Dr NORA – heroine of Aldeburgh

“SNOOKS” who accompanied Dr Robin & Dr Nora on their house visits.

If you mention Dr Nora to anyone over the age of 50 in Aldeburgh and surrounding towns, you will probably get the response “She delivered me”. Indeed she did deliver many babies for many years and she also delivered both my brother and myself. She was famous for working in the community for all her life and “retirement” was not in her vocabulary.

I remember her as a diminutive lady, grey hair plaited and wound around her head, as a child she always appeared old to me. I always thought she was a little ferocious especially when I tried to avoid the regular tetanus injections both my brother and I had to endure as children living on a farm in the 1960's. Upon reflection I now understand why she wasn't tolerant of cowardice! However, there is so much more to tell. I was speaking to an elderly lady a few months ago who informed me that during WW2 Dr Nora accompanied the lifeboat crew in Aldeburgh to help those who been injured. My father, agreed but until I found a newspaper article – printed in Australian newspaper I didn't realise quite how fearless and brave she actually was.

Before I lead you to the story of Dr. Nora Acheson's war time work I will provide a little background information. Nora Cheney was born in Fotheringhay, Northampton in 1901, daughter of farmer John Cheney and his wife, Gertrude. She qualified as a doctor in London in 1924 and married Patrick M Acheson later that year in the Camberwell district, London. We know Partick as Dr Robin. After being in practice in Acton, London they both moved to Aldeburgh in 1931 where they served the patients for the remainder of their lives.

Just the service to the local townspeople in itself is of such great merit, but what I can relate with thanks to the Australian National Library for their digitised newspapers is just remarkable.

December 1940, “Small slender Dr Nora Acheson of Aldeburgh, Suffolk in oilskins and sou’wester went out with the local lifeboat when it was reported that some of the crew of the 2500 ton steamer Geraldus had been seen clinging to wreckage. Usually her husband goes out on the boat, but he was on a case. It is the first time that a woman has gone out on a British lifeboat on a service call. After five hours of being buffeted by driving rain and wind she stepped ashore laughing “Oh well, it's all in a days work. Sick! No thanks, I loved it” The Geraldus was mined. All 26 of the crew were picked up by a warship”

February 1945 “There is one doctor who does not believe in the Weaker Sex Theory” That is Dr Nora Acheson of Aldeburgh, Suffolkshire (sic), who during this war has:

Ploughed through mine-infested waters with lifeboatmen seeking fallen Aircraft.

Tended in darkness at sea injured men from torpedoed ships (now she is annoyed because the Royal National Lifeboat Institute has banned such trips).

Dressed the wounds of all 60 survivors from the first merchant navy ship torpedoed in the English waters.

When there was a minefield explosion, crawled with the aid of a ladder across the minefield to the crater in the centre, where she bandaged the injured soldiers and injected morphia. She refused to permit soldiers who had escaped to collect the remains of the killed, exclaiming “You can't do that, they were your friends”, and collected the remains herself.

When bombs wrecked a hospital (Aldeburgh Hospital, originally located in the High Street) and killed 14 children, she attended all casualties, supervised the transfer of patients, and supervised the opening of a new hospital. She told her husband, who is in the Royal Medical Corps. “No, I don't want a medal, but I would like one of those battle dresses”

It is interesting to note, that whilst Dr Nora may have been banned from attending the sick on the Lifeboat, this didn't stop her as I have read of her setting off in a motor boat to help a pilot who had baled out 3 miles south of Orfordness in heavy seas. Quite a journey from Aldeburgh!

I can only wonder with amazement that this little Lady doctor, who used to call and see our family when sick, drink tea in our kitchen, was such an incredible person. How privileged I feel.