Dr Julie Doherty had been working ‘full tilt’ at the field base hospital on the Front since the beginning of June 1918. Apart from saving her brother Jack’s life she had saved many more young Doughboy’s’ lives. She had been horrified at the injuries she encountered, particularly the facial injuries. These young men would return home only to find civilians looking away in horror, or crossing quickly to the other side of the street.
She decided that when the end of the war finally came, she would move to Britain and accept the offer to study plastic surgery under Dr Harold Gillies at the Queen’s Hospital in Sidcup, Kent. Dr Gillies was pleased to have Julie as an assistant and together they performed some eleven thousand operations at the Queen’s Hospital between 1917 and 1925.
Julie enjoyed her time at the Queen’s Hospital under the guidance of Dr Gillies. She also enjoyed living in Kent which was often described as the garden of England. Julie also enjoyed visiting France when she had time off she took the ferry from Dover to Calais. Although her time in France was horrendous during the war she appreciated the beauty of the country when on leave. Paris was her favourite city in the world.
Julie discovered golf while living in England. She joined the Royal Blackheath Golf Club and began having Julie discovered golf while living in England; she joined the Royal Blackheath Golf Club and began having lessons. After a year of playing most weekends she had reduced her handicap to eighteen. The other lady golfers were most impressed and invited her to play pennants for the club.
In the spring of 1922 she played in a mixed foursome competing against a couple from the Grove Golf Club visiting from Hertfordshire. Her partner was the club captain, Anthony Pittard – he played off ten and Julie was now down to fifteen.
Their opponents were Dr Harry de Neville and Sandra Scott. Harry was a very handsome, athletic-looking man who had also been a medico in the war and, as it turned out, he shared her interest in plastic surgery. Sandra had been a nurse in France and had worked with Harry.
The round went Julie’s and Tony’s way; they won two up with one to play.
‘Well everybody, bloody good game! ’Let’s retire to the club house for a stiff drink,’ suggested Tony.
‘Sounds good to me.’ Harry agreed. ‘I hope you ladies will join us.’
‘Yes, of course. I think we both need it,’ said Julie.
Away from the competitive environment of the golf course the four loosened up and were chatting away.
‘Julie, are you in General Practice?’ asked Harry.
‘No, I’m working with Dr Harold Gillies at the Queen’s Hospital. You may have heard of him?’
‘Heard of him! My God! He is the father of plastic surgery. That is also my speciality although you wouldn’t mention my name in the same sentence as his’.
‘I have been working under his guidance now for three and a half years. He has taught me so much.’
‘That really is impressive Julie. Well done.’
‘I think I was just fortunate that Dr Gillies took me under his wing.’
The day ended and all went their separate ways. The losing team headed back up to Hertfordshire and Julie and Tony headed home.