What Philip did at the Guinea Pig Club
For the injured wartime airmen of this ‘exclusive’ society, the Duke of Edinburgh was always one of the boys, says Joe Shute
There have only ever been two presidents of the Guinea Pig Club, and Bob Marchant has been privileged enough to meet them both. The first was in the 1950s when, after leaving the RAF, he took up a position at the Queen Victoria Hospital in East Grinstead where Sir Archibald Mcindoe was treating pilots who had suffered life-changing injuries in the war.
Mcindoe, a New Zealander who had moved to Britain before the war, had fast gained a reputation for working miracles among his patients. He called those under his care members of the Guinea Pig Club, because of his cheerful admission that he was pioneering new plastic surgery techniques on them.
After Mcindoe’s death in 1960, the Duke of Edinburgh was appointed the club’s president, a position he held with pride until his retirement from public duties in 2017.
As the club’s honorary secretary, Marchant hosted the Duke at dinners and events, including in November 2016 when he unveiled a monument at the National Memorial Arboretum in Staffordshire to the 649 original club members. Seven are alive today.
Marchant, 86, says there were similarities between the Duke and Mcindoe. Neither suffered fools gladly, both insisted on punctuality and above all, they shared a deep affection for the members of the club.
At anniversary dinners at the Felbridge Hotel near East Grinstead, the Duke was always the star turn. “He was very relaxed and sociable, and enjoyed talking to as many people as possible,” Marchant says. “It was a real honour for everyone in the Guinea Pig Club – they always thought he was one of the boys.”
One of the last surviving members is Sam Gallop, 98, who lives in Dulwich, south London. A Spitfire pilot in the war, Gallop crash-landed in 1944 and was found by colleagues in the US air force lying unconscious next to the wreckage of his aircraft.
He came under Mcindoe’s care, having suffered third degree burns, broken bones and needing both legs amputated, and endured in the region of 17 operations. Gallop describes the Duke as “caring, considerate, thoughtful and always taking a keen interest in our problems”. Whenever he delivered a speech to the veterans, he says, “it always gave us a laugh and a lift”.
Mcindoe, too, realised that instilling joy in his patients was a vital aspect of medicine. At the outbreak of war, the Government had decided to expand the Queen Victoria Hospital to cater for military burn victims. Mcindoe, who had trained under the First World War plastic surgeon
Sir Harold Gillies, was put in charge. He devised a philosophy entirely of his own making, based as much on mental as physical rehabilitation, and teaching patients to have no shame in their injuries.
On the ward, he installed a barrel of beer and recruited the prettiest nurses. He allowed the men to wear their uniforms while convalescing and insisted they face the world, regularly sending them swaddled in bandages to the pub, local cinema or music hall. Due to his efforts in creating a band of brothers who could help one another overcome their injuries, East Grinstead became known as “the town that did not stare”.
By the time Bob Marchant joined the hospital as an operating theatre technician in 1956, Mcindoe had been knighted for his work. Marchant became involved with fundraising and was appointed an honorary member in the Seventies, presented with a club tie and its famous badge: a gold pin of a guinea pig sprouting RAF wings.
Mcindoe’s aftercare, says Marchant, was as vital as any surgical procedure.
‘He always took a keen interest in our problems ... it gave us a laugh and a lift’
He worked closely with the men to ensure they would thrive and move on from their injuries. He referred to his patients as “his boys” and they in turn called him “the boss”.
“He didn’t just treat their injuries, he treated the whole body,” Marchant recalls. “He said none of his patients would stand on street corners selling matches. He made sure they all had good jobs and proper pensions.”
As one member, Sandy Saunders, who died in 2017 aged 94, said: “The Guinea Pig Club is the most exclusive club in the world, because you have to be nearly burnt to death to join it.”
After the Duke’s decision to retire, the surviving members agreed they would not appoint another president. Yet another member of the Royal family has kept the spirit of the club alive among a new generation of wounded veterans. Last year, to mark the 75th anniversary of VE Day commemorations, the Duke of Sussex spoke to several relatives of members, including Saunders’s widow, Maggie, and paid tribute to the “incredible and uplifting stories” of the club.
A modern spin-off, entitled the Casevac club, principally made up of wounded Iraq and Afghanistan veterans (and named after the military acronym for “casualty evacuation”), has also received the backing of the Duke and seed funding from the Royal Foundation in 2019.
One member is Michael Goody. The 36-year-old, who lives in Dorset, was a senior aircraftman on patrol with 1 Squadron RAF Regiment in Afghanistan in 2008, when he lost his left leg to an IED blast. He has since competed in the Duke’s Invictus Games and met him several times.
“It’s a community of veterans who are all in the same boat,” he says of the club. “I’ve had many therapists over the years and the quickest way for me to switch off is when they say ‘I know what you’re going through’.”
While the Duke has no formal connection to the club, Goody says he has been instrumental in helping wounded servicemen and women overcome their injuries: “Something bad has happened to us but we are all on that road to recovery. He has helped in a tremendous way. You can always have a laugh with him.”
This week, the Duke’s tribute to his grandfather as the “legend of banter” raised some eyebrows, but both knew the importance of camaraderie to help veterans overcome their experiences.
The jokes may not always be to everybody’s taste. But, as the inscription on the memorial stone to the Guinea Pig Club reads: “out of the flames came inspiration”.
The RAF Benevolent Fund has stood side by side with the Guinea Pig Club for the past 80 years and supported many of its members. To find out how they help the RAF Family visit rafbf.org