Malta’s international reputation as a centre for nursing excellence was confirmed at least twice over the ages.
Throughout two centuries, the Order of St John’s Sacra Infermeria, in Valletta maintained unparalleled fame in Europe for its state-of-the-art medical services.
World War I, when Malta took centre stage as ‘the nurse of the Mediterranean’, repeated those peaks. Tens of thousands of Allied Entente servicemen, many ANZACs from Australia and New Zealand, had been wounded during the disastrous Gallipoli campaign of 1915 and were transferred to Malta for treatment and convalescence.
Hospitals, some improvised, went into overdrive all over the island: the Central Hospital, Mtarfa, Mdina, St Julian’s, Cottonera, Bighi, Tigné, Zammit Clapp, Għajn Tuffieħa and St Elmo.
"The nursing profession can be as demanding as it is unrewarding"
Military patients wore a truncated red tie and, in winter, a jacket with white lapels.
Hundreds of nurses, mostly foreign, had to be recruited wherever they could be found. Overall, they acquired an untarnished, if often unsung, reputation for outstanding humanity, dedication and professional competence.
The nursing profession can be as demanding as it is unrewarding. ‘One year a nurse and 10 years the worse’ a wise old English proverb teaches.
The prototype and most iconic of nurses, Florence Nightingale, had already been in Malta in 1849 and, again, in 1854, with a group of women trained by her.
Photographic evidence of World War I military nursing in Malta proves abundant; that of amputees may be disturbing.
Professional lay nurses were supplemented by volunteers from religious orders. I am including some images of the good Blue Sisters, committed to relieving the sufferings of those in pain and, in 1980, despicably arrested and kicked out of Malta under armed police escort like the hardened delinquents they undoubtedly were.
All images from the author's collection.