Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Sister
New Zealand Nursing Service

Next of kin Mrs. C POPPLEWELL of 505 Main Street, Ballarat, Vic.

A COURAGEOUS NURSE
HEROISM SHOWN IN WATER

Sister Edith Popplewell, who has been awarded the First Class Medal of the Royal Red Cross Society, is the
daughter of Mrs C. Popplewell, of Lyons street, North Ballarat.

She was born at Kaikora (N.Z.),but, when a child, settled in Ballarat with her mother, and was educated there.
She, however, was in New Zealand when the War broke out, and enlisted in the New Zealand nursing service. Before becoming, a sister at the Otaki Hospital, she served as a probationer trainee, and sister at the Ballarat Hospital, and was later at the Women's Hospital, Melbourne.

As a war nurse Sister Popplewell has had distinguished service. She was aboard the troopship Marquette when it was torpedoed on the way to Salonica, and she and others were in the sea until picked up by a British submarine nine hours later.

During, the greater part of that period Sister Popplewell supported another nurse, who died of exhaustion in her arms. For this act of gallantry, Sister Popplewell was mentioned in despatches, and the Royal Red Cross award is a further recognition of her bravery on that occasion.

Sister Popplewell is attached to a military hospital in London. Prior to that appointment she served for six months on the hospital ship Braemar Castle, which was torpedoed, on the voyage that immediately followed Sister Popplewell's last trip therein.

Sister Popplewell's brother. Cecil was killed on Gallipoli on May 19, 1915.

Weekly Times Saturday 29 December 1917 page 10

Married SCOTT

Trained at Ballarat and DDC

Ballarat & District in the Great War

Sister Edith Catherine "Poppy" Popplewell
 
Childhood is a precious time. Those experiences and memories, when our minds are at their most receptive, can colour the rest of a life. Often circumstances force changes to what would have otherwise been the usual path, the socially expected path. For Poppy Popplewell, that shift occurred when she was still just a little girl and it changed her life in ways no one could have predicted.

Born on 13 October 1884 at Ōtᾱne in the Hawke’s Bay region of the North Island of New Zealand, Edith Catherina Popplewell was the second daughter of Frederick Joseph Popplewell and Catherine (Catheinea) Jane Preston. She was to become universally known as Poppy.
Her parents had married at St Peter’s Eastern Hill, the Anglican parish church of the City of Melbourne, on 5 January 1880. Catherine, who was born in Liverpool, was living in Ballarat, where her father was a partner in the well-known firm of Kelly and Preston, agricultural implement makers. Both her parent’s were natives of the Isle of Man.

The Popplewell family had its origins in Yorkshire, with links to Bradford and Guiseley. Frederick was born at Bulla Bulla, where his father was head teacher at the National School.

Both Frederick and his brother, Benjamin Popplewell, also became teachers. Benjamin quickly established a fine reputation as an educator and was Head Teacher at the Egerton and Buninyong State Schools.

Frederick, however, was embroiled in an incident whilst teaching at Egerton, that saw him dismissed from his position in November 1876. He was charged with having seduced a female pupil teacher, with the evidence deemed ‘of a most revolting nature, and for the greater part unfit for publication.’ It was decided that he was ‘an unfit person to be any longer a teacher in the State Schools.’ Seemingly, his only option was to move to New Zealand, where there was little chance of the scandal following him. When he married Catherine Preston, Frederick was teaching at the Winton Public School outside Invercargill.

Five children – two boys and three girls – were born in quick succession over the ensuing nine years; all, except the eldest, Jack, were born in the Hawke’s Bay area, where Frederick Popplewell continued to work as a school teacher.

In May 1885, whilst Frederick Popplewell was a master at the Kaikora School, he was charged with the assault of a ‘lad’, Hector Owen Dillon. It was alleged that he unlawfully beat the boy, who was just over 10 years old. The local doctor was brought in to give evidence, as was another student, the boy concerned and the boy’s father. Although the case was eventually dismissed, it had been asserted by the prosecution that there had been many complaints of this nature and the father of the boy felt it necessary to pursue the matter.

It needs to be added that Frederick Popplewell had been very popular when he taught at the Winton School. When he left the school, his students voluntarily collected a subscription, raising £5.

‘…The teacher feelingly, and at some length, responded, reviewing the progress of the school, and spoke approvingly of the scholars as a whole. While he spoke tears were seen to flow from many eyes, and the parting was very touching, and clearly showed the great affection of the children for their late master…’

Poppy began her education at the Dannevirke School, where her father was the head teacher. She also attended the St John’s Sunday School in the town. In July 1893, results of the school exams were announced in the local newspaper, with Poppy passing Standard Grade III. In an example of the typical girl’s education of the time, she also passed sewing examinations earlier the same year.

It seems, however, that their lives were never to be entirely free of drama. Shortly before the school exams in 1893, the family home – the schoolmaster’s house – had been destroyed by fire. Frederick and Catherine had been awakened to thick smoke, and, unable to reach the terrified children, whose bedroom was at the back of the house, Frederick used a tomahawk to smash through the window to rescue them. They lost virtually everything in the inferno.

A year earlier, on 22 June, a freak tornado had ripped through Ballarat. Kelly and Preston’s foundry in Creswick Road (just above Holmes Street) bore the brunt of the storm. The upper half of the adjacent smoke stack, standing 45-feet tall, collapsed onto the building. Catherine Popplewell’s father, John Preston, was buried under tons of bricks. He was alive when extricated, but died of his injuries the next day.

After the fire, Frederick Popplewell resigned his position at the Dannevirke School. Around the same time, Catherine and the children travelled to Ballarat. The separation was complete – Catherine never saw or heard from her husband again. And to all intents, Frederick Popplewell completely disappeared.

The young family moved in with Catherine’s widowed mother in the Creswick Road home and Poppy and her siblings were enrolled at the Dana Street State School. Elizabeth Preston was to become a central figure in Poppy’s life for nine years before her death on 24 July 1902.

After her mother’s estate was finalised, Catherine moved with her younger children into a new home at 4 Pleasant Street south.

With the resultant financial changes in the lives of the Popplewell children, it became necessary for the girls to find suitable employment. Ruby became a dressmaker and Alice eventually worked as a milliner. But for Poppy, the move to Australia may have prompted a career choice she may not have considered had her family stayed together in the traditional sense. In the April intake at the Ballarat District Hospital, Poppy was named as one of the new student nurses. Thus, she joined the ranks of one of the best teaching hospitals outside metropolitan Melbourne.

At the Ballarat Hospital, Poppy quickly became firm friends with other student nurses, Lil MacKenzie and Priscilla Wardle, and they were to share a similar path through the coming years.

By 1909, Catherine and her daughters were living at 505 Mair Street. The location was ideal for Poppy, being just a short walk to the hospital, and near the Congregational Church (on the corner of Mair and Dawson Streets), where the family worshipped. Catherine, in particular, was noted for her church and temperance work.

After completing her time as a probationer and trainee, Poppy continued to gain experience working on the wards and in the theatre of the Ballarat Hospital. The trio of friends, Poppy, Lil (Mack) and Priscilla, were soon charge nurses at the hospital.
Poppy and Lil then transferred to the Royal Women’s Hospital in Melbourne to study midwifery. With their course completed, the intrepid pair then set out for Poppy’s homeland, taking nursing positions at the Otaki Hospital on New Zealand’s North Island. They worked there until March 1913, when they both resigned their positions, with Lil taking over the role as matron of the Taihape Private Hospital and Poppy joining the staff of the Thorndon Private Hospital in Wellington.

During that period, Poppy also developed a close and enduring friendship with the Corkill family. Banker, Thomas E. Corkill and his wife, Mara, were prominent members of Wellington’s social circle and their children were all equally inspiring, with two of their sons becoming leading doctors. They appear to have been a surrogate family for Poppy Popplewell.
On Saturday 19 June 1915, Catherine Popplewell received heartbreaking news that her youngest son, Cecil, had been killed in action at Gallipoli. She later wrote to the Minister of Defence asking for details of his death – even the date of his death, which was 19 May – ‘it seems so little just the bare facts that he was killed.’

Within days of being told that her brother was dead, Poppy chose to “do her bit” by joining the New Zealand Army Nursing Service. She was examined at Wellington on 23 June. The physical examination was quite an interesting exercise – the standard description was supplied: she was 5-feet 4-inches tall and weighed 122-pounds; her complexion was fair, complimented by hazel eyes and brown hair. Where the details on a serviceman’s record were quite basic, a prospective nurse was thoroughly investigated with every aspect of the health of each candidate being covered. As a result, we know that Poppy had normal eyesight (including colour vision) and hearing; her heart and lungs were normal and she had good teeth. There was also a ‘distinct sign’ that she had been vaccinated (she would later be inoculated against typhoid during the trip to Egypt). In response to being asked, ‘Have you ever been ill?’ and ‘have you ever had a fit?’ Poppy responded with a no. The final question clearly showed the high expectation placed on women: ‘Is she in good bodily and mental health and free from any physical defect likely to interfere with the efficient performance of her duties?’ Fortunately, Poppy had no difficulty passing all expectations.

After being accepted for overseas service, Poppy resigned her position at the Thorndon Private Hospital and went to Otaki for a short visit. She reported for duty on 6 July and prepared for embarkation onboard the Hospital Ship Maheno.

‘…The vessel left her berth on the outside of the King’s wharf shortly before 1pm on Saturday, and anchored in the stream. The nurses were required to embark before 10am on Saturday. His Excellency Lord Liverpool paid a farewell visit to the vessel shortly before she drew out from her berth. Several hundred people, who were under the impression that the Maheno would not leave the wharf before 2pm on Saturday, came down to bid farewell to friends on board, and were greatly disappointed to find that the boat had gone to the stream. To make matters worse, heavy showers of rain caught some of the people on the wharf without shelter…’

As a consequence of the confusion, when the Maheno sailed from Wellington on 11 July, the departure was ‘quite without any display.’ The voyage to Egypt was made via Adelaide, Albany, Colombo and Suez.

On reaching Port Said on 18 August, Poppy joined the No1 New Zealand Stationary Hospital.

Preparations were soon made to transfer the No1 NZSH to Salonika (Thessaloniki) in Greece as part of the New Zealand contribution to action in the Balkans. This resulted in the authorities making one of the worst decisions of the war. The staff of doctors, nurses and orderlies, along with troops bound for Gallipoli, were duly loaded onto the troopship Marquette, which embarked on 19 October 1915. Without protection of the international symbol of the Red Cross, the Marquette became an acceptable target for the German submarines patrolling the waters between Egypt and Turkey. In fairness, the submarine commander could have had no inkling that the Marquette was carrying nurses.

As the Marquette entered the Gulf of Salonika at around 9:15am on 23 October, a U-boat fired a single torpedo into the side of the ship. The Marquette sank quickly and was gone within 10-minutes. In the panic, hundreds of survivors were then cast into the freezing water, beginning a horrifying battle to survive. Rescue was several hours in arriving, by which time 167 people had drowned, including 10 New Zealand nurses. Poppy Popplewell gave a dramatic account of her experience in the form of letters written to family and friends.

'...I wonder very much if you have heard of the disaster which befell us last month. No doubt our friends in New Zealand will have sent you papers where everything is printed and explained. Of course, New Zealand is kept well up in all our movements. There will be dreadful consternation now when they know that we have lost 10 of our sisters and about 40 of our men.

We did not know where we were bound for until well out to sea. Then it proved to be Salonika. However, we never reached there, as a submarine got us when we were 40 miles out.

I cannot talk much of the disaster; it is too awful. The torpedo hit us very neatly, and in from seven to twelve minutes from then we were all in the water, and the Marquette, huge boat as she was, was nowhere to be seen. You might imagine what we felt like. My chum, Sister Rattray, and I managed to stick together. We clung to the same bit of wreckage. There were also another sister and a man. It was only a few boards, about half the size of a door, and we hung to a corner each. My friend was terrified, and as the day went on was so ill. The day grew bitterly cold, and just about an hour before we were rescued she died. It was too cruel. I was about done then, and could not hold her up any longer, and simply had to let here go. I thought I would be next. The man had slipped off by this time also, and the other sister was very sick, and had no heart left. We crawled up on top of the boards and lay flat down, and let the awful sea do as it liked with us. Then a lifeboat, sent off from a British mine-sweeper, picked us up, and, oh goodness, how good those men were to us! We were helpless and wet through, and almost frozen with cold. They gave us a dose of brandy and rolled us up in blankets and dried our few remaining clothes, and after some hours transferred us to a hospital ship in Salonika harbour.

Fortunately, we had had lifebelt drill, and knew how to put them on; if not of course we would all have been drowned, for there was time for nothing else.

I expect there will be a fuss in New Zealand about putting sisters on a transport with an ammunition column, etc, but it is little use now it is all over. If only our friends were all here we would not mind a scrap; we all felt proud of being selected to go in the first place, and of being on such an important ship, and although we never understood the risk, still I think we would have been willing to risk it had it been put to us. It was just warfare; there is no doubt of that, and they did their job very cleverly moreover.

They sent the remainder of us back to Alexandria to pick up a bit and get our equipment together again, which the Government is to replace, and everyone here is being most kind and generous to us. We were most thankful for the Red Cross gifts on the hospital ship. The matron had a good stock, which she distributed in a way she could not do with ship property of course. To begin with we each got a pair of warm pyjamas, most acceptable, then tooth brush, soap, and comb, etc, then socks, as most of our slippers were perished. The socks served as bedroom slippers, lovely big thick woolly ones.

I felt about 100, and thought I would never laugh again, but I did, and heartily when I pulled out a card that wished this 'soldier a pleasant journey and a safe return.'

Then we got warm woollen singlets, woollen golf coats, khaki ones - all men's of course - but most acceptable to us, and kindness after kindness from everyone.

Of course, we were all bruised and shaken more or less, and our matron is still ill with pneumonia, and three other girls ill enough for hospital in Alexandria. There we are supposed to rest and get our strength up and return to rejoin our unit. Some of the girls will go back soon. We all want to see the awful thing through, and do not mind how soon that is. We will be given light duties in local hospitals as soon as fit.

Every hospital here is full of medical work. It seems awful that our boys have come all this way to get so ill, and nothing doing as they say, and they are tired of it, and would give anything to be in the thick of the fight, and so would we…'

At this point, it is important to visualise exactly what Poppy experienced during those horrific hours – the strength it took for her to hold onto Lorna Rattray whilst maintaining her own hold on the wreckage, how dreadful it must have been to accept that her friend was gone, and then watch her slip away into the water. Whilst their deaths were later used as propaganda to encourage men to enlist (alongside the murder of nurse, Edith Cavell), the responsibility for the loss of the New Zealand nurses lay elsewhere. But there were few things more emotive than to ask men to avenge the innocent death of a woman.

Poor, brave Poppy was then taken to Salonika, where she was treated for the effects of her experience in the freezing Aegean Sea. From there, she travelled back to Egypt onboard the Grantully Castle, reaching Alexandria on 1 November. She was transferred to the Luxor Convalescent Depot for light duties on 1 December.

The following letter was written to Lil MacKenzie and Rosa Quarterman on 16 December, shedding further light on Poppy’s experiences…

‘…My dear Macksie & Rose,
It was so lovely to get your letters this morning & it is quite exciting to know you are near - or at least in the same country! - for of course it is not near for Luxor the Beautiful is no less than 400 miles from Cairo.

However, this is only a depot for the winter months & if I do not come through before will anyway be along in Feb. or March as it then gets unbearably hot up here. At present the weather is perfect & Luxor surely one of the most beautiful places in the world. As you have just arrived for duty I see no chance of you coming up here yet - a good many Australian Sisters have been up lately for a few days, I met several but I do not know their names but told them to look out for you & to tell you I was here & blooming.

You dears please don't be worrying your kind hearts about me I am alright. It was an appalling experience & the saddest day of my life too & I did feel awful for a time, that is why I am here, they booked 4 of us for Luxor as needing a complete change & light duties - Certainly we have had the change but I do not know where the light duties come in! Nearly 3000 men & 20 Sisters means very long hours & often jolly heavy work too, personally I am as fit as possible & work was what I needed. I am beginning to bust all me buttings! but the others are not too well. In fact it was a mad idea to send all Sisters in rather indifferent health up here thinking it would be light & pleasant - it is jolly hard work & all the English Sisters are rather sick things - I'm the best of the crowd! - as far as health goes of course! but you know Poppy's modesty!
Another 36 N.Z. Sisters were to go to Salonika to our unit which we left there to "carry on" as best they could till we sent them the equipment from Alex & then joined them we thought - however they have advanced & are, I heard today, now only 7 miles from the firing line so needless to say do not need or want Sisters there!

So our girls are left high & dry - kicking their heels in idleness & envying us for being at work. We were nearly a month at an hotel in Alex after our return. We got a grant of £60 from the Govt & it was such hard work buying our equipment. You have no idea how awful it was - didn't I long for a D.I.C.! However in good time we got some clothing & uniforms made & some new boxes to keep it in etc. etc. It was hard work though. I do not know Cairo at all. Spent a few hours there on our way up here, it seems to have lots of good shops & might be easier shopping there - we motored out to the pyramids and so on.

I wonder where you two will be stationed. I do hope you will be together - no doubt you will as they are very kind the way they arrange to let friends keep together, & it means so much to have a chum in this country.

A New Zea. girl & I made friends coming over on the "Maheno" - she was such a dear & in such a short time we were such friends - just seemed to "fit in" in quite a curious manner & were both sent to Pt Said - shared a room there & one never moved & scarcely thought without the other - & we were so happy - we kept together the day of our disaster & hung on to the same piece of wreckage but Lorna was not as strong as I am & simply couldn't do it. I held her on for a long, long time & then she died of utter exhaustion not long before we were picked up - it was so dreadful - I was just able to hold up her face while she died & then so soon I had to let her go I couldn't hold her any longer but it was the most awful thing having to let her go & seeing her little grey body float right away from me - another Sister & I then climbed up on the boards we had & lay front down & didn't care a bit what the sea did to us - however it carried us up to a lifeboat sent off from a British mine sweeper - & so we were alright - had been in the water from 9 a.m. till nearly 5 p.m. so you may imagine how we felt or rather didn't feel ---

Well dears I didn't mean to go over it - it is all over now. I just feel a bit different somehow - will go the softlier and sadlier all my days I think - but these are sad & serious times are they not?

I wonder how you left all the Ballarat folk - Rose, I got your letter just before I got Mack's telegram - saying you expected to leave on the 10th & telling me about your entertainment at the B. Camp! How funny it must be - Macksie I didn't have a single line from you until the day we sailed for Salonika & then I got 2 letters from you, the first 2 you wrote after you got home - dearie, I did want to be with you so then. I wrote a long letter to you on the troopship but alas it is with all my belongings at the bottom of the Aegean Sea! I know one's possessions don't matter a scrap of course but you know one cannot help regretting the loss of one's treasures sometimes & please remember I haven't a photo to my name - now I know you must have both had yours taken before you left so please have pity on me & send me one at once will you? It is one's little treasures that one misses. I had a long letter from Midge yesterday. I wonder did you see her, Macksie? She sent me some sweet hankies and such a pretty book cover - it is quite nice to have some pretties again!

Our "affair" happened on the 23rd October & I had letters from N.Z. written on the 27th & they knew absolutely nothing of it - aren't the powers-that-be bounders the way they hold things back? & 10 of our Sisters & about 40 of our men gone! I think it is awful, and 5 out of the 10 were the girls I knew and liked best in the whole unit! --
Fancy Christmas so near - so much has happened this year & to me it seems so long. Thank you so much both of you for your kind letters - & I don't want anything not even your nice underclothing, Rosebud! There is quite a fair assortment of cotton stuff to be had in Egypt - & so far I have only equipped for this country - time enough to buy woollens when I know I am going to freeze, don't you think so - Do tell me where you are & about your work - we even got some of the recent frostbites from Gallipoli and Serbia up here last week! I do wish they would send you girls up here - we need some help badly -
Well - till we meet! I haven't seen Reeves at all - she is on Transport duty now - the Peninsula, Lemnos, Malta & England! She has had lots of experience.
Well this is a long screed & I've got a beast of a cold & must go to bed – Much, much love to you both
from Poppy…’
From Luxor, Poppy was transferred to the 15th General Hospital in Alexandria before joining the staff onboard the Hospital Ship Braemar Castle.

After being promoted to sister on 1 July 1916, Poppy was assigned for duty at the No2 New Zealand General Hospital at Walton-on-Thames – a picturesque market town in Surrey on the south bank of the River Thames. She began duty at the hospital on 13 September. Other than two-day’s rest at the New Zealand Nurses’ Convalescent Home at Sandwich (2-4 November 1916), Poppy was to work continuously for over a year at Walton before receiving a leave pass.

On 3 March 1917, it was announced that Poppy had been Mentioned in Despatches for ‘valuable services.’ It was then confirmed, on 24 October, that she had been decorated with the Royal Red Cross (2nd Class) for her bravery during the sinking of the Marquette.

Poppy’s life took a dramatic turn when, on 17 January 1918, Captain Eric Scott, a tall, handsome New Zealander, was admitted to the No2 NZGH. He had been serving on the Western Front with the Otago Mounted Rifles, before developing an infection that required hospital treatment. In the time he was at Walton, he and Poppy became close – a relationship that was to endure for the rest of their lives.

After three years continuous service, Poppy was granted early return to New Zealand on 7 September 1918. She sailed home onboard the transport Remuera.

On her return, Poppy was granted the ordinary three weeks leave by Director of Base Records; but this was extended by 28-days by the Surgeon General due to her serving since June 1915 and being a survivor of the Marquette, this was to enable her to visit her family in Australia.

In January 1919, Poppy was one of several nurses who approached the Matron-in-Chief, Australian-born Hester MacLean, asking to be accepted for massage training for Army Sisters. The request was immediately approved, with the directive that they were to undertake the next available six-month course at the Otago School of Massage, followed by a further 6-months practical course at one of the orthopaedic hospitals.

Meanwhile, Eric Scott had also returned safely home to New Zealand. He resumed his pre-war occupation as a commission agent in Timaru, on the South Island. In 1921, he took over the Chief Agency for Timaru of the Phoenix Assurance Company and also remained as a sub-agent for the Atlas Assurance Company.

The romance between Poppy and Eric also survived the war. It quickly became apparent that they had a common love of the game of golf, and in May 1924, they teamed up to win the play-off for the Dryden Cup at the Timaru Golf Club. This was to become an ongoing partnership that gave them both years of enjoyment.

It was a soft autumn Thursday afternoon, when, on 15 April 1926, Poppy and Eric were married at St Mary’s Anglican Church in Timaru. The beautiful, iconic church was decorated liberally with flowers of cream, blue and pink, and ample autumn foliage.
Thomas Corkill took on the role of father of the bride to give Poppy away, and the ceremony was performed by the Archdeacon J. A. Julius.
Poppy was described as looking ‘very charming,’ dressed in a gown of deep cream georgette, beaded in delicate crystals. With a long court train of the same material, a soft cream silk net veil, fastened by gold leaves, and a bouquet of ‘flame and yellow roses,’ Poppy was a vision on her wedding day.
Thomas and Mara Corkill’s youngest daughter, Jessie, was Poppy’s bridesmaid, whilst Frank Scott, Eric’s only brother, stood up as best man.
After the ceremony, Mara Corkill welcomed the guests to a reception at the Hydro Grand, one of Timaru’s most prominent hotels. Sadly, none of Poppy’s family made the trip from Australia for the wedding.
The newly married Mr and Mrs Scott then left on ‘their wedding tour,’ with Poppy dressed in ‘a becoming wallflower brown ensemble suit, with brown and fawn hat, and a smoked fox fur.’

On returning to Timaru, Poppy and Eric lived in a substantial brick Californian bungalow at 13 Seddon Street. The couple became familiar figures on the links at the Timaru Golf Club and Poppy became a quite proficient golfer.

They also enjoyed travelling, taking many driving tours around New Zealand. Their busy social life often featured in the Timaru Herald, and Poppy entertained frequent house guests. The couple also maintained their connection to St Mary’s.

Whilst Poppy and Eric did not have children of their own, they did not appear to suffer the lack thereof.
During World War II, Poppy became an active member of the South Island Voluntary Aid Division Council, and was Lady Superintendent of the VAD Red Cross. As a speaker at the Red Cross Society, Poppy could draw on her remarkable experiences from the Great War.

Although Eric was some seven years younger than Poppy, she was to outlive him by many years. His death on 6 August 1962, was another sad loss in Poppy’s long, eventful life. In his Will, Eric directed that his estate be placed in trust for ‘the sole use and benefit of my dear wife.’ Theirs had been a true love story.

Poppy continued to live in Timaru until her death. She had moved into the Margaret Wilson Home, where she died on 14 April 1976.

In Peter Rees harrowing and dramatic tribute to our nurses, ANZAC Girls, Poppy was featured prominently. When the book was produced as a television miniseries, Poppy was played by New Zealand actress, Brooke Williams. It is wonderful to know she has not been forgotten.