All was well. Nursing is a great profession and live in accommodation meant little to organize and few problems if you obeyed the rules. Even in the hospitals things like cups were provided for general use, but not so at Concord Hospital. At Concord each cup was owned by an individual person and I angered a couple of the girls for borrowing theirs (even though I always washed, dried, and put them back where I got them from). One of those girls was Flora – she rudely informed me that everyone had their own cup, so I just purchased my own to add to the already massive assembled lot and shrug her off.

I did not see much of Heather, occasionally we would go out together but my contact with her was limited as we were on different shifts, different floors, different wards. She was medical, I was surgical, so I made other friends. I became good friends with Pat Kriedeman although she was also friends with Flora who I still did not get on with and just ignored. After about six months working at Concord it was time for me to move on. Pat and Flora continued to work there, and Pat and I stayed in touch and remained close friends for many years.

I went to Melbourne with a girl who lived down there but it was too cold and so we went north to a place called Swan Hill. It was a very small but lively town close to the Victorian - New South Wales border. There was something to do every night, parties, dances, balls, card nights, football etc.

I was also enjoying working at the Swan Hill District Hospital. It was busy at times but most of our patients were in for a routine, non-urgent, medical surgical and recovery. Little pressure as the most serious accident patients were transferred to Melbourne Hospital for major surgery.

I met up with a 35-year-old man. We did not discuss past histories just accepting that we liked each other’s company for social occasion when partners were necessary. One ball, a few dances, a country thing - both of us using the other person as a convenience to attend the event of that night. Nothing serious just enjoyable, light-hearted companionship. Then one night without warning he just told me that he was married and getting a divorce. What an unwelcome piece of news... I had unknowingly broken my own rule to never go out with a married man and I told him that I would not be attending social events with him again. Neither of us were emotionally involved but I wondered why no one had told me that he was married. Did they think that I knew, that I wouldn’t care? I thought they must have a poor opinion of me and didn’t know how I should react. I handed in my resignation, worked out my two weeks and left for Adelaide.

I applied to the Repatriation General Hospital at Daw Park, “The Repat” as it was known. I had with me a reference from a doctor at Concord Hospital which held me in good stead - it was also going to prove a very worthy piece of paper for Perth in the future. I loved Adelaide - it was a delightful place and I enjoyed my time there. I did meet up with the gentleman from Swan Hill again whilst I was there the situation had soured can we say and leave it at that. I never saw or heard from him again. With no regrets he was vanished.

I would book myself into hotels, sometimes alone, sometimes with a group of other nurses. We would catch a bus to the beach which was about an hour away then return to the hotel for whatever evening show was on. Still no hanky-panky. Just a wonderful day and night out swimming, dancing, partying with like-minded people. It was great fun and my kind of scene!

The last time I booked myself into the hotel was by myself. I retired early to read in my room when maybe about nine or ten o’clock at night there was a knock at my door. I was still in my day clothes and just opened the door to find the singer Gordon Boyd outside my door. I recognised him immediately as I had been to one of his live shows and he was frequently on TV.

He said, “Good evening, I’m very sorry to disturb you but do you think that you could be kind enough to rub this cream on for me?” He held up a tube of what looked like Voltaren cream that he wanted me to rub onto his back, shoulder and arm which were apparently very painful. I went straight into nursing mode and said certainly closing my door and following him to his room.

I was stunned that his room was next door to mine and that was what I was thinking about as he took off his shirt and laid on the bed. I rubbed the cream into his sore back, shoulder and arm as asked, said that I hoped he felt better and left back to my room. I locked my door and went to bed thinking about my momentary brush with fame. What a dill brain I was.

When a couple of other nurses joined me the next morning, I was telling them about the episode. We were laughing and I looked up to find him walking along the beach about 10 to 12 feet in front of us with his middle age pot belly sticking out. After the laughter ended their advice to me was “Seriously, don’t go to hotels by yourself, you could get into trouble”. Advice heeded but of course there is every possibility that I did him a disservice blackening his good name. He did not try to violate my person.

I am not sure why he was at the hotel – to my knowledge he was not doing any shows there otherwise there would have been posters up at the hotel and ads on the radio. I always carried my little trans radio with me and only turned it off at night or when the battery died. It was most important when we went to the beach.

Adelaide was known as the culture city of Australia and I was there for about six months. I spent a lot of time at the beach then watching concerts in parks, singers at clubs or male revue cabaret shows such as “Les Girls”, with dinners before and after then frequently dancing until close time (if we were not on duty in the morning). There were always invitations to these various outings posted on the noticeboard. You just needed to sign your name and a detailed explanation note would pop up on your door. Beaches and shows were the most popular and included an overnight stay in a cheap hotel. Sometimes it was just two or three people going but other times there were many more.

On one such occasion a large group of us nurses attended a show/dance at our regular hotel on the beach. Some had partners but the rest of us were just dancing with each other when a man in his mid-thirties came up and asked me if I would dance with him. We danced a few dances together and at the end of the night he drove me and another girl back to the hospital. He had a yellow Lamborghini – he told me there were only two in Australia! I was impressed, it was a beautiful car.

He said he would be in touch and indeed he rang a couple of days later to ask if I would like to go out to dinner with him that evening. The Lamborghini arrived to pick me up. Wow, I was so impressed! Such a brightly coloured, beautifully designed car! It was a fun night with lots of dancing. He told me that I was a great dancer and that he had a company for girl dancers – was I interested in becoming one? I said that whilst I enjoyed dancing, I also enjoyed my job and that I didn’t think that I’d be swapping careers.

He told me the pay would be better than what I was accustomed to and asked me to think about it then he lifted my foot up and started kissing it. It totally floored me – I was out of there pronto! I had never heard of a foot fetish before, but I was expanding my education every day. Later on, I figured that he was probably offering me a job as a pole dancer.

Adelaide was definitely the cultural centre of Australia! I thoroughly enjoyed my stay there and always promised another visit, but it never eventuated other than to pass through by train.

So, Perth here I come. I applied at Repatriation General Hospital, Hollywood in the Perth suburb of Nedlands and with my referral was accepted. The live-in accommodation was wonderful, but I was put into the surgical ward and found it intense.

The returning soldiers from Vietnam were pitiful and frequently in a lot of pain. With the drugs and chemical already in their systems it was difficult to relieve their pain effectively and which had a big impact on their comfort and recovery. Perth was the first port of call for most of them, before being sent to their home state after assessment and stabilisation. Most of them were very young, the song “Only 19” was on the top of the hit parade and sadly I saw it played out in front of me every day. Once off duty they and their problems had to be forgotten, otherwise their anguish would become yours, making you useless.

The boys were picked for service by conscription in alphabetical order. If they tried to avoid their service or failed to turn up, then police would escort them under arrest, or they would end up in court and in jail. There were protests Australia wide and eventually the people won their desire. No more conscription, the war was over however those who returned were often traumatised for life.

I met many war veterans in my later years and they still had the mental scars from this era as well as those from the first and second world wars. Wars continue to go on perpetuated by the greedy and power hungry in my humble opinion.

I got to become friendly with two girls Joan and Margo and we went out together to various venues, the usual parties that were put on by outside flatting members of staff. They were talking about their desire to live away from the hospital and invited me to be the third in a house - no nurse could afford such luxuries by herself. I thought about it, the live-in accommodation was great, but this would be a brand-new experience. Yes, I would be in, thank you! We found a house already furnished and we moved in.

I had a big bedroom all to myself, so I was stoked. Just down the road was a catholic private hospital run by nuns from the order of Saint Joseph‘s. We discussed the merit of trying to get a job there with the deciding factor the close location. It now took at least 20 minutes by bus to get to work at Repatriation Hospital and Sunday’s were even more problematic with buses only coming every two to three hours. We went for interviews and were accepted with a fortnight start so handed in our resignations at RGH.

There was a great coffee venue three blocks down the road and that became our new entertainment venue. Singers, poets, music, small dance floors were the latest fashion and opening everywhere, normally run by university students. Young people getting their chance to display their craft in front of an audience whilst learning. Of course, alcohol also available!

We settled into both the house and the coffee shop which we visited fairly regularly. Margo met a young Englishman in his mid to late twenties known as Pog, although I can’t recall why he was called that. They took to each other’s’ fancies and quickly became an item. They often went out by themselves to movies before returning home or turning up at the coffee shop later in the evening. So, Joan and I would go down the road together to join in the fun whenever there was nothing else on.

One night, Joan and I met two guys from South Africa, Claude and Peiter. They had only arrived in Perth a short time prior with a South African football team to play a “friendly” match against a team from Perth. The team went back to South Africa but Peiter and Claude had decided to stay to see more of Western Australia and so our meeting. We were holding a party the following week and invited them along, Peiter I considered a pretty boy and Claude a rough diamond in his country clothing. I never saw Claude dressed up in anything else.

We clicked and started to spent time together. They hired a car and would invite us on drives up and down the Western Australian coastline. We went south to the amazing Margaret River area on a couple of occasions but also north as far as Carnarvon stopping off at the points of interest on the way. Sometimes Margot and Pog would come along as well with Pog driving them in his car.

When we were not going away, it was party time and we were frequently overwhelmed by the response, mainly other nurses and their partners but also other people we hadn’t invited turning up. After a party there were often a lot of people who would crash on the lounge room floor. In the morning they would help with the clean-up then either have leftovers for breakfast or head to the coffee shop before heading home when the buses were running again. Not many young nurses had a car, so we relied on buses a lot.

Pog and Marco were serious item, always together whenever they were off duty. What he did for work I don’t remember but I do recall one night when he was not with Margo, he was driving whilst drunk and had an accident with another car killing the other driver. He was charged by police for being drunk and with his case due for court three to six months later was release with a warning to remain in the state. If found in violation he would be jailed immediately. This was standard practice at the time, there was no law around alcohol limits.

Everyone knew about the situation and Pog was a changed man, morose at times - depression has set in. Margo naturally was also very upset and worried, but she had an additional burden. She had recently found out that she was pregnant but not wanting to add to Pog’s problems had yet to tell him or anyone except Joan and I. So, the parties dribble to a stop, we were all awaiting the outcome of the court case. Luckily Pog’s case came up fairly quickly. He was found guilty and was given a fine (I don’t know how much) but no jail time. He and Margo decided to get married in the following year.

In the interim Margo wanted to go home. Her parents were prepared to help support her and help with the wedding. Joan and I were invited but, in the end, neither of us attended. At the same time Claude got a message from South Africa telling him that there was trouble on the family farm, and he was needed back. Now those happy days were coming to an end.

Claude, Peiter, Joan and I had a conversation as to why don’t we follow them over to see some of South Africa. We would need to pay for accommodation and expenses and thought we could get a job there, but we did not know how long it would take us to get one. Fun was expensive and I had spent all that I earned with no savings for a rainy day so I couldn’t afford to go, and neither could Joan. We said would come the following year after we had saved up the money!

It was a sad day when they departed, we had farewell drinks down at the coffee shop and said our goodbyes. Then they were gone. Claude and Pieter to South Africa, Margo and Pog to Melbourne and Joan to Auckland. With everyone going I made the spontaneous decision to head back to NZ with Joan and catch up with Barbara and my other friends in Napier. So said goodbye to Australia as well!