary because I could never write it all our again. If you see Mossie you might also let her read it. Do you ever see her?

One thing we have both acquired on this trip and that is chilblains, so if you have not already changed those boots I sent back, you had better get them only one size narrower, same length you know. To think of going all thro Salonique without them and then getting them in Scotland! Horrible isn’t it?

I expect to get mail in Glasgow so hope to hear from you there. For any fuller details of our trip, see guide book.

Yours as ever,

Ruby

“We had heaps of fun …”

Ruby with several of her soldier patients in Kalamaria, the suburb of Salonika where the Canadian hospital was located.

In an incomplete letter to her sister Irene Nursing Sister Ruby Peterkin looks back over her long but clearly fun-filled sea voyage from Salonika to England via Crete and Taranto, Italy, where they boarded a train.

Ruby has returned from tending patients at the Canadian Medical Hospital #4 in Salonika over a span of almost two years. It seems the ship departed Salonika just days before the city was almost totally destroyed by fire on August 18 and 19. Ruby’s letter, written in September 1917, lacks its first page  and presumably the name of the ship, and her thoughts on the departure. As always, Ruby shares details with her sister Irene about the Canadian officers with whom they had “heaps of fun.”  She doesn’t mention the pneumonia and impending TB which soon will send her to hospital as a patient.

c/o Matron-in-Chief, 133 Oxford, Cranston’s Kenilworth Hotel’

Great Russell Street, W.C. 1, [Sept.] 1917

… from Ruby’s album. Could this be the ship that takes her to England?

We left Salonique on the 17^th on a transport – the day before that hapless city was consumed by fire. The sisters from No. 5 & No. 1 Canadian and about 100 Br. officers on leave were also on board. Also the men of the three Can. Hosps. but only Maj. McVicar and Capt. Trump and two officers from 1^st & 5^th came. The remainder of the officers were to follow shortly. The boat was very comfortable and we had a great trip among the Isles of Greece, travelling only at night and stopping in harbour in the day time. In most of the harbour we could get ashore and go in swimming. We had three days at Crete and had a great time. There are some of the naval men there who have not been home since Gallipoli and have not seen English girls since then. The first afternoon they gave a picnic in a little cove for twelve of us. We went in swimming and then had tea on the rocks and went back to the boat at nine o’clock.

The next day, I and three other sisters went ashore with Maj. McVicar and up to the town which is about three miles in. We had lunch and then I just had time to dash back to the ship in time to meet two of the naval officers who were to call for Miss Austin and I at 2 o’cl. They took us in the town again – you went by sail-boat to the dock then took a carriage – we had ices and tea and then drove back in the island and saw the house where Venezelos was born. There is a gorge which goes right across the island and we drove a long way up this. It was beautiful. Then we came back to the club house – the naval officers have on and had dinner there. It was too funny for any thing because it is not at all like a club house at home. There are really no eats in it and they had gone to a tremendous lot of trouble to bring dishes and eats and everything from their ships over there then they made an omelette on a primus stove for a hot dish.

There were four other girls, Scottish women, and four other officers – at the dinner too. We had heaps of fun.

Then the next day we had another bathing picnic on shore but had to be on board at four so these two nice officers came on and had tea with us there and we sailed again at six.

We were on the transport eleven days, going from Salonique to Taranto. We left Taranto the same day – Monday and came up through Italy by the troop route and so missed Rome. The Italian journey was unspeakably hot, dusty and uncomfortable. We had no berths and no where to wash and travelled without a break from 3 o’clock Monday till twelve midnight Tuesday except two hours in Boulogria at noon, where we had lunch. Otherwise, we dashed out at every station where there was a buffet, grabbed all the food we could reach, threw them some money and scrambled back on the train flourishing our trophies. And if you could have seen us washing in a three minute stop under the drip from the pipe that fills the engine – Matron and all – with one eye on the train. It was really worth having a moving picture then.

We arrived in Torino at 12 and I think would have mentioned if we had to go on that night or next morning. However, they took us to a good hotel and we did not leave till 5 next day. Then we had dinner at Modane on the frontier and changed into a French train which was much more comfortable although we still did not have sleepers. We arrived in Paris at 10.a.m.

We had two days in Paris then crossed the channel Saturday night and arrived here at noon yesterday. Do you wonder that I thought of nothing but getting to bed? Capt. Trump came all the way with us and Maj. McVicar with the men. They were both supposed to go with the men so that we had to kind of smuggle Capt Trump along and what we should have done without him I do not know.

 We are all to go to Basingstoke on Thursday and have 3 weeks leave from there —

“The submarine is just full of machinery…”

Once again we are looking back precisely 100 years. With strict censorship still in force nursing sister Ruby Peterkin relies on stories of her off-duty amusements in Salonika, Greece, to brighten the life of her sister Irene back home in Toronto. An invitation to take a tour all over the British submarine HMS E11 was a genuine thrill. Last year the submarine had been involved at Gallipoli against Turkey, and before its mission was over E11 would sink 85 enemy vessels in the Sea of Marmara.

Picnics and tea were always something to look forward to, especially when suggested by Canadian officers. Ruby’s brother Charles, with his family which included her nieces Theresa and Marie who are close to her in age, had moved to 285 High Park Ave. in Toronto. The “kiddies” are Irene’s kindergarten pupils.

No. 4 Canadian Hosp
Greece, April 14-16

Dear Rene, —
I fear it is ages since I wrote you, but you know it was ages and ages before I got your letter since the one before.

You certainly had one awful time with those boxes. It is too bad you had to repack them. They have not come yet but parcels always take at least two weeks longer than letters. We have heard that they are not going to accept any more parcels in the mails for the Mediterranean forces. Is this true?
How did your dance come off? Your description of Minnie’s sounded good. Think of it, we have not danced since we joined the army, and such excellent opportunities going to waste.

Things are going along much the same here. We are busy the weeks we receive (every third week) and not at other times. We are still having one day a week off.

British submarine HMS E11

I must tell you the wonderful thing we did the other day. Last Saturday, Capt. Foster, (you know, the A.S.C. Off. with the hyphen in his name) sent me over a note asking four of us to go for a picnic. So he called in his car at one o’clock (on Sunday) and he had one of his own officers and a naval officer with him. This naval off., Lt. Brown, was from the submarine the E11 which was in the harbor at the time. You know it is the wonderful one which got up behind Heliogoland three times and has torpedoed 94 enemy craft in the sea of Marmora. Well, Capt. Fletcher went with us (that is the new rule that we have to be accompanied by one of our own officers wherever we go) and four went in the car and took the provisions and four of us walked. We went up to a ravine about four miles from here and had a great time. When we got back Col. Roberts seized the naval officer and made him stay to dinner. He had been down on the submarine the day before, it seemed. Now this made things very simple for Mr. Brown had asked us to come down and have tea there on Tuesday so, knowing Col. Roberts made this easily arranged for he got ambulances to take us down. We went all over the submarine and it [is] just full of machinery. They have really very little space to live in. But when they are in harbour they always anchor alongside a larger boat and live on it. We had tea on the “Prince George” which is the old battleship they were living on. It is worth coming to the war just to have been on the E11. You never pick up a magazine hardly but there is something about it and pictures and Commander Nasmith who got the V.C. or D’Oyley Hughes or Lt. Brown both of whom got the D.S.O. There are just three officers, thirty-six men altogether.

Give my best to everybody at High Park Ave. I do mean to write to them but it is so hard writing letters. I will try to write a little for Aunt Clara’s Red Cross, but if I can get the films and take some pictures it would make it more interesting for my powers of description are very limited. (I realize this on reading over my description of the submarine, but you read it up in any magazine. We saw it all.)

Nursing sisters and officers enjoying tea (?!)

I was in town with Capt. F. the Sunday before last and then for a long drive out towards the mountains – we have had various picnics. A very successful one with this same A.S.C. off. and one of his, and Capts. Wookey and Van Wyck. The four of us in our tent went. There is a glorious ravine about four miles away, the same one we went to Sunday, only this was farther down and it is green there (all rocks up farther). There is one real tree growing in it. I have been riding quite a bit but I fear they are going to put a stop to that because one sister at 29th Hosp. fell off her horse and was hurt. We are getting frightfully fed up here. I hope something happens soon.

Irene Peterkin posing in a Greek costume that her sister must have sent her from Salonika.

Are you busy now? How are the kiddies? Did you get your appointments and where is Theresa now? Minnie told me you were getting my dresser enamelled for your use at her house. That’s fine. I wish you were out here and seeing all these things that we are, but on the other hand it is a great relief to know that all the people I care about are safely at home.

Is Andy still counting on being married in June? I must send them a wedding present.

Best love, Ruby

A Zeppelin raid on Salonika

 

Once again we have arrived at the 100th anniversary of one of Ruby Peterkin’s letters. Ruby’s top news of today is the raid by a German Zeppelin (LZ85) on Salonika, and the French bringing down “a big German machine” with two passengers taken prisoner. The “machine” is not the Zeppelin which was brought down three months later over Salonika by HMS Agamemnon, a British warship.

souvenir paper knife of the downing of Zeppelin LZ85 at Salonika on May 5, brought home by Ruby

Otherwise work  is fairly calm for the nursing sister. She is out motoring with her “young crush” who seems to be not as demanding of her attention as usual.

This time she suggests that a “care” parcel from home include writing paper – Paget’s daylight paper — that can be used for printing photographs, film, and “the necessities for developing”. Ruby asks her sister Irene to consult with Marie (who is this blogger’s mother and who in 1916 is in her first year at the University of Toronto)  who will “know all that is required”. Irene’s “young cherubs” would be her kindergarten pupils at Ryerson Public School in Toronto.

Ruby can’t pass on to her sister news of the war because of strict censorship.

No.4 Canadian General Hosp.
February 2 – 1916

Dear Rene –
Do you notice that I am writing on Minnie’s paper? I am quite fond of it. I have not had any word from you since I wrote you last and fear you are not attending fully to your duties as a correspondent.

I suppose you have read about the Zeppelin raid on the town the other night. We were awakened about three o’clock by the noise of the bombs and were all out to see what was going on. It was a bitterly cold night and our costumes varied. Every little while you would have to retire and put on another coat or gown or something. We could see the flash of the bursting bombs and then the fire started and the reflection light up the sky. There was considerable damage done. Wasn’t it fun that the French brought down a big German machine. They have it at the French camp just a few miles up the road from here and I am going up at my earliest opportunity to see it if possible also the two German prisoners who were on it if they will allow.

from the Globe & Mail, Feb. 4, 1916

Had three days off last week and this week we are to have two days off. This just keeps us comfortably while on duty. Was out motoring last Sunday p.m. with my young crush and had tea at their mess, but fear he is not of lasting quality for he has not been as assiduous in his attentions this week – has only been down once a day most days and has taken “no” for an answer on only about the third repetition of his numerous invitations to tea, dinner, walk, &c, &c.

Our mess fees are going up and up. Everything is outrageously expensive here. Just paid my mess fee for the month to-day – four pounds. Laundry is ruinous. Woe is me. Don’t worry about those cheques. I never meant you to pay them back – not till future years when you are financially established or at least have married your millionaire. And, by the way, will you send me some I.A. Junior films 2 ½ x 4 ¼. Send four rolls at a time three times with an interval of a week or so apart. Also some brown hair pins. Get a cheque from Hugh. And will you send me some writing paper so I can print my pictures myself and the stuff to do it with. I don’t think I could tackle the developing myself, but may be able to get them developed. Agnes Campbell has a Kodak you know, but films are six francs for a ½ dozen roll in Salonique – nothing doing! Paget’s daylight paper is the best – mat. However, you might send some of the kind you do by lamp light too. Marie will know all that is required and be sure to enclose directions. Perhaps I could develop too. Lots of the girls are doing it. Do you think you could send all the necessities for developing?

Had a card from Miss Sims and one from Miss Curry the other day. Also one from Walter Smith of the Q.O.R.

By the way I think it is better to go back to the old address Matron-in-Chief MacDonald, 86 Strand, London. The letters come more quickly than those addressed directly here. Besides we may go to Egypt in the spring.

Must go to bed now. Best love. Am enclosing a cut design for the delectation of your cherubs. One of the patients here did it free hand.

Ruby

How is the sorority coming on, and did you have the dance yet? Give it my best love the next time you meet. Am sorry I cannot give you any news of the war. There is nothing doing.
R.

“About eats — more anon…”

The letter below to Irene Peterkin was composed by her sister Ruby Peterkin precisely 100 years ago. Ruby has some “slack time” – only 350 soldier patients for a couple of weeks – and excursions into town are permitted.  Ruby requests the family to send her some of the comforts of home: hair pins, hair-nets, tooth paste and cold cream, and edibles such as coffee, tea tablets, biscuits and oatmeal cookies stuffed with dates. In the detailed instructions for how the parcel should be packed there is a hint of the take-charge Ruby she would be for the rest of her life.

Ruby goes into Salonika from the hospital which is located in a suburb, Kalamaria. She is accompanied by fellow Canadian nursing sisters Madge McCort, Daisy Dean and Jean Martin, and several Canadian officers. Of Salonika she writes: “It is the quaintest and dirtiest place you can imagine.”

The young “crush” who takes her for outings is still very much around. Here we learn details of the welcome “eats” placed before them when he takes her to dinner in the officers’ mess tent .

It seems that her older sister Ethel May Peterkin and “Auntie”, who is Annie Gordon Peterkin, the sister of her father Charles Peterkin, had both sent “care” parcels earlier.

No. 4, Canadian General Hosp
Salonica, Jan. 23 – 1915 [i.e. 1916]

Dear Rene –
It is ages since I wrote to you and ages since I have heard from you – over two weeks. The last letter was the one in which you told me about your shooting trip and the shooting coat and rifle. Now who is Mr. Winters? A man who sheds shooting coats and rifles on his friends sounds interesting.

The box came a few days ago and thanks ever so much. The bed socks were just the thing. I bought a pair in London but believe me they are really worn out for they have had constant use. The rose-colored bows made me quite home-sick. I liked the stockings very much and they will save darning. Tell Ethel and Auntie I will write both of them very soon to thank them.

Well, my dear, I cannot claim that I have been too busy to write. I am still on the officers’ wards and the last few days we have had four patients and four sisters. We have had only about three hundred and fifty patients altogether for a couple of weeks. However it has been cold weather for the last few days and we got quite a convoy in to-day so by the time you get this we may be fearfully busy. However, we have been making the best of our slack time The four of us in our tent got our half day last Tuesday and gave a tea (in our tent) and invited about thirty of the sisters. It was a huge success being the first of its kind to be given here, and we paid off all our social obligations for the little parties we have been asked to in the other girls’ tents in the evenings. You see a lot of them have been getting boxes of eats from home and then they have a party. Of eats – more anon.

Salonika in photo by Ruby

Then on Wednesday Miss Dickeson came around and said that McCort, Dean and Martin were going to town next day and there was room for another and would I like to go. So of course I said yes. So we all had the whole day off and went to town in the afternoon. You see, we are not allowed to go to town although we are just about 4 ½ miles out – in fact no one below the rank of Colonel is supposed to go unless on duty – and then only with a pass. Well, the Quarter Master takes three or four sisters in, in an ambulance nearly every afternoon on an official sightseeing trip. You put your name in to go, but usually the days are taken up weeks ahead. I had not put my name in at all for a reason I will tell you later on. Well we had a great time. Capt. Van Wyck went as well as Capt. Trump and then we met Capt. Thompson the paymaster in here. It is the quaintest and dirtiest place you can imagine. The streets crowded with solders, mostly officers, British, French and Greeks, and the people are of every nationality in Europe – and America. They speak French or else German in all the shops, and they do you at every turn. The prices of ordinary articles of use is appalling and half the things that are necessities of life you cannot get. Then there are heaps and heaps of “antique” shops and a whole street they call their Bazaar with

the populace in Salonika

nothing else than curios – brass, copper, old revolvers &c. &c. They ask fearful prices at first but you can beat them down you know. I got an old brass hot water jug for five francs. They say a good many of the antiques are made in Sheffield, England, but I am sure mine is genuine. We had tea at the Café Roma where every one goes for afternoon tea and got back about seven.

Now the reason I did not ask to go to town was that I had already been in, and although I do not think anyone knew I was afraid they were holding it up their sleeves and if I asked to go that they would pounce upon me – that is to say that the matron would. I don’t think I told you that I had a young crush out here – a patient of mine – an A.S.C. – 2nd Lieut. and he has a car at his disposal so while he was still in the hospital he got one of his brother officers to bring the car over and I walked down to the road and met them and we went in and had tea and got back in time for me to be on duty again at 4.30. But while we were in the Café Roma didn’t the personally conducted party of sisters from here walk in. But I guess they didn’t split for I have not heard any thing further of it.

Well my young crush went back to camp which is about a mile up the road, last Tuesday. He had wanted me to go out to dinner with him but I said the only way it could be arranged was to get up a party. So we got an invitation for last Friday night. McCort, Laura Gamble who is in charge of the officers’ wards, Nora Campbell and myself. Lt. Andrews called for us and took us up in his car. Dinner was at seven-thirty and was not over till after nine. It was some dinner. They have a fairly good sized mess tent and there were five of them. It was really quite a wonderful dinner for active service. They had been keeping a few chickens and they were sacrificed in our honor. The fish course was canned salmon and we had roast beef and vegetables and pudding and nuts and raisins and candies. Oh, some dinner, I assure you! They were a little short on table equipment. The fish was served in pink and blue soup plates and the next course in white soup plates. The next in pink and blue and the next in white – with a faint sound of dish washing in the far distance. Then, too, the man would slip you a knife and fork and spoon that you were dimly conscious of having seen in some previous course. But it certainly was some dinner. Then after dinner we sat around the oil stoves and talked and then at ten o’clock they drove us home.

Did I mention that the O.C. of the company my crush belongs to had been coming up to see him with increasing frequency while he was in the hospital. Well, on Friday night he asked me if I would like to go out for a drive today (Sunday) well – would I not? I guess I would. So my dear I have just been for the most perfectly glorious drive right up the mountain road to the very top, to the very last camp of the British forces and the trenches are just beyond over the mountains. It was perfectly great. Capt. Foster (he has another name with a hyphen before the Foster but in No. 4 Can-Gen we drop all hyphens on active service except Capt. Livingstone-Learmouth who is a patient and we were afraid to drop any of his for fear we might get to call him Leary.) Anyway I was going to say that Capt. Foster drove the car and his man sat behind. We went thro one village in the mountain. There is only one road thro and it is only wide enough for one vehicle so they have a telephone thro the town and when any thing starts thro at one end they phone thro to the other and traffic is held up there. We were across what will probably be the battle field in the spring.

Then one other day we were up the mountain road in another direction to the French camp. I have not time to give you all the details but some British guns are up there and some Br. officers and men have been lent to the French to run them. One of these officers called for us in a motor lorry and five of us went up and had tea at their mess. They invited

officers and nursing sisters drinking tea

two French officers too and then they all drove home with us in the lorry. We were home by six but it was clear moon light. This expedition however was also one to keep close under your hat. So you see we are having some compensations in our strenuous life and quite a lot of things are coming my way.

Now, my dear, I want a heap of things but cannot seem to remember them all just at once. Will you get these things for me and write Hugh for a check for the amount please? I have told him I wanted a check for some things.

I want a pair of tan rubbers for a 5-B boot with medium pointed toes. I may have to get you send me ‘boots’ too but think I will try to get them in Salonica if possible. Some invisible hair pins – brown if possible. Some hair-nets medium size. A black silk jersey petticoat and some kind of plain narrow petticoat raw silk – if possible – to wear with my wash uniforms. Several tubes of Kolynos tooth paste, 2 large tubes of Daggett and Ramsdell’s cold cream. Also 2 pairs of Can walking gloves, Deuts, if possible, or Fownes. Short black hat pins. I got some in Eaton’s before I left. Some white headed pins ▬▬▬▬▬▬ about that long, with as small a head as you can. Some Martha Washington prepared coffee – quite a bit of it and tea tablets if you get such things in Toronto. Also any other eats you can think of – biscuits cream cheese, and a box of cream soda biscuits. Also I have been dreaming of those oatmeal cookies with a date rolled in each! Real home made. The eats here are good but plain – very plain, and I could dispose of quite a lot of eats from time to time. There are a lot more things I want I know but cannot think of them at present. The best way to pack these is in a tin box – a strong one, and pack them tight, with the hard things inside and soft things rolled around them. Then the box should have some thing soft around it like … or cotton-wool and then sewn up in factory cotton and the address printed plainly. This sounds like a lot of work but perhaps Minnie would help you in your odd moments.

Good-night for the present. Ruby

Snow and sleet

Although the censor won’t allow Ruby to tell people back home where “there” is, she is destined to be stationed for the next 19 months in Kalamaria, a suburb of Salonika which is now known as Thessaloniki.  Among the nursing sisters from back home are E. Mildred Clarke, Agnes Browning Baird and Sarah Agnes Campbell. The Capt. Trump she mentions is Leonard Thomas Trump who was born in Bristol, England, and has been living in Toronto with his wife Ann at 164 Beech Ave.

The winter weather continues to be a source of extreme discomfort. The nursing sisters improvise new styles of outlandish clothing to ward off the cold, and festoon their tents with blankets and rag rugs on the so-called “floors”. Coal-oil stoves provide a modicum of comfort.

The challenges extend to a lack of water for laundry and personal use. Meals are “good” although bread is scarce and everybody is reduced to hard tack.

Convoys of new soldier patients are brought in daily to the medical ward.

Ruby sends greetings to her niece Marie Curtis Peterkin (this blogger’s mother) and to her sister-in-law Minnie Peterkin.

It is close to Christmas of 1915, with 1916 just around the corner. Wearing pre-war style clothing that covered her from head to toe, and concerned that someone might actually be able to see her socks, could Ruby begin to imagine life in 2016?!

No. 4 Canadian General Hospital
British Forces in Greece
December 3rd – 15.

Dear People –
I want to tell you all about everything, and as it will be greatly the same I am writing a kind of Round Robin effect to save time – although time is not as great a consideration now, as heat and energy. When I tell you that I am sitting as nearly on top of a coal-oil stove as I can get and wearing woollen gloves and a sweater coat, you will understand why I am condensing as much as possible.

Now to begin at the beginning. We had a fearfully rough passage from Malta, and everyone was sick. We were all pretty tired you see, and could not fight it off. We arrived here a week ago last Tuesday and after a wait of about 20 min. on the dock the ambulances conveyed us out to the camp, about four miles. I don’t know whether I told you all that twelve of our sisters had remained on the “Kildonan” to staff it when we were put off at Malta. They made the trip out here and then, the boat acquiring a staff of British sisters, they were left off here, so of course were here when we arrived. The officers and men had been here about ten days. They had had patients sent in to them thirty hours after they arrived so you may imagine how they had to work to be ready for them, for of course there was not a tent pitched.

Then the twelve sisters arrived a week later and they were beginning to get things running in a small way, when we arrived. They were all most glad to see us, I may say.

The hospital has almost an ideal situation, a little back from the road on slightly sloping ground, and then the officers and our quarters at the top of the slope. The officers in bell-tents one in each tent, and we have large marquees with four in a marquee. I am with Miss Clarke and Miss Baird (Prof Baird’s daughter of Winnipeg, both she and Miss Clarke are graduates of the Presbyterian, N.Y.) and Agnes Campbell. We have the end tent in the third row (and there are four rows) up near the mess tent. Ours

Mess hall

and the officers’ mess are run conjointly, with the same kitchen, although separate mess tents. Some of us are very glad of this for we are sure of good meals, at any rate as good as circumstances will allow. Food is very hard to get and prices appalling. I fear our mess fees will be very high. Laundry is ridiculous – fifty cents for a uniform, and twenty-cents each for aprons, and there they are not clean and no starch in them.

Well, it was about three o’clock when we struck the camp and we got our tents, left our grips and things in them and then had tea in the mess tent and most of the officers came over to welcome us. Our luggage did not arrive till after dark and we all had to stand around with lanterns and as each piece was unloaded one of the officers called out the name on it and the owner marched down to her tent in front of the men carrying it. It was quite exciting. We got our beds put up and that was about all, that night. We were each supplied with a mattress and three blankets – but I never cease to be glad that I brought my eiderdown.

The next day some of the sisters were on duty and the rest spent the day working around the tents. I was posted for night duty and went on that night. Well, the first night the cold was bearable, by wearing our sweaters and raincoats. The next night, it started to rain and it rained continuously from five in the morning till five at night, then it turned to snow and sleet and grew steadily colder. By the next morning everything was snowed over and frozen up. Talk about cold! And I thought it was cold in France, but France was balmy to what this was. You would have died to see the clothes we put on. I have good heavy flannel and a pair of cashmere socks and all my ordinary underclothes, then I put on a suit of flannel pyjamas and another pair of socks. Then my uniform and rubber boots. And top of that a little white sweater coat, then my big sweater and my big great coat. I have bought a Jaeger woollen cap and fortunately got fur-lined gloves in London, which I have worn steadily. Even then, by three o’clock in the morning, I was shivering. However, the weather has moderated, and I have left off the coat of my pyjamas the last few nights and the fur lined gloves and am wearing woolly gloves instead. Also my rain coat in place of the great coat. We have been given woollen socks and gloves out of the Red Cross stores and last night they gave each of us an overcoat from the same source. They had been sent out for the patients, but they thought we needed them more. Skirts are quite superfluous, and those who wear them pin them up to their knees, first on account of the snow and now for the mud. It was a happy genius that decided me to bring my rubber boots, for I pretty nearly hadn’t.

You know, we heard when in London that the sisters who had come to the Dardanelles were getting riding habits. Well, we quite understand now, why they needed them – not for riding, but for wearing on duty. Some of the girls have got corduroy trousers from town and I am trying to get a pair. Those of the sisters who are fortunate enough to have a particular friend among the officers, who has an extra pair, has borrowed them. I don’t know whether you can realize at home the necessity for this but it is very real, and of course we always have to wear a coat anyway. We have cut our rain coats off half way up to our knees and some of the girls have cut their great coats. Fortunately I did not cut my great coat and now we have been given these overcoats, they are short and will save our own.

During the very cold time, I used to creep into Agnes Campbell’s bed for she was on day duty and so we kept the bed warm. Now, however, they have got our tents banked and we have hung blankets round the walls, and they are much warmer. They have no floors of course, but we have procured malting from the Greeks, and it keeps the floor dry. Then we have four rag rugs one in front of each bed so we are quite comfortable. We were supplied with two oil stoves to a tent and we each purchased a lamp each from town. We are not allowed to leave the camp, but can send in orders with Capt. Trump who does some wonderful purchasing. We got Alice blue satin to cover our packing boxes and really our tent looks quite pretty and comfortable for our stoves painted Alice blue.

I don’t believe I mentioned the wind. Believe me it has been a most important factor of the weather, such vicious wind I have never known. Some night it kept us up half the time on the outside watching the tent ropes, and getting them tightened up, for I thought sure some of the tents could blow down. But after the ground froze up, the pegs stayed in better. Things are getting better all the way around now, but I think you will understand why I have not written anything except a note to Irene so far. The first four days I was on, I did not sleep more than two hours a day, but now I sleep like a top all day for I can keep pretty warm.

There is a great shortage of water so we are quite used to washing once a day in a tea cup. It has been too cold to bathe anyway. We fill our hot water bottle & then use the water when we get up to wash in. It is all chlorinated for drinking, besides being boiled and tea, coffee and cocoa all taste alike, of nothing in particular but chlorine. Also, there is some difficulty about procuring bread so that if we get enough for the patients we do well. We have been eating hard tack for days now. But outside of the bread and water our meals are good, only that the cook house was blown down and of course, for a day or two the meals were not much to boast of, for the wind was blowing so they could not get it up again.

I am on medical wards, six of them with thirty patients in each, and last night a marquee of ten was added. The convoys come in every night. So there is no lack of excitement. In fact, there is never a dull moment and nevertheless and not withstanding we are having the time of our lives, and I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.

I think I must go to bed now, and since I have been writing the sun has come out and it has got quite mild and lovely, so the bad weather may be over. I will try to write you the rest of what I have to say soon, but I think most likely it will be in the same form as this one. Keep on writing and address them as I have headed this. I got a stack of letters the day we arrived here, four from Rene, one from Marie, one from Minnie and the rest from different people. I wonder if Rene went up to the Soo. It will probably be after Xmas when you get this so I’ll send you my best love and wishes for the New Year.

Yours
Ruby

Puttees and chilblains

 

The censor has approved Ruby’s letter in upper left corner

Ruby is probably now in Salonika, Greece – the censor won’t allow her to tell her sister precisely where she is.

An Arctic chill along with constant mist has descended. Improvising warm clothing while not appearing to be immodest becomes a bit of an obsession, and not just a challenge. It was here that the seeds were planted for the pleurisy, pneumonia, and finally tuberculosis that felled her in 1918. In that year Ruby was invalided back home to recover in a sanatorium.

Ruby sends greetings to her sisters-in-law Florence Johnstone Peterkin and Minnie Slater Peterkin.

No. 4 Canadian General Hosp
British Forces in Greece
[Nov. 27, 1915]

Dear Rene —
I received your letter of Nov. 9 – yesterday and it is so funny to hear every one say they are glad we are settled in Alexandria when we have never been near that place. The officers and men were there for some days on their way here but unfortunately we were not with them. We spent that time in Malta instead at that beautiful spot St. George’s.

So you are not going to the Soo after all. It is too bad in a good many ways, but as you say it wouldn’t be much fun alone. Weren’t they pigs not to take Mildred too. But why didn’t you and Theresa go?

Dear me, I have so much I want to say I don’t know where to start. I got your letter about not going to the Soo a few days ago. Did you get my Round Robin? I told Hugh to send it right on to you. And now you want me to describe the climate and natives! Well, to begin with the climate. We came right from Malta where the sun glared on the white stone all day and we nearly scorched in the middle of the day – everyone wearing sun helmets and goggles – to Arctic weather here. I might repeat, incidentally that we had a very rough passage getting here. Well, I have come thro as well as anyone but it kind of put us all on the brink. It wasn’t so fearfully cold the day we arrived. I went on night duty the second night after we arrived and that was when it began to get cold. I have told you all about that in my Round Robin. It isn’t nearly as cold now and I have discarded layer after layer of clothing till all the extras I am wearing are two sweater coats under my rain coat. And I am wearing puttees – the regular soldiers’ ones you know that you wind around and around. You see, I objected to showing the whole of my socks to the wide world and these are the grandest things and the warmest. I expect I shall wear them all the rest of my natural life. I am so glad we were particular about getting our skirts to hang evenly when they were made, for if not, they would never have been even now when we hike a foot and a half of them up under our belts. As it is there isn’t more than six inches difference between the back and front at the bottom. However, the mud is not so bad just at present and I can wear boots and rubbers. The rubber boots were giving me chilblains. We have not seen the sun for about five days. There is a constant mist descending that is not rain, but so near it you can hardly tell the difference.
So much for the weather and I herewith append a sketch of yours truly ready to start on duty. I told you I had cut off my rain coat above my boot tops. I don’t know whether I told you we had been presented with men’s overcoats from the Red Cross supplies, because our great coats were getting worn out. They are shorter even than the rain coat. Personally I don’t put mine on till after midnight and change back to my rain coat at day light.

Now as we are not allowed out of the camp at anytime, the only natives we see are a flock of goats quartered out behind the camp with a lone shepherd or two and a few mules that pass on the road with their drivers. Then we have a squad of about fifty Greeks working round the hospital, as garbage men &c. They wear the most non descript garments imaginable, some have goat-skins draped around them and nearly all have high boots and baggy trousers. When we want to go for a walk for a mile or two we get up an escort from among the officers. Col. Chambers is the M.O. for sick sisters, so when he prescribes a walk for any of them he has to detail one or more officers to accompany them.

I think I had better get this finished up or I’ll never get it away, for I am now writing at 3 a.m. several days later. It is impossible almost to write letters here. I am not quite so busy to-night, but this is the first night I have had any time to write. I think you will have to share this with Minnie for I don’t believe I can write her just yet. It isn’t that I forget to write to you all, but I simply haven’t the energy when I get off duty in the morning to do any thing but tumble in to bed. There is so much walking to do between the wards.

We expect to be off night duty in another week and are wondering if they will take us off for Xmas or not. I got a little box from Mossie the other day with some handkerchiefs and chocolate. The girls are getting their boxes all right and I wish I had let you send me some things but it is too late now for the present and with things as they are in this peaceful time one never knows when we may be moving at short notice. I’ll let you know tho’ whenever I think it will be safe to send anything for I want heaps of things. We cannot buy a single, solitary thing except thro’ the quarter master who goes to town every day. What wouldn’t we give for a day on Yonge St.?

I must close this or I’ll never get it away. I got a letter from Florie last night and was very glad to hear from them. Give them all my love, but I don’t know when I’ll ever get time to write. However tell every one to keep on writing to me and they will be doing that much for their country. Love to Minnie and Ern and yourself. Don’t work too hard. Did I tell you I think your blue dress is sweet!

Yours
Ruby

Near the firing line at Gallipoli

It is a week later and nursing sister Ruby Peterkin is finally “there”, which is Malta. But it hasn’t been all quiet and uneventful on the SS “Kildonan Castle”. At Gallipoli they sail right up to the firing line, with shells bursting nearby. Then orders are received to carry on to Salonika and almost immediately to return to Malta. No one knows what happens next …

Ruby is still on her way to her final destination in Greece

Union-Castle Line
R.M.S. “Kildonan Castle”
Nov. 5 – 1915

Dear Rene –
We are still on board and are now in the harbour at Malta. We have just been taking a little Mediterranean cruise and taking in the places we did not visit when you and I were over here last. The patients are to be unloaded this a.m. for of course, you understand, we have been working our passage. When I wrote you last we thought our destination was to be Lemnos but not so. We went right from London to Lemnos. There the boat was ordered to the Gulf of Suvla Galipoli, to take on a load of wounded and so no one knew what to do with us and had heard nothing of NO. 4. We went with the ship, the nursing staff for this boat having failed to make connections. We were right up at the firing line at Galipoli all right, anchored ½ mile from shore and saw the shells bursting on land and in the water. We got out board – about seven hundred and went back to Lemnos, got orders to go to Salonika and proceeded thither. They knew nothing more about us there, but they said twelve of us were to stay on the ship to take the patients to Malta and the others of us were transported to another hospital ship the Karapara in the harbor. The whole sixty-three of us slept in a big ward and in the a.m. we got orders to go back to our own ship. So we all were conveyed back in the lighter and very glad were the twelve, who had been left on board, to see us.

Then we set out for Malta and arrived here yesterday. They are going to begin to unload now and no one knows what is going to become of us. They cabled London last night and are waiting a reply. We have not heard of our officers and men who are supposed to have come out in a troop ship. No doubt they are as much in the dark as to our whereabouts.
Don’t be surprised if you don’t hear very often. I’ll write when I can. Let Minnie and Ern know the news as I have not time to write them just now.

Ruby

On the “Kildonan Castle” to Malta, and beyond

Ruby Peterkin writes to her sister: “We are nearly there now, wherever ‘there’ may be”. Apparently “there” was to be Malta for the envelope is postmarked Malta, 6 Nov. 1915. Ruby isn’t quite sure whether she is on a hospital ship. However, the “SS Kildonan Castle” had been commissioned on the 6th of October as a British military hospital ship. She carried 16 nurses and sisters, 11 British officers, and 603 beds.

Sarah Agnes Campbell, who had difficulty sleeping on the ship, was 7 years older than Ruby. Agnes was born in Sydenham, Ont., and when she enlisted was living at 609 Avenue Road in Toronto.

Ruby learns that her brother Ernest Peterkin is moving to 161 Inglewood Drive in Moore Park. Ruby has a particular interest because her future husband Hugh Alexander McKay has been living during the war with Ernest and his wife Minnie. It is not possible here to unravel the back home domestic details and people in Toronto mentioned by Ruby.

Union-Castle Line
R.M.S. “Kildonan Castle”
October 27th [1915]

Dear Rene —
We are nearly there now, wherever “there” may be. We expect to land some time tomorrow and we know just as much about where we are going to be as we did when leaving.

It has been a wonderfully fine voyage. There was one day, when passing the Bay of Biscay, over which it is wise draw the veil. I had my three or rather four meals but it was not a comfortable day for any one. The first couple of days were cool, then it began to get warmer and all through the Mediterranean we have been discarding first one then another article of clothing. We had to keep out 100 miles from the coast of Spain so we did not pass Gibraltar till Saturday pm. As is usual, I believe, it was wrapped in fog, but we saw the rock fairly well, although we kept nearer to the African side of the Strait, and the mean things wouldn’t even slow down in passing to let us get a good look. We passed Sicily yesterday, and saw the trees vineyards and little white houses quite distinctly thro the glasses. We didn’t get a glimpse of Malta at all, much to everyone’s disappointment, for we all intended getting some leave there while the boat was coaling. Unfortunately, I fear the boat brought enough coal to last until our destination is reached.

The nursing sisters on the “SS Kildonan Castle”

We have been quite comfortable on the boat, except that our stateroom is right over the engine and Agnes Campbell cant sleep there at all so she goes away up some where in the bow and sleeps in an empty inside room. I couldn’t sleep in ours either if I stayed awake to listen to the engine, but as usual I am dead to the world as soon as I hit the hay.
The table is very good, except that if you want ginger ale you have to skip two courses because the steward disappears to get the ginger ale and is not seen again till every one else is at dessert. The dining-room is in what was the smoking lounge for they have the real dining saloon fixed up for a ward.

Our officers are not on board they are supposed to have gone on ahead, to get the arch of Maple Leaves ready to welcome us, the major here says. There are about ten R.A.M.C. officers on board, whose destination is supposed to be the same as ours, which we expect is to be Lemnos, after all.

I got your letter of Sept. 29th after I got on the boat also the announcement of Kathleen Wilder’s marriage to Hilly Norris. I don’t remember telling you that I got the announcement of Mary’s marriage, when I was in London. You must be sure and call on her. I wonder if she is going to have a reception or not. She is at home after Dec. 1st. I am going to write to her.

How is the dress coming on? If I were you I would get enough clothes now to see you thro the winter, so you will have enough to wear anywhere you want to go, and won’t have to worry about them. If you need it, you can get another cheap, you know, for whatever you want. Give my greetings to the sorority at the next meeting. I wonder if there will be many dances in Toronto this winter. I should think most of the men would be missing.
When does Ern expect to get into the new house. I heard the name of the street is changed again to Inglewood Drive. He is going on with it is he not?

If possible I shall add hereto for I don’t know when we will be able to post letters. I am sure I told you that matron-in-chief MacDonald’s address was changed to Cecil Chambers, 86 Strand, London.

Friday, Oct. 29th
We are still on board and have taken a little jaunt up to bring down wounded soldiers. I am going on night duty tonight. I told you before I think that this is a hospital ship.

They are taking up the letters now.

R.