ifljg^ljlj A. Be CMfrniltgug mh'i^'miW^-'^^^ ■m^i REVEILL DEVOTED TO THE DISABLED SAILOR & SOLDIER. EDI TOR - JOHN GALSWORTHY ASSISTANT editor: •-- C.S.EVANS N No. I. AUGUST, I9I8. Artists at the Front (I) ... Max Beerbohm. A Pilgrim's Way The Gist of the Matter The First News Barbara's Wedding ... Rudyard Kipling. John Galsworthy Joseph Conrad. J. M. Barrie. Bellona and the Gentlest Art £. V. Lucas. Reveille Pensions Administration Restorative Treatment For Our Disabled The Romance of Surgery ... Curative Workshops Bedside Occupations The Return of the Officer... **Life!"... Outside the Hospital The Night Call Poirot and Bidan Experiences Task of the Local Committee Physical Education On Convoy ... Notes Byam Shaw. Rt. Hon. John Hodge, M.P. Sir John Collie, C.M.G. Major Robert Mitchell,C.B.E. Col. Sir Robert Jones, C.B. H;M. King Manoel. Lt.-CoL Goldthwait (A.E.F.) Civilian. Edmund J. Sullivan. Enid Bagnold. Jerome K. Jerome. John Galsworthy. Gilbert Nobbs ; A. G. Baker. A. Seymour Jones, J.P. Col.Netterville Barron , A.M.S. C. S. Evans. The Editor. A Summary of the New Royal Warrant. Tables. HALF-A-CROWN NET London: PUBLISHED BY HIS MAJESTY'S STATIONEEY OFFICE. To be purchased through any Bookseller or directly from H.M. Stationeby Office at the following addresses : ■ <^ [mpebial House, Kingsway, London, W.C. 2, and 28, Abingdon Street, London, S.W. 1 , J7, Pbteb Stbeet, Manchksteb : 1, St. Andbbw's Ceescent, C/isdiff; 23. Fobth Stbeet. Advertisements tt THE PLUROSTAT" FOR TREATMENT OF WOUNDED AND DISABLED SOLDIERS AND SAILORS. r BRITISH MANUFACTURE. THE "PLUROSTAT '^ii^'^ " REGISTERED DESIGN. SARTH FREE TUS. GALVANIC current for QalYanI SINUSOIDAL Current. FARADIC Current. LIGHT for Cystoscopea, Forehead CAUTERY. rosoft Corporal iscle Testing. 10-FARADIG Current. YANO-SINUS Current, iurgical Lamps. MOTOR POWER for driving Vibrators, Rhytlimlc Interrupters, Centrifuges, Pneumatic Pumps, «c. THRBB STANDARD MODELS. IONIC MEDICATION BATTERY OUTFITS and SWITCHBOARDS for all purposes. Write for full particulars of above apparatus, ancCjor our special publication The Equipment of the Electrical Department\of a Military Hospital.'* THE CAVENDISH ELECTRICAL CO., LTD., 105/107, Great Portland Street, LONDON, W. 1. ://www.archive.org/deta Advertisements ESSENTIAL. The loss of a leg is no longer one of the tragedies of war. Improvements in the art of manu- facture and in the science of fitting ; a fuller knowledge of the theory of walking and a better understanding of the sense of balance, have made the loss of a leg a very small handicap. Expert advice and expert service are always at your command at any of the Various branches. The Essential Artificial Limb Co., Ltd., (Telephone : 6843 Mayfair.) 24, South Molton Street,! London, W. 1. LEEDS, MANCHESTER, LIVERPOOL, 6, Portland Crescent. 172, Deansgate. 9, Tarleton Street. Telephone: 26179. Telephonel; 1748 RoYal. Advertisements Throat Affections in Children " Formamint Tablets are of particular value to children (in Tonsillitis), as they are pleasing and soothing." From Text-book on * Diseases of Children,' by Reginald Miller. Throat Affections : " Formamint Tablets should be sucked frequently." From Cautley's 'Diseases of Infants and Children.' Diphtheria : " Should the child object to its throat being syringed, and struggle much during the operation, it is wiser to discontinue this part of the treatment rather than to persist and run the risk of putting a dangerous physical strain upon a heart which may already be weakened. Formamint Tablets may be used with advantage under these circumstances. Children like them, and as a rule can be induced to suck one frequently." From *A System of Treatment,' edited by A. Latham and T. Crisp. NOTE.— It is now thoroughly established that the clinical results obtained from the genuine original Formamint Tablets are far superior to those yielded by any of the numerous varieties of formalin tablets. In prescribing Formamint, therefore, it is desirable to specify the genuine original tablets ; these are now entirely British, and are made in the same London factory, by the same special process and machinery, and by the same British chemical and technical staff that the German firm employed. Physicians are invited to apply for Testing Samples to : GENATOSAN, LTD. (British Purchasers of the Sanatogen Co.) Chairman: LADY MACKWORTH. 12, CHENIBS STREET, LONDON, W.C.I. NOTE. — As a protection against substitution, Formamint will later on be given a new name, which will be announced shortly. Advertisements Ui BAIRD&TATLOCK (LONDON), L^o 14, Cross Street, Hatton Garden, E.G. I. MANUFAGTURERS OF Bacteriological Instruments and Apparatus, Registered No. 664357. Agglutination Water Bath (United States Army Pattern.) DUROGLASS. A high resistance Borosilicate Laboratory Glassware. See 1918 Supplementary Catalogue. Advertisements Face Jhst nMtlet THE GIST OF THE MATTER. By JOHN GALSWORTHY. ** Reveille" is the new name of the quarterly Recalled TO Life, a review of all that is being done for the disabled sailor and soldier ; and the hand writing these words that of its new editor. When Lord Charnwood, to whom we pay a grateful tribute for his unselfish efforts and courtesy, laid down his stewardship, it seemed that a phase had ended, the time come for a fresh departure. The field of information had, in a sense, been covered, for those directly concerned, in the three numbers of Recalled to Life ; and the quarterly was beginning to fail between two stools. Its substance was too technical for the Public, and not perhaps technical enough for the experts. The faults of Reveille we shall discover in due time. It aims at being human, so there will be plenty. The use of such a Review as this is to reveal what the work of restoration means, to those who are being restored, to those restoring them, but even more — to the nation at large. For only if the Public realizes the situation and the facts can we hope for success. Our object will be to animate all with comprehension of the full need of a work as sacred as ever taxed a great people ; to stimulate effort, and not entirely to refrain from criticism. We are very well aware that a certain practical and down- right type of mind sees no use in any such attempt. '' Do the job, and don't bother to explain !" is his creed. With reverence for so business-like an attitude, we yet venture to think that there is some connection between motive and performance, demand and supply ; and that before human endeavour will flower, the sap must run up the stem from a watered ground. You may have a lovely system carefully thought out ; but, to make it work, the human material to which you would apply it must appreciate its necessity. And if the practical man rejoins : " But the Public isn't going to read Reveille ; it won't have 4 REVEILLE the smallest influence either on the mind of the disabled man or his friends, who only read the most popular journals," we answer that there are ways of elevating a cat besides hanging him ; nor is it ever safe to dogmatize about the formation of that most subtle creature, Public Opinion. Even if Reveille cannot hope to reach the million, it can at least knock at the doors of ardent spirits, each of whom forms the centre of an ever-widening circle of knowledge and goodwill. At all events, like the practical man we speak of, we can but do our job and trust to a Providence which recognizes that jobs are many and diverse, and concerned with the spirit no less than with the body. The new title Reveille was chosen because, though we look as if our eyes are open, we are not awake ; and because while Death still blows his bugle in those fields, we would blow a call against him. No need to remind a nation in arms that we pronounce and perhaps should now spell the word: Revelly. And if the passionate or the gentle reader comes, in the pages of Reveille, on renowned names and items of mere Art or Literature, and, rubbing his eyes, says : "What has this and that to do with the disabled soldier ? " le-t him not thereby be discouraged and turn away in liisgust ; let him pardon a poor editor who never edited before, and thought perhaps they might amuse. And let him doggedly read on. One thing more we would like known. Contributors to this Review profit not a penny thereby. They are rewarded only by the thought of giving for those whose lives have been risked and whose future is compromised for them. While we write, the earth is at Spring — for the reader will remember that this is a quarterly, and aeons pass between brandishing the pen and reading the strokes thereof — that moment of Spring so beautiful, when the lilac is out and the fruit blossom not yet ready to fall. Every tree is dowered with young beauty, and no two the same. Last evening they stood against the sunset, magical and delicate, with pale-gold light between the curling quiet leaves ; far away on the sky-line some elms had their topsails set ; the birds had lost their senses, singing. In such moments this green Land of ours has incomparable benuty, seeming to promise happiness which can satisfy even the human heart. The thought of wounds, of THE GIST OF THE MATTER 5 disfigurement and blindness, of lost limbs, twisted limbs, the thousand and one bodily disasters which this war has brought, becomes unbearable unless we keep the hope and the will to give back to the wounded something of this Spring and of the Summer which Spring leads to. We do not hold that hope to be forlorn, nor that will for a waste of heat and purpose. All paths lead to Rome, they say. The roads along which a man, however handicapped, can trudge to happiness are as varied as the swallow-tracks on the sunlight over a buttercup field. For each man disabled in this war there is a way to usefulness, a happy niche to be discovered ; for this is the first war since the world began which has seriously disturbed the conscience of mankind and set it working on the duties of active remorse and active gratitude. What men think and believe attainable, is to be attained. A brave man, now blind, said to us the other day: **The world's attitude to the blind, and the blind man's attitude to himself, has hitherto been formed by the whine of the blind beggar, which by the way meant so many more pennies in the blind man's cap. We know better nowadays. The blind man can be useful — and happy." If ^^ can be, so can the rest of the disabled. Facile optimism and easy-going pessimism are alike roads to ruin. The man who says : " It'll be all right on the night ! " and he who remarks : *' Wot's the good of anyfink — why, nuffink ! " are a light-hearted couple who will be found on the rocks together. Balance between vision and reality alone makes endeavour fruitful. And if — not being fools or children — we wish to give back to our disabled the utmost of health, utility, and joy, we must all see what we and they are up against, as well as scheme and dream of what they may become. From the Sunday hush, as we write, it is borne in on us that man is still made for the Sabbath ; and — quite candidly — there is always the danger of the disabled man existing for the sake of the System which is to cure him. Administrators, aware of this danger, will endeavour by every means not to enfold the disabled man till he becomes as some lost soul wandering from door to door within the vast barrack of the House of Restoration. It is for him and him alone that the 6 REVEILLE building exists, and in all his wanderings through its corridors on his journey back to civil life, he should be able to read, writ clear on the walls, the meaning and use of each step in the journey. He should never be allowed to have the feeling that he is being driven from pillar to post without, as it seems to him, design or purpose. The early stages, from the moment when he is picked up on the battlefield, or the deck of his ship, to the moment when he finds himself in one of our homeland Military hospitals, are clear enough. The trouble for him and for the System starts at the point when he begins to recover. Systems are wont to think in terms of facts and figures ; wounded men in terms of human feeling. The System exists for a double purpose ; the wounded man wishes that it existed for one — to cure him, and — let him go. He is either: (i) Obviously returnable to the Army ; (2) doubtfully returnable ; (3) clearly unreturnable. For the first of these classes the System provides a most complete process of physical restoration in Military hospitals, of which the orthopaedic hospitals^ have curative workshops attached ; followed by periods in convalescent hospitals and command depots. We have one general remark to make anent this process. By how much we remember that each man, though a soldier, and soon to be back with his regiment, is gifted with a mind which requires constant exercise and stimulus, by so much shall we hasten the process of his recovery, and heighten his morale. The professional soldier, except in the higher grades, is practically extinct. " We are all civilians now," a young officer said to us the other day. That should surely never be forgotten by anyone who takes part in the work of restoration. The System is bound to return to the Army or Navy every man it reasonably can, but it ought to attend to men's minds and spirits, so far as material con- ditions permit. Cure is a matter of mind as well as body, and anxiety a potent cause of slow recovery. In all cases of men doubtfully returnable there would seem to be one golden rule : Cast the issue on the knees of the gods, and do the best you can for ' Und^r Colonel Sir Robert Jones, C.B., an article from whose pen appears in this number. THE GIST OF THE MATTER 7 the man, lavishing on him every possible care, physical and mental, and remembering always this : Many a man would recover in his home surroundings, if freed at least temporarily from thought of return to the Army, who will never recover in hospital. In such borderland cases, both for the good of the Army and of the men, we think there might well be instituted some measure of discharge subject to periodic revision. We have known instances where the System's natural eagerness to return men to the Army has ended in the utter frustration of that possibility. But all men returnable are ultimately either returned to the Army or discharged. And it is the definitely disabled man — discharged or about to be discharged — who is the chief concern of this Review. Editors, with any sense of humour, must always look on themselves askance, conscious that a professional omniscience is very wearisome. That is why we take you with a fleeting pen over facts perhaps familiar to you already. The disabled man falls into nineteen categories.^ While still awaiting discharge he continues to be treated in Military hospitals, of many sorts, under the Director-General, General Goodwin, C.M.G. But on dis- charge he becomes subject to the Pensions Ministry for any further physical treatment, or training for civil life, which he consents to undergo ; and, of course, to their control in all matters relating to his pension.^ The further physical treatment of discharged men is carried on in special hospitals, institutions, colonies, or in annexes to the Military Orthopaedic hospitals, under the general control ot Sir John Collie, M.D., C.M.G.^ The training or re-education for civil life (under the Ministry of Pensions, co-operating wdth the Ministry of Labour) is in the hands of Local Committees, established by the Ministry of Pensions, under the general direction of Major Robert Mitchell, C.B.E.^ Such, in blunt outline, is the general scheme, which has reached a bold, and we believe a final shape, subject to ' See Table A, at the end of the Review. ' See the article by the Right Hon. John Hodge, M.P., Minister of Pensions ; and a Summary of " The New Royal Warrant," at the end of the Review. See his article ; and Appendix attached. * See his article ; and Tables B, and C, at the end of the eview. 8 REVEILLE improvement in detail. It is a colossal work, and each department has a herculean task before it. To this scheme, for better or worse, the Country is committed ; and with a clear call, all hands and hearts are summoned to make it live. For there is an enormous lot yet to be done. Up to May 31 last, 358,160 officers and men had been pensioned for disability; up to June 5, 38,480 were receiving or have received continued physical treatment, and only some 15,000 have taken or are taking retraining for civil life. It is not, of course, suggested that anything like all the discharged require either treatment or training, or both. But it is certain that a great proportion of them do. And none of us, least of all those responsible for the scheme, are satisfied with results, so far. A vast number of men were discharged before the present plans for continued physical treatment came into operation, but they have become merged in industry, and are most difficult to get hold of. Again, great numbers of discharged men slipped away into the first jobs which came along, before the present retraining schemes for civil life were started, and of those who are now being discharged, only a small proportion are as yet coming forward to be taught special occupations in which they can be sure of keeping a foothold when the full tide of industrial competition runs in once more. Why ? Let the reader imagine that for one, two, or three years he has been cut off from his home folk and all those occupations, interests and amusements which made up for him the sum of life ; that from morning to night he has done what he was told ; that for long months together, perhaps, he has been confronted with the fires of hell ; that for longer months he has lain in bed staring a hole in the opposite wall, or trailed hospital and street, still under discipline, still without power or initiative to decide anything, still a number — haled here, haled there, fed like a child, amused like a child ; suffering from paternalism and patronage ; sitting in the parks with his eyes on nothing ; blank of all definite expectation ; provided with all material comforts and sunk in a sort of Capuan dream ; or eating his heart out under a cheery, or at worst, an expressionless mask — let him imagine all this, and consider what he would do when his discharge comes. In his long-idle and cruelly-tried soul there would be no other impulse but to shake the dust of discipline from off his THE GIST OF THE MATTER 9 feet, and make a bee-line for home. Whatever his state, bitterly in want perhaps of continued treatment and training for a new start in life, utterly incapable of making good in the future without this help, yet he cannot — and you cannot expect him to — stay and take it at once. A good long draught of home and freedom is his imperative demand ; and when that is over, and he begins to own his soul again, he takes too often the line of least resistance. Our friends, the Italians, have an invaluable specific against this. They make the man's discharge provisional on his returning to a training school for a month or six weeks, that he may be shown the process, and tempted to take the necessary training to secure his future. At the end of that time he may depart if he likes, but as a general rule he stays. Seeing the shape that our system has taken, there are now perhaps insur- mountable difficulties in embodying this specific. But it seems a very great pity. For there is no blinking the fact that, at present, owing to lack of moral pressure on them at the right moment, our men are only coming forward for retraining in minimum numbers. Hospital life is an ideal foster-mother of lethargy, mental and physical. With few exceptions, the wounded man in hospital is rusting mentally ; he is, auto- matically, encouraged thereto by every condition of his life — the lassitude left by severe strain, hard work, and pain ; the help- lessness of his body ; the monotony of the routine ; the very care with which he is tended ; his eagerness to have finished with it and get out, which would destroy him if it did not soon turn to stoic apathy ; anxiety about his future, presently reduced perforce to a don't-care mood ; aimless w^alks and amusements in his hours of leave ; lack of any say in his own fate. All these conditions soon dry up his mental energy. He becomes what is called " hospitalized," and goes back home on discharge, almost incapable of initiative ; indisposed to a wide and resolute view^ over his jeopardized future. On the top of this mood comes the present fatal facility with which he can get work. For him and for the Public the present scarcity of labour grievously blurs the real nature of his position, cruelly deceives him about his future chances. Often, he is able to take up his old job ; if he is really as efficient as he was nothing can be better. As a rule, he is not ; but he finds his former employer lo REVEILLE sympathetic, and short-handed — head and heart for once agree. Neither of them stops to consider how long he can keep that old job. The disabled man does not pause to remember that he is only, say, twenty-five or thirty years old, and has thirty to forty working years before him ; his benevolent employer does not pause to recollect that he used to find it necessary, before the war, to get the most efficient labour, or go under to his rivals ; that his maxim was and will be again : " No square pegs in round holes." While the w^ar lasts the square pegs are welcome, and all's well. But when the war is over, the cruel force of industrial competition will come into fuller play than ever before. What rude awakening is coming for them both ! It seems hard to counsel an employer to consider whether he is really serving the interests of a disabled man by taking him back under these present highly exceptional conditions, instead of saying : *' My friend, I can easily take you back now, but in your own best interests I won't. Go and get trained for a job which you will be able to keep, no matter what is the future state of trade and industrial competition. We must both look ahead. There are hard times coming, and you are young." That is, however, exactly what we do counsel employers to think and say, unless the disabled man is worth loo per cent., or at least 90 per cent, in comparison with able workmen. Even those who do not go back to their old jobs find little dif^culty just now in getting work of a sort near their old homes, and, helped by their pensions, think themselves all right. We cannot repeat too often or with too great emphasis our con- viction that they are living in a fool's paradise. There is a square hole to be found for all these square pegs, a proper niche for every disabled man, often a better position than that which he held before ; but if he will not fit himself for it, and if the Public will not help him, nay, force him to find it, we are in for most horrible tragedy and disgrace a few years hence. There is yet another hindrance to the w^orking of the scheme — the British character. The Briton is an incurable amateur, sometimes of genius, generally of merit, but almost always an amateur. This amateurism is our strength and our weakness ; it brings sportsmanship, elasticity and gusto ; but it hampers us with fecklessness, extravagance, and muddle. The Briton is also — we speak in the large — a practical person THE GIST OF THE MATTER ii with short views ; the greatest and most generous spendthrift under the sun ; very combative and competitive deep down, yet very lazy till he is roused. And, of all men, he loves to paddle his own canoe. These qualities make him fascinating to the observer, and would break the heart of any administrator who was not himself a Briton. The Briton disabled by this war belongs, of course, chiefly to what are called the working classes ; add to his British character the working man's philosophy always to make the best of to-day without considering too much what to-morrow may bring forth, and we have perfect conditions for a hand-to-mouth treatment of his endangered future. His whole instinct and habit is to say: "Tm not worrying ; something will turn up." Micawber was very British. " Time enough to bother " — we seem to hear him say — *' when we see the rocks." The attitude of his leaders is sometimes not dissimilar. According to some, the present indifference of the disabled man to the schemes provided for his rehabilitation is of little consequence. ** There is the machinery of training," they say, '' not only for now, but for whenever he likes to avail himself of it. When the war is over and he gets pushed out of work, he will be glad enough to come and get trained for the jobs which he can do." We by no means share this cheery view. It is based on a misconception of human nature, especially of the British nature. We think that when a man has been back in civil life some time, and is beginning to forget the jolt and jar of the war, he will rather stay even on the rocks, living on his pension, on charity, and odd jobs, than put himself to school again. Further, we think that the energy of Local Committees and of people generally interested now in this great problem, will rapidly evaporate when the war is over and we are no longer in danger, and more- over have become troubled by a new crop of economic diffi- culties. Human memory is very shoi-t, and human gratitude not too long. We are not all angels — like soldiers in time of war, editors when writing their screeds, poets before, and mayors after, dinner. Finally, we think that those special permanent niches which could now be secured by disabled men if they would train for them, will be usurped by the flood of returning labour, and that what is at present a real opportunity 12 REVEILLE will rapidly become invisible. We are convinced that if the Government's scheme for special treatment and special training is not made proper use of within the next two or three years, it never will be. We pass now from the four broad reasons — human nature, hospital lethargy, easily-found, well-paid, impermanent work, and the British character — which stand in the way of success, to certain points in the working out of the scheme, which are recognized as capable of improvement. First, we believe that if at all possible — as aforesaid — it would be excellent to insist on all men who cannot take up their old work as efficiently as before, attending for just a month's experimental course at a training school, after a spell of home leave, before they receive their discharge from the Army. Next, we feel that success depends on breaking up the hospitalized state of mind, of enlivening a man's intellect and interest while he is still in hospital, and fostering in him the inclination to come to grips with his future. The orthopaedic hospitals have their excellent curative workshops,^ but too few other hospitals, for lack of space and other reasons, have any form of instruction. Somehow or other, a man must be given more occupation, either in hospital, or better, outside during his leave hours, to take him out of himself, sharpen his faculties, hearten his will-power, and incline him to some new and suit- able life-job. Most, if not all, hospitals have, of course, visitors, who give much unselfish devotion to the men ; but, in our con- viction, every hospital from which men are discharged needs some civilian, definitely appointed and equipped with a bureau, who will give his or her whole heart and whole time to the wounded man's affairs, his past, home circumstances, future hopes and wants ; act as a liaison officer between him and his Local Committee, and keep before him constantly the necessity of making the utmost of the chances for after-treatment and training offered. Devoted, tactful, practical, whole-time persons are hard to find, but to find and attach them to such hospitals seems to us a sine qua non of success. This suggestion has been made before, but not adopted, so far as we are aware, up to the time of writing. ' An account of which is given by King Manoel, to whose initiative we owe them. THE GIST OF THE MATTER 13 We think it is vital too, that all Local War Pensions Com- mittees should also have at least one carefully selected person oiving whole time to the work, and always accessible to the applicants.^ For some of these posts, both in hospitals and on Local Committees, disabled officers, cunningly chosen, and adequately paid, might perhaps be found, with sufficient know- ledge, interest, and tact. All such appointments are subject to the caveat : ** Better none than the wrong," but that is hardly a reason for not trying to find the right. We hope that the search for them may be general before these words are read. Speaking with the diffidence which becomes laymen, we believe that all the departments which administer this vast work fully appreciate the great importance of co-opera- tion. They are all concerned with the one business of restoring the wounded man to the utmost, whether it be for return to the Army or to civil life. And just as it has been found vital to fuse the Allied Forces in France and Flanders, so it is vital here to fuse the efforts of the Red Cross, War Office, Pensions Ministry, and Labour Ministry. Weakness or leakage at points of juncture can detract dismally from the force of a general effort. The motto of all may well run : " Be not trustees of your own departments first, and servers of the general purpose second ; keep the restoration of the wounded man in the forefront of your minds, and sacrifice everything else — even your own dignities — to that. Restoration of the man, and nothing else, matters ! " The proportions of this war are so vast, the numbers so huge, the future so gravely menaced, that there is really no time for dispersion, overlapping, or red tape. This, after troubled experience, has become the common-sense view of all who have the matter at heart. Fearful complexities have had to be facedj vast machinery has had to be evolved. The plan is at last complete, and on a generous scale ; devotion and ability are behind it, in abundance ; enormous obstacles and a jungle of difficulties still lie in front. It cannot be too zealously fused and speeded up. But in all there is a real faith that the thing can and must be done ; the debt of gratitude ' See an article by Mr. A. Seymour Jones, on the " Task of the Local War Pensions Committees." 1 4 REVEILLE weighing on the nation's conscience wiped out, within the Hmits of human effort ; and a great cause, which honours human nature, brought to fruition. With words to the Public we would close this screed. Our eyes look out on a Britain daily more and more peopled by sufferers in this war. In every street, on every road and village-green we meet them — crippled, half-crippled, or showing little outward trace, though none the less secretly deprived of health. Yet, there are but few who cannot be fitted again into our national structure, and restored to the happiness of a useful, self-respecting life. Many openings are available, many occupations suitable. A huge jig-saw puzzle confronts us, and there is not one among us all who cannot take a hand in solving it. To think that it is none of our business is to be woefully in error. The Public — and by the Public we mean every man and woman In these islands — can do more than the System. What the Public thinks and wishes, the disabled man will come to think and wish. If we, who know or watch the sufferer, are foolish or indifferent about his future, he too will be foolish and indifferent. If a mans friends and people acquiesce in his drifting into the first job, however unsuitable, which comes along, he will surely drift ; if they are content that he should drone away a future of twenty to fifty years on a pension and makeshift earnings, he will do so in a vast number of cases. We must make him feel that this can only end miserably for him ; impi'ess on him that by a little effort and a little gumption he can be fitted w^Ith a secure and profitable job ; persuade and urge him till he makes the necessary effort. Then only will he rally to recovery of full working powers, full self-respect, and happiness. Those of us who, by easy-going indulgence or indifference, now encourage the disabled man to drift, are guilty of Ingrati- tude to him, and will be the first to show impatience and heartlessness, when, five or ten years hence, we see him cumbering the ground, hopeless and embittered, often out of work, and always an eyesore to a nation which will wish to forget there ever was this war. Each of us has a duty to these men, and an Immense debt to pay ; not by mere ''treating " and washy praise, but by doing something for him, by strengthening his will to THE GIST OF THE MATTER 15 •* make good " again, by urging him and helping him to find the job best suited to him. If we let him take a short- sighted view of his case we speed him down the hill. We all know personally some disabled man ; let us set to, and persuade him that he is capable of much more in the future than he thinks he is, more perhaps than he was before the war. Many a disabled man can earn better money at more interesting work than he ever before had the chance to. If he looks on himself as done for, he is done for. We must prevent that ; and above all, make him understand that present conditions are hopelessly misleading. A few years hence he will often be no more able to keep the job which easily comes to his hand now, than the lame, the halt, the poor in health were able to keep their jobs in those old peace times, so much easier than peace times will be henceforth. Now is the time to say to him : '' Pluck up your spirit; better your position in life. Take the permanent and special chances given you while they are still open. Don't hesitate. Don't drift. It's fatal ! " Patriotism and gratitude demand this of every wife, father, mother, and friend of each disabled man ; demand it for his sake who gave so much for them ; and for the sake of our Country, whose wings are clipped by the devastation of this war. What sort of a Land will it be if, five and ten years hence, tens of thousands injured in this long tragedy are drifting unhappy amongst us, without the anchorage of permanent, well-paid, self-respecting work ? We have not realized yet. If we do not realize soon, and make the disabled realize, it will be too late. We are entering on the fifth year of the war ; we do not know when it will finish. The economic aftermath may not come on us at once, but when it comes it will be unexampled for severity. The disabled, unprovided for by special work, will, by the laws of Nature and of human nature, be the first to suffer. At present, possibly not one in three of our discharged soldiers who needed further physical treatment has taken it ; and perhaps not one in ten who really require to be re-educated to special work is being trained for it. The System is helpless without a great awakening of the Public^ and through the Public of the disabled man. i6 THE FIRST NEWS. By JOSEPH CONRAD. Four years ago, on the first day of August, in the town of Cracow, Austrian Poland, nobody would believe that the war was coming. My apprehensions were met by the words : '' We have had these scares before." This incredulity was so universal amongst people of intelligence and information, that even I, who had accustomed myself to look at the inevitable for years past, felt my conviction shaken. At that time, it must be noted, the Austrian army was already partly rpobilized and as we came through Austrian Silesia we had noticed all the bridges being guarded by soldiers. " Austria will back down," was the opinion of all the well- informed men with whom I talked on the first ^f August. The session of the University was ended and the students were either all gone or going home to different parts of Poland, but the professors had not all departed yet on their respective holidays ; and amongst them, all certainly well-informed men, the tone of scepticism prevailed generally. Upon the whole there was very litde inclination to talk about the possibility of a war. Nationally, the Poles felt that from their point of view there was nothing to hope from it. '' Whatever happens," said a very distinguished man to me, "we may be certain that it's our skins which will pay for it as usual." A well-known literary critic and writer on economical subjects said to me : ** War seems a material impossibility, precisely because it would mean the complete ruin of all material interests." He was wrong, as we know ; but those who said that Austria as usual would back down were, as a matter of fact, perfectly right. Austria did back down. What these men did not foresee was the interference of Germany. And one cannot blame them very well ; for who could guess that, when the balance stood even, the German sword would be thrown into the scale with nothing in the open political situation to THE FIRST NEWS \^ justify that act, or rather that crime — if crime can ever be justified? For, as the same intelligent man said to me: *' As it is, those people" (meaning Germans) ''have very nearly the whole world in their economic grip. Their prestige is even greater than their actual strength. It can get for them practically everything they want. Then why risk it ? " And there was no apparent answer to the question put in that way. I must also say that the Poles had no illusions about the strength of Russia. Those illusions were the monopoly of the Western world. Next day the librarian of the University invited me to come and have a look at the library which I had not seen since I was 14 years old. It was from him that I learned that the greater part of my father's MSS. was preserved there. He confessed that he had not looked them through thoroughly yet, but he told me that there was a lot of very important letters bearing on the epoch from '60 to '(^'^^ to and from many prominent Poles of that time ; and he added : " There is a bundle of correspondence that will appeal to you personally: Those are letters written by your father to an intimate friend in whose papers they were found. They contain many refer- ences to yourself, though you couldn't have been more than 4 years old at the time. Your father seems to have been extremely interested in his son.'" That afternoon I went to the University, taking with m^e my eldest son. The attention of that young Englishman was mainly attracted by some relics of Copernicus in a glass case. I saw the bundle of letters and accepted the kind proposal of the librarian that he should have them copied for me during the holidays. In the range of the deserted vaulted rooms lined with books, full of august memories, and in the passionless silence of all this enshrined wisdom, we walked here and there talking of the past, the great historical past in which lived the inextinguishable spark of national life ; and all around us the centuries-old buildings lay still and empty, composing themselves to rest after a year of work on the minds of another generation. No echo of the German ultimatum to Russia penetrated that academical peace. But the news had come. When we stepped into the street out of the deserted main quadrangle, we three, I imagine, were the only people in the town who did not 2 1 8 REVEILLE know of it. My boy and I parted from the librarian (who hurried home to pack up for his holiday) and walked on to the hotel, where we found my wife actually in the car waiting for us to take a run of some ten miles to the country house of an old school-friend of mine. He had been my greatest chum. In my wanderings about the world I had heard that his later career both at school and at the University had been of extra- ordinary brilliance — in classics, I believe. But in this, the iron-grey moustache period of his life, he informed me with badly concealed pride that he had gained world fame as the Inventor — no. Inventor is not the word — Producer, I believe would be the right term — of a wonderful kind of beetroot seed. The beet grown from this seed contained more sugar to the square inch — or was it to the square root ? — than any other kind of beet. He exported this seed, not only with profit (and even to the United States), but with a certain amount of glory which seemed to have gone slightly to his head. There is a funda- mental strain of agriculturalist in a Pole which no amount of brilliance, even classical, can destroy. While we were having tea outside, looking down the lovely slope of the gardens at the view of the city in the distance, the possibilities of the war faded from our minds. Suddenly my friend's wife came to us with a telegram in her hand and said calmly: "General mobilization, do you know ? " We looked at her like men aroused from a dream. " Yes," she insisted, ''they are already taking the horses out of the ploughs and carts." I said : '' We had better get back to town as quick as we can," and my friend assented with a troubled look : '* Yes, you had better." As we passed through villages on our way back we saw mobs of horses assembled on the commons with soldiers guarding them, and groups of villagers looking on silently at the officers with their note-books checking deliveries and writing out receipts. Some old peasant women were already weeping aloud. When our car drew up at the door of the hotel, the manager himself came to help my wife out. In the first moment I did not quite recognize him. His luxuriant black locks were gone, his head was closely cropped, and as I glanced at it he smiled and said : '* I shall sleep at the barracks to-night." I cannot reproduce the atmosphere of that night, the first night after mo^ ilization. The shops and the gateways of the THE FIRST NEWS 19 houses were of course closed, but all through the dark hours the town hummed with voices ; the echoes of distant shouts entered the open windows of our bedroom. Groups of men talking noisily walked in the middle of the roadway escorted by distressed women ; men of all callings and of all classes going to report themselves at the fortress. Now and then a military car tooting furiously would whisk through the streets empty of wheeled traffic, like an intensely black shadow under the great flood of electric lights on the grey pavement. But what produced the greatest impression on my mind was a gathering at night in the coffee-room ' of my hotel of a few men of mark whom I was asked to join. It was about one o'clock in the morning. The shutters were up. For some reason or other the electric light was not switched on, and the big room was lit up only by a few tall candles, just enough for us to see each other's faces by. I saw in those faces the awful desolation of men whose country torn in three found itself engaged in the contest with no will of its own and not even the power to assert itself at the cost of life. All the past was gone, and there was no future, whatever happened ; no road which did not seem to lead to moral annihilation. I remember one of those men addressing me after a period of mournful silence compounded of mental exhaustion and unexpressed forebodings. "What do you think England will do ? If there is a ray of hope anywhere it is only there." I said: " I believe I know what England will do" (this was before the news of the violation of Belgian neutrality arrived), *' though I won't tell you, for I am not absolutely certain. But I can tell you what I am absolutely certain of. It is this : If England comes into the war, then, no matter who may want to make peace at the end of six months at the cost of right and justice, England will keep on fighting for years if necessary. You may reckon on that." '* What, even alone ? " asked somebody across the room. I said : '* Yes, even alone. But if things go so far as that England will not be alone." I think that at that moment I must have been inspired. 20 BARBARA'S WEDDING. An Echo of the War. By J. M. BARRIE. Thf Colonel is in the sitting room of his country cottage, staring through the open windows at his pretty garden. He is in trouble. He is a very old man and is sometimes bewildered nowadays. He calls to the gardener^ a rough capable young fellow, wj^o is on a ladder, pruning. Dering comes to him. Colonel. A beautiful morning, Dering. Dering. Too much sun, sir. The roses are complaining ; and to make matters worse Miss Barbara has been watering them — in the heat of the day. Colonel. Has she ? She means well. Dering, you heard it, didn't you ? Dering. What was that, sir ? Colonel. The thunderstorm, early this morning. Dering. There was no thunderstorm, sir. Colonel. That's what they all say. It was at four o'clock. I got up and looked out of the window. The evening prim- roses were very beautiful. Dering. I don't hold much with evening primroses, sir, but I was out and about at four. There was no thunderstorm. Colonel (^gently), I suppose I just thought there was. Perhaps it was some thunderstorm of long ago that I heard. I'm glad to see you moving about, Dering, in the garden all just as usual. Dering. Thank you, sir. Colonel. No, don't go. I'm a little — troubled, Dering. Dering (who knows that the old man has a wandering mind). Everything's all right, sir. Colonel. Yes, yes. It's nice to see you've come back, Dering. Why did you go away for such a long time } Dering. Me, sir ? I haven't had a day off since Christmas. Colonel. Haven't you? I thought — is everything just as usual ? BARBARA'S WEDDING 21 Bering. Yes, sir. There never was a place that changed less than this. Colonel {eager). That's true. Thank you, Bering, for saying that. Bering, there's nothing wrong, is there ? Bering. Wrong, sir ? Colonel. Is anything happening, Bering, that Tm not being told about ? Bering. Not that I know of, sir. Colonel. That's what they all say, but — I don't know \^he looks at his sword over the fireplace\ Bering, I feel as if I was needed somewhere. I don't know where it is. No one will tell me. ( Whispers?) Where's everybody, Bering ? Bering. They're all about, sir. There's a cricket match on at the village green. Colonel. Is there ? Bering. If the wind had a bit of south in it you could hear their voices. You were a bit of a nailer at cricket your- self, sir. Colonel {chuckling). Ninety-nine against Mallowfield, and then bowled off my pads! Biggest score I ever made. Mallowfield wanted to add one to make it the 100, but I wouldn't have it. I was pretty good at steering them through the slips, Bering ! Bo you remember my late cut .^ It didn't matter where point stood I got past him. You used to stand at point, Bering. Bering. That was my grandfather, sir. He always said he used to snap you regular at point. Colonel {crestfallen^ but polite). Bid he } I daresay he did. I can't play now but I like to watch it still [troubled again']. Bering, there's no cricket on the green to-day. I've been down to look. I don't understand it, Bering. When I got there the green was all dotted with them — it's the prettiest sight and sound in England. But as I watched them they began to go away, one and two at a time ; they weren't given out, you know, they went as if they had been called away. Some of the little shavers stayed on — and then they went off — as if they had been called away too. The stumps were left lying about. Why is it ? Bering. It's just fancy, sir. I saw Master Will oiling his bat yesterday. Colonel {relieved). Bid you ? I should have liked to see 22 REVEILLE that. I've often oiled their bats for them. Careless lads, they always forgot. Was that nice German boy with him ? Dering. Mr. Karl ? Not far off, sir. He was sitting by the bend of the stream playing on his flute. And Miss Barbara, she had climbed one of my apple trees ; she says they are your trees. Colonel. They are, you know, Dering. Dering. Yes, sir, in a sense, but I don't like any of you to meddle with them ; and there she sat, pelting the two of them with green apples. Colonel. How like her. Don't know how we are to make a demure young lady of her. Dering. They say in the village, sir, that Master Will would like to try. Colonel. Ha, ha ! He's just a colt himself \troubled?[. Who are here now, Dering : in the house I mean ? I some- times forget. They grow old so quickly. They go out at one door in the bloom of youth, and come back by another, tired and grey. Haven't you noticed it .^ Dering. No, sir. The only visitors staying here are Miss Barbara and Mr. Karl. There's just them and yourselves, sir ; you and the mistress and Master Will. That's all. Colonel. Yes, that's all. Who is the soldier, Dering ? Dering. Soldier, sir.'* There is no soldier here except yourself. Colonel. No ? There was a nurse with him. Who is ill ? Dering. No one, sir. There's no nurse. Would you like me to call the mistress, sir .'* Colonel. No, she has gone down to the village. She told me why, but I forget. Miss Barbara is with her. Dering. Miss Barbara is down by the stream, sir. Colonel. Is she ? I think they said they were going to a wedding. [ With an old mans curiosity] Who is being married to-day, Dering ? Dering. I have heard of no wedding, sir. But here is Miss Barbara. \Barbara romps in. She is a merry hoyden, running over with animal spirits^ Colonel {gaily). Here's the tomboy ! Barbara. Dering, I believe you are complaining to the Colonel about my watering the flowers at the wrong time of day } BARBARA'S WEDDING 23 Colonel. Aha ! Aha ! Dering. I did just mention it, miss. Barbara. You horrid ! Dear, don't mind him. And every time he says they are his flowers and his apples, you tell me, and I shall say to his face that they are yours. Colonel. The courage of these young things ! \Pering smiles and goes ^ Barbara. Let me make you comfy — the way granny does it. \She arranges his cushions clumsily. \ Colonel. That's not quite the way she does it. Do you call her granny, Barbara ? Barbara. She asked me to, for practice. Don't you remember why } Colonel. I know ! Billy boy ! Barbara. Yes ! Now wait till I get your stick. Colonel. I don't need my stick while I'm sitting. Barbara. You look so beau'ful sitting holding your stick. \She knocks over his cushions^ Oh dear ! I am a clumsy. Colonel {politely). Not at all ; but perhaps if I were to do it for myself \he makes himself co^nfortable^ That's better. Thank you, Barbara. Barbara, /didn't do it. I'm all thumbs. What a ghastly nurse I should make. Colonel. Nurse! Who is she, Barbara .'* Barbara. Who is who, dear 1 Colonel. That nurse ? Barbara. There's no nurse here. Colonel. Isn't there ? Barbara. Where is granny? Colonel. She has gone down to the village to a wedding. Barbara. There's no wedding. Who could be being married ? Colonel. I think it's people I know, but I can't remember who they are. I thought you went, too, Barbara. Barbara. Not I. Colonel. You and the nurse. Barbara. Dear, you have just been thinking things again. Shall I play to you, or sing .<* \She knocks over a chair ^ Oh dear, everything catches in me. Would you like me to sing "Robin Adair," dear.? 24 ' REVEILLE Colonel (^polite, but firrn). No, thank you, Barbara. That is one of my wife's songs and it is rather sacred to me. She often sings it. She has such a sweet young voice. Barbara. Granny ? Colonel [defending the absentee^. Yes, granny, why not ? Barbara. Nothing, dear. Colonel. They used to come crowding into our bungalow at Lucknow when word went round that pretty Mrs. Venables was to sing ** Robin Adair." Barbara. I'm sure they did. Colonel {perturbed), Barbara, the house seems so empty. Where are Billy and Karl ? Barbara. Billy is where Karl is, you may be sure. Colonel. And where is Karl ? Barbara. He is where Billy boy is, you may be sure. Colonel. And where are they both } Barbara. Not far from where Barbara is, you bet. \A flute is heard.'] Do you hear Karl's flute ? They have been down all the morning at the pool where the alder is, trying to catch that bull-trout. Colonel {chuckling). They didn't get him, I'll swear! Barbara {looking out). You can ask them. Colonel. I spent a lot of my youth trying to get that bull-trout. I tumbled in there sixty years ago. Barbara. I tumbled in sixty minutes ago. Can't be the same trout, dear. Colonel. Same old rascal ! [Billy and Karl come in by the window, leaving a fishing rod outside. They are gay, careless, attractive youths, Karl has a German accent.] Barbara. You muddy things ! Colonel {gaily). Did you get the bull-trout, Billy boy ? Billy. He's a brute that ! Colonel. He is, you know ! Billy. Came up several times and had a look at my fly. Didn't flick it, or do anything as complimentary as that. Just yawned and went down. Colonel. Yawned, did he? Used to wink in my time. Did you and Billy fish at Heidelberg, Karl ? Karl {humorously). We were more worthily employed, sir, BARBARA'S WEDDING 25 Barbara. Drinking beer ? Karl. To our eternal friendship. Billy. Now then, Karl, stow it — no sentiment. Karl. I swear, sir, that by the hour of midnight he used to be the more sentimental of us two. Barbara. What was he sentimental about ? Colonel {^gleefully), I can guess — the frauleins ? Karl. You know, sir ! Colonel. I know ! Karl. We did unbend at times. Billy, do you remember } [He begins a gay dance.'] Billy. Not I ! {Then he joins in.] Barbara. Billy, how disgraceful. [She joins in.] Colonel. Harum-scarums ! EiLLY. Karl knows nothing of what true love is, grand- father. He has a locket beneath his waistcoat and snivels over it, and changes the lady about once a month. Karl. Does he know about you two ? Billy. He often forgets. Til tell him again. Grandfather, Barbara and I have something to say to you. It's this. [He puts his arm round Barbara and kisses her.] Colonel (smiling^. I know — I know. There's nothing like it. I'm very glad, Barbara. Barbara. You see, dear, I've loved Billy boy since the days when he tried to catch the bull-trout with a string and a bent pin, and I held on to his pinafore to prevent him tumbling in. We used to play at school at marrying and giving in marriage, and the girl who was my bridegroom had always to take the name of Billy. " Do you, woman, take this man Billy — " the clergyman in skirts began, and before I could answer diffidently some other girl was sure to shout, ** I should rather think she does." Karl. I have never witnessed an English marriage ceremony, and as I'm to be best man, now is my time to practise. Billy, don't move or I forbid the banns. You are the clergyman, sir, and the ceremony is proceeding. Colonel. Am I the clergyman ? Karl. You two have both said you do. That is easy. Now we approach the great moment. The bridegroom cannot find the rinor. 26 REVEILLE Billy. Rot ! Karl {to Billy), The ring, sir ! Barbara. Let him go on. Karl. In vain the wretched youth searches his pockets with trembling hand. Barbara. Search, Billy ; it's the least you can do for me. Karl. Alas, the poor bridegroom is now a rag. He bursts into tears. Colonel. Burst, Billy ! Karl. The best man has to prop him up. \He does so^ Colonel (in the spirit of it). Where is the ring, Billy boy? Karl. The poor idiot is now beyond replying. Slowly the clergyman unbuttons his gown. He says ** There will be no marriage to-day." Colonel {chuckling). I'm sorry for you, Billy, but it wouldn't be legal without the ring ! , Barbara. What am / doing all this time ^ Karl. You are despising him. Billy. I say — ! Karl. Silence ! The bride turns a face of agonized appeal to the person who is so well named the best man. [Barbara assists him.'\ Your arms beseech him. \She holds them out to Karl.'] He is touched. He has an inspiration. The ring of his keys ! He slips it into the hand of the now doddering bridegroom. Billy. Get out ! Barbara. Billy, please 1 \_She holds out her finger and Billy puts the ring on it.] Karl. Bless you, my children ! Colonel (in high good humour). You know when I was married I think I couldn't find the ring ! Karl. Were you married here, sir ? Colonel. Yes, at the village church. Billy. So were my father and mother. Colonel. I remember walking back with my wife and bringing her in here through the window. She kissed some of the furniture. Billy. I suppose you would like a grander affair, Barbara ? Barbara. No, just the same. Billy. I hoped you would say that. BARBARA'S WEDDING 27 Barbara. But, Billy, I'm going to have such a dream of a wedding gown. Granny is going with me to London to choose it — if you can do without her for a day, dear. Colonel. I shall go with you. I couldn't trust you and granny to choose the right gown. Karl. You must often be pretty lonely, sir, when we are all out and about enjoying ourselves. Colonel. They all say that. But that's the time when I'm not lonely, Karl. It's then I see things most clearly — the past, I suppose — it all comes crowding back to me. India, the Crimea, India again ; and it's so real, especially the people. They come and talk to me. I seem to see them. . I don't know they haven't been here, Billy, till your granny tells me afterwards. Billy. Yes, I know. I wonder where granny is ? Barbara. It isn't often she leaves you for so long, dear. Colonel {worried). She told me she had to go some- where, but I forget. Oh, yes. She has gone down to the village to a wedding. Billy. A wedding ? Barbara. It's curious how he harps on that. There couldn't be a wedding in the village without 7?iy knowing of it, dear. Colonel. She said to me to listen and I would hear the bells. Barbara. Not to-day, dear. Billy. Best not worry him. Barbara. But granny says we should try to make things clear to him. Billy. Was anyone with granny when she said she was going to a wedding ? Colonel. You were there, Barbara. [She shakes her head,'] Barbara. He said that to me before. And something about a nurse. Colonel. She was there. Billy. Anyone else ? Colonel. There was that soldier. Barbara. A soldier too ? Colonel. Just those three. Billy. But that makes four. Granny and Barbara and a nurse and a soldier. 28 REVEILLE Colonel. They were all there ; but there were only three Billy. Odd ! Barbara {soothingly). Never mind. Granny will make it all right. She's the one for you. Colonel. She's the one for me. Karl. If there had been a wedding, wouldn t she have taken him with her ? Barbara. Of course she would. Karl. You are not too old to have a kind eye for a wedding, sir? Colonel, Aha, aha ! You know, very likely I should have kissed the bride. Brides look so pretty on their wedding day. They're often not pretty at other times, but they are all pretty on their wedding day. Karl. You have an eye for a pretty girl still, sir ! Colonel. Yes, I have ; yes, I have ! Barbara. I do believe I see it all. Granny has been talking to you about Billy boy and me, and you haven't been able to wait ; you have hurried on the wedding ! Billy. Bravo, Barbara, you've got it. Colonel. That may be it. Because I am sure you were to be there, Barbara. Barbara. Exactly ! Our wedding, Billy. Karl. It doesn't explain those other people though. \The Colonel is agitated?^ , Barbara. What is it, dear ? Colonel. I can't quite remember, but I think that is why she didn't take me. It's your wedding, Barbara, but I don't think Billy boy is to be there, my love. Barbara. Not at my wedding } Billy. Grandfather ! Colonel. There's something sad about it. Barbara. There can't be anything sad about a wedding, dear. Granny didn't say it was a sad wedding, did she } Colonel. She was smiling. Barbara. Of course she was. Colonel. But I think that was only to please the nurse. Barbara. That nurse again ! Dear, don't think any more about it. There's no wedding. Colonel. Is there not .^^ \_Tke village wedding bells begin BARBARA'S WEDDING 29 to ring. The Colonel is triumphant.l I told you ! There is a wedding ! \^Tke bells ring on gaily. Billy and Barbara take a step nearer to each other, btct can go no closer. The bells ring on, and the three young people fade from the scene. When they are gone and he is alone the Colonel still addresses them.^ It's Barbara's wedding. Billy boy, why are you not at Barbara's wedding ? [Soon the bells stop. The Colonel knows that he is alone nozv, btit he does not understand it. The sun is shining brightly but he sits very cold in his chair. He is very glad to see his wife coming to him through the open window. She is a dear old lady and is dressed brightly, as becomes one who has been to a wedding. Her face beams to match her gown. She is really quite a happy woman again, for it is several years since any sorrozv struck her. No one understands the Colonel as she does, no one can soothe him and bring him> along out of his imaginings as she can.l Colonel. Ellen ! Granny. I am back again, John. It hasn't seemed very long, has it? Colonel. No, not long, Ellen. Had you a nice walk ? Granny. I haven't been for a walk. Don't you remember where I told you I was going, John ? Colonel. Yes, it was to a wedding. Granny {rather tremulously). You haven't forgotten whose wedding, have you ? Colonel. Tell me, Ellen. Granny. I have been seeing Barbara married, John. Colonel. Yes, it was Barbara's wedding. Ellen, why wasn't I there? Granny. I thought you might be a little troubled if you went, John. Sometimes your mind — not often, but sometimes if you are agitated — and then you think you see — people who aren't here any longer. Colonel. Yes, I know. I'm all right when you are with me, Ellen. Granny. I ran back to you, John. I was thinking of you all the time — even more than of Billy boy. Colonel {gaily). Tell me all about it, Ellen. Did Billy boy lose the ring ? We always said he would lose the ring ! so REVEILLE Granny (watching him closely). You've forgotten again, John. Barbara isn't married to Billy boy. Colonel (rising). Not marry Billy? I'll see about that. Granny. Sit down, dear, and I'll tell you something again. It's nothing to trouble you, because your soldiering is done, John ; and greatly done. My dear, there is war again, and our old land is in it. Such a war as my soldier never knew. Colonel. A war ! That's it, is it ? So now I know ! Why wasn't I told 1 Why haven't I my marching orders ? I'm not too old yet. Granny. Yes, John, you're too old, and all you can do now is to sit here and — and take care of me. You knew all about it quite clearly this morning. We stood together upstairs by the window listening to the aircraft guns. Colonel. I remember ! Bering told me he heard nothing. Granny. Bering ? Colonel. Our gardener, you know. Haven't I been talking with him, Ellen ? Granny. It's a long time since we had a gardener, John. Colonel. So it is ! I know. That's why there's no more cricket on the green. Granny. They have all gone to the war. Colonel. That's it, even the little shavefs. \He whispers'] Why isn't Billy boy fighting, Ellen ? Granny. Oh, John ! Colonel. Is Billy boy dead ? [She nods.] Was he killed in action ? Tell me, tell me ! [She nods — he moves about?^ Good for Billy boy. I knew Billy boy was all right. Bon't cry, Ellen. I'll take care of you. All's well with Billy boy. Granny. Yes, I know. Colonel. Ellen, who is the soldier? He comes here. He's a captain. Granny. He is a very gallant man, John. It is he who was married to Barbara to-day. Colonel (bitterly). She has soon forgotten. Granny. She hasn't forgotten, dear. And it's nearly three years now since Billy died. Colonel. So long ! We have a medal he got, haven't we? [She prodtices it.~\ Yes, of course. [He is proud of it /\ BARBARA'S WEDDING 31 Granny. I keep it with yours. Colonel. Karl will be sorry. They were very fond of each other, those two boys. Granny. Karl fought against us, you know. He died in the same engagement. They may even have killed each other. Colonel. They hadn't known, Ellen. Granny (with thin lips), I daresay they knew. Colonel. Billy boy and Karl ! Granny. John, I had Barbara married from here because she has no people of her own. I think Billy would have liked it. Colonel. That's all right. I remember everything now. It's Bering she has married. He was once my gardener. Granny. The world is all being re-made, dear. He is worthy of her. Colonel. Barbara is a nurse ! Granny. One of the staidest and most serene. Who would have thought it of the merry madcap of other days ! They are coming here, John, to say good-bye to you. They have only a few days' leave. She is in France, too, you know. She was married in her nurse's uniform. Colonel. Was she ? She told me to-day that — no, it couldn't have been to-day. Granny. You have been fancying you saw them, I suppose. You will be nice to them, John, won't you, and wish them luck.-^ They have their trials before them. Colonel. Yes — yes. Granny. And you won't say anything about Billy boy. Best not. Try to make it all smiles for Barbara on her wedding day. Colonel. That's the thing. Granny. And I wouldn't talk about the garden, John, just in case he is a little touchy about that. Colonel (who is beginning to fancy himself as a tactician). Not a word. Granny (jvho knows this is th^ way to put him on his mettle). You see, I'm sure I should make a mess of it, so I'm trustmg to you, John. Colonel (pleased), I'll be uncommon sly. You just watch me, Ellen. \_She goes to the window and calls to the married 32 REVEILLE couple. Captain Dering in khaki is a fine soldierly figure. Barbara in her Red Cross uniform is quiet and resourceful, in strange contrast to the hoyden of other days.~\ Granny. It's all right, Barbara. Colonel {an artful old boy). Congratulations, Barbara — no, no, none of your handshaking, you don't get past an old soldier that way. Excuse me, young man. [He kisses Barbara and looks at his wife to see if she is admiring him ; she beamsJ] And to you, Captain Dering — you have won a prize. Dering. I know it. I'll try to show I know it. Colonel. I haven't given Barbara a wedding present, Ellen. I should like — Barbara. Indeed, you have, dear, and a lovely one. You haven't forgotten ? [Granny signs to Colonel.~\ Colonel (cunningly). Oh — that ! I was just quizzing you. I hope you will be as happy, dear, staid Barbara, as if you had married — [He sees he has nearly given away the situa- tion, he looks triumphantly at Granny']. I'm not going to say a word about him — all must be smiles on Barbara's wedding day. Granny (to the rescue). Perhaps Colonel Dering has some little things to do, and you, too, Barbara. They are leaving in an hour, John. Colonel (to Dering), If you would like to take Barbara into the garden — [He realizes that he is on dangerous ground again. He nods reassuringly^ to his wife.'] No, not the garden, you wouldn't know your way about in the garden. Dering (smiling). Wouldn't I, Colonel ? Colonel, ns No, certainly not. I'll show it you some day. [He makes gleeful signs to Granny^ But there is a nice meadow just beyond the shrubbery. Barbara knows the way, she often went there with — [checks himself], [Granny signs to them to go.] Barbara. Dear ! [She kisses his hands,] Colonel. The Captain will be jealous, you know ! Barbara. Let me, dear. [She arranges his cushions professionally?^ Granny. She is much better at it than I am now, John. Colonel. I ^wouldn't go down by the stream, Barbara — not to the pool where the alder is. There's — there's not a BARBARA'S WEDDING 33 good view there, sir ; and a boy — a boy I know, he often — nobody in particular — ^just a boy who used to come about the house — he's not here now — he's on duty. I don't think you should go to the alder pool, Barbara. Barbara. We won't go there, dear. [SAe and Bering go OJ^L] Colonel {anxiously). Did I do all right, Ellen ? Granny. Splendidly ! I was proud of you. Colonel {triumphant). I put them completely off the scent ! They haven't a notion ! I can be very sly, you know, at times. Ellen, I think I should like to have that alder tree cut down. There is no boy now, you see. Granny. I would leave it alone, John. There will be boys again. Shall I read to you } You like that, don't you } Colonel. You won't sing " Robin Adair".'* Granny. Not nowadays, John ! Colonel. Read to me — something funny if you please. About Sam Weller ! No, I expect Sam has gone to the wars. Read about Mr. Pickwick. He's very amusing. [^He is chuckling,'] I feel sure if he had tried to catch the bull-trout he would have fallen in ! Just as Barbara did this morning. Granny. Barbara.^ Colonel. She is down at the alder pool. Billy is there with that nice German boy. The noise they make, shouting and laughing ! Granny {letting the matter rest — she has got the book now). Which bit shall I read .? Colonel {mirthful). About Mr. Pickwick going into the lady's bedroom by mistake ! Granny. Yes, dear, though you almost know it by heart. You see you have begun to laugh already. Colonel {trying to restrain himself). I can't help it. \She begins to read.] 34 BELLONA AND THE GENTLEST ART. By E. V. LUCAS. Letter-writing is one of the few industries which the war has improved. Ship-building, we are too often told, has deteriorated. Racing is scarcely what it was, and drinking is in its dotage. But letter-writing was never in better case. That the war should have brought letter-writing back to life is very natural, because it has set the sea between so many friends and relations. So long as our kith and kin are in our own country they seem near enough to neglect, but even the Straits of Dover will break down this feeling, apart from war altogether. War, however, changes all. War has changed London — it has, for example, substituted offices for the water in St. James's Park, all except that little enclosure where the pelicans lead their ungainly lives ; and it has changed letter-writing — restored it, in fact. The cruellest blow that letter-writing ever received was the rise of the newspaper. But the newspaper, although it can tell a soldier in France that another good officer has been dismissed, or that Stevenson and Reece are still hard at it, cannot tell him that the spaniel has had puppies again, or that his father hates the very sight of a girl clerk, or that his mother s rheumatism is really on the mend, or that his cousin Mary keeps his photograph under her pillow. These are the things he wants to know and only a letter can tell him. There is nothing surprising in the war intensifying letter- writing at home. The surprising thing is that it has made so many men of action take to the pen, and not only for the benefit of their relations and friends, but often for strangers too — so that this has become the most literary war that ever happened. At the beginning, some of us had a notion that it had been provoked in the interests of the tobacco trade ; but BELLONA AND THE GENTLEST ART 35 later on it was made perfectly clear that some big ink firm was at the back of it. Another circumstance that leads a civilian to suppose that all is now well with the epistolatory art and the Army is the disappearance from the personal column of the Times of advertisements asking strangers to correspond with lonely soldiers. Either soldiers are no longer lonely (and I must confess to having seen several of them with female companions) or they get all the letters they want. Or possibly those ladies who used to have time to write to them are now also soldiers themselves, or on the land. There are, when all is said, only two kinds of letters : those which we value for their communicativeness, and those which make good spills, and the communicative letter can be written by anyone. Education has nothing to do with it, as the following missive (which has been printed before) proves. It comes from the bag of an overworked pensions official. This gentleman, having to dole out allowances to the womenfolk of sailors, is naturally more than usually liable to the receipt of appeals — ports being so numerous. The letter runs thus (note the tactical skill of the opening) : — " Respected Sir, Dear Sir, — Though I take this liberty as it leaves me at present I beg to ask if you will kindly be kind enough to let me know where is my husbin though he is not my legible husbin has he as a wife though he says she is ded. But I don't think he nos for sure but we are not marryd though I am getting my allotment reglr which is no fault of Mr. Loy George who would stop it if he could and Mr. McKenna but if you know where he is as he is belong to the Royal Fling Corp for ever since he hev joined in the January when he was sacked for talking back at his bos which was a woman at the Laundry where he worked. I have not had any money from him since he joined though he told Mr. Harris that lives on the ground floor that he was a pretty officer for six shillings a week and lots of under closin for the cold wether and I have Three children whats is being the father of them though he says it was my fault. Hoping you will write to me soon and you are quite well as it leaves me at present I must now close hoping you are well." Looking carefully at that document, which is authentic, we discern two things. One is that it is illiterate, and the other — very confounding to Mr. H. A. L. Fisher — that it could not 36 REVEILLE present the case much, if any, better, if it were written by a B.A. Another example, now printed for the first time, comes from India, where (among the Baboos) most of the best letters have long been written. It is the appeal of a Hindoo warrior (lately a conscientious objector, but now having changed his mind) for a chance to fight the Germans. It is dated from Udaipur, November ii, 19 17, and with European pedantry I have supplied a little punctuation : — ** Sir, — I want to addmit in war as a valiantier therefore pleace allow to addmit me in the arrmy. Answered me as sharp as you can. First I deny to come because here is my relition not to allow me to addmit me in war. When you done stickness with me then I will shourly come. I wright this latter frome my will not saying anyone therefore pleace jion me in your arrmy as sharp as you can. It you not jion me in 15 days I will done suicid and died upon you. '• My address is this, &c." That has the right spirit ! We find lion-heartedness again in a letter from a Japanese settler in Vancouver who recently came to the conclusion that it was time to join the Allies. An advertisement for a second-hand marine engine, similar to one which he was prepared to sell, prompted the epistle, from which I take a few salient and admirable sentences : — " I was educated in most excellent high school in Japan, and in high hope of my condition bettering made my resolution and embarked for this nation. But things do not find themselves thus. Bad time eventuated, and by necessity your servant most obediently fished on Fraser River the salmon. Too much dam Scottishmen there. Excuse me I beseech you my colloquial phraseplogy " I have signal honor to fight for this land and am distributing my property before I depart to encounter common foe, dam Hun, excuse me. Price 95 dollars." That letter appeared first in the Vancouver World and I have since quoted it elsewhere. The following example of Baboo importunity, addressed to the officer commanding a certain regiment, is, I believe, new : — " Honoured Master, — Having heard of your almighty mercy and ^loving kindness to us worms I tell you my circumstances. By the Grace of God and your Lordship I have seven children, all babes and suckhngs. Besides this abominable litter I have many male and BELLONA AND THE GENTLEST ART 37 female relations. What have I done that I should be blessed with such cursed trials ? As your Lordship is our father and mother, I would request that you will take this worm and wife and suckless relations, both male and female, and provide for us from your bounty at a remuneration of 20 rupees a month. I cannot read or write, and have only the suckle qualifications and male relations and feminme ; but by the Grace of God and your Lordship I look forward to years of prosperity and happiness. All the Chaoni Deoli sing of your praises your justice and mercy, therefore call us all that we may fatten on your love and gentleness. Call quickly. " Your faithful worm and beast, " Neerna Lal. " Despical brute and unwilling father of babes." That is the Hindoo who wants money. Here is one who wants pleasure. Writing on November 9, 191 7, to a firm of job masters in Calcutta, he says : — " Dear Sir, — It is to approach you for a kind consideration. I am a student. I want a carriage either a tandaum or phaeton for evening drive now and then but not every day. It is to know from you whether you allow your carriages to be engaged for part of a day • say from 5 to 9 or 10 in the evening and if the answer be in the affirmative at what rate you do so. If you have no such rule will you be kind enough to consider the case of a young man who wants a carriage for joy-driving. It rests solely with you and be good and kind enough to grant him what he wants. As regards charges in the first instance let me tell you and which you perhaps know thoroughly well that the student is generally poor but merry, the best for him is to have it free of any charge " Sincerely yours, ." No manual of letter-writing could improve upon the direct- ness of that ; while in persuasiveness it is also fully armed. Once upon a time it was only women who made a habit of reading to other people extracts from letters received. But the war has taught men to do it too. Everything being altered, it follows that most fathers that you meet have in their pockets a letter from a son who knows much more about the tactics of the enemy than Ludendorff himself. To read little bits from their sons' letters in rivalry with each other has become one of the few pleasures left to men past fighting age. That is why all soldiers ought to write home. 39 Note. — The Authors alone are responsible for the views expressed in their articles , PENSIONS ADMINISTRATION. By the Right Hon. JOHN HODGE, M.P. (Minister of Pensions.) The Department of the Ministry of Pensions is only a year and a half old, yet it has grown to a prodigious size. It was built up hurriedly round a small nucleus of experienced officials, some of whom laboured in the early months of the War under the stress of a vast and accumulating flow of work which threatened to overwhelm them. The system had to be changed, and this was achieved, not without difficulty, by the painful process of breaking with departmental traditions and scrapping the old worn-out and cumbrous machinery. Pensions were then brought under the control of a new Executive Department direcdy responsible to Parliament, and confusion gave place to order. Origin and Organization of the Ministry. Under the Ministry of Pensions Act (December 22, 19 16) the newly constituted Ministry, on February 15, 19 17, took over the award and issue of pensions from the Admiralty, the Army Council, and the Chelsea Commissioners. The new Department was organized originally in eight separate branches — awards to officers ; to widows and dependants ; to sailors ; to soldiers ; treatment, training, and employment ; organization establishment ; accounts and audit ; issue of pensions. The present organization is on similar lines, though some of the old branches have been divided up and new ones formed to deal with the provision of artificial limbs and artificial appliances. The staff has expanded greatly since February 15, 1917. At that date it consisted of 221 men and 2,075 women. On June 5, 19 18, ^yS men and 6,094 women were employed by the Ministry. The pre- ponderance of women is very great, and of the male staff more 40 REVEILLE than 200 have been on active service. Included in the above totals are 114 men and 2,013 women at the Soldiers' Awards Branch, Chelsea, and 19 men and 2,408 women at the Pensions Issue Office, Baker Street. These figures show the enormous dimensions of the work which goes on steadily from day to day in the Ministry of Pensions, and they do not include the thousands of men and women who give their services on the 350 Local War Pensions Committees, that are an essential part of pensions administration. Some Statistical Facts. The total estimated expenditure for the year 1918-19 is ^46,000,000, or about a quarter of the entire national expendi- ture before the War. The Royal Warrant of April, 19 18, added ;^3, 800,000 to the original estimate of ;^4 1 , 500,000, and about /*7oo,ooo is required for increasing the pensions of men disabled, and the widows of men killed, in previous wars. In one week recently more than 18,000 pensions and allowances were awarded to disabled men, widows, children, and dependants, and for some weeks the average was between 15,000 and 16,000. A gigantic series of administrative and clerical operations is involved. It must be remembered that at Chelsea and elsewhere awards are made only after minute examination of each case and that the issue at Baker Street requires an entirely separate handling and re-handling of the individual awards. When one tries to realize the magnitude of this great organization which has existed for so short a time, one marvels, not that there should be mistakes, but that there are so few. A process of re-organization and subdivision has recently been proceeding at Chelsea under the direction of Sir Woodburn Kirby, resulting already in a more rapid adjustment of awards. The Pensions Issue Office was established on a sound working basis by the same officer some time ago. During a single week recently the number of soldiers' pension cases dealt with was 5,348, including 43 rejected under previous warrants. Of the total 4,272 were awarded pensions, permanent and temporary, 1,020 were granted gratuities by way of weekly allowances or otherwise, and 56 were rejected. PENSIONS ADMINISTRATION 41 It is a remarkable and gratifying fact that the rejections which, prior to the introduction of the 19 17 Royal Warrant, averaged 31 per cent, of the total claims, have since that date dropped to just under o*6 per cent, of the claims. This is largely due to the recognition of disablement "aggravated " by war service, and to the fact that gratuities are now allowed in cases where the wound, injury, or disease, causing discharge, is not attributable to military service. Of the soldiers' claims previously rejected 18,546 have since been admitted (as at June 5), 1,960 being met by the award of pensions, and 16,586 by gratuities or weekly allowances. Under the new Royal Warrant a very substantial benefit was conferred on parents, and the record of one week shows that the pre-war dependence pensions of 96 parents in pecuniary need have been raised from an average of 6s. a week to iis. lod., whilst 92 parents who had not been dependent on their sons but who were in need have been awarded on the average a pension of 9s. yd, a week. Alternative Pensions. An example will show how men are benefited by the introduction of the Alternative Pension based on pre-war earnings. Such permanent and conditional alternative pensions have been awarded to disabled men to an annual value of ;^84,055 as against ;^49,20i — the annual value of disablement pensions previously enjoyed by those men, together with children's allowances, showing that the men have benefited on the average to the extent of about 71 per cent. In the case of widows' alternative pensions the awards represent an annual value of ;^ 173,834, as against ^124,310, the annual value of the previous flat-rate pensions together with children's allowances. The average increase is here roughly 40 per cent, and this percentage will show an upward tendency as the " two- thirds " provision of the new Royal Warrant takes effect. Recent Improvements. On another page appears a summary of the new Royal Warrant, which in several respects marks a distinct advance upon the Royal Warrant of March, 191 7. The principal 42 REVEILLE changes are the increases of children's allowances and widows' alternative pensions. The maximum children's allowances were raised to 6s. 8d. for the first child, 5s. for the second, and 4s. 2d. for each of the others. The previous rates were, 5s., 4s. 2d., and 3s. 4d., for the first three children, and 2s. 6d. for each of the others. Pensions to motherless children were increased from 7s. and 6s. to not exceeding los. and 9s. 2d., the second figure being for each child after the first, when two or more are maintained by the same person. The pension to the illegitimate child was raised from 5s. to 6s. 8d. The alternative pension to a widow is now calculated on two-thirds instead of one-half of the alternative pension that would have been payable to the husband had he lived and remained incapable of earning. More generous treatment, too, has been provided for parents. Formerly, a pension was awarded to a parent or parents only if there had been pre-war dependence, or if the parents were wholly or partially incapable of self-support from infirmity or age and the son had been a scholar or apprentice. Now the parent or parents may in any event receive a pension if incapable of self-support from age or infirmity and in pecuniary need. This pension may vary from 3s. 6d. to 15s. a week. If there are two parents, and two or more sons have been killed, each of the parents may if there was pre-war dependence receive a pension equal to the dependence up to 1 5s. a week. Where the dependence was over 30s., in the case of two or more sons, each of the parents receives 15s. a week. Previously, two parents could only receive one pension, although there might be an additional gratuity. Another improvement was the granting of free medical treatment to men whose disability is not attributable to service, along with full allowances to their families during treatment. To bridge over the gap between discharge and the fixing of their pensions and gratuities, men are now automatically given an allowance of 27s. 6d. a week during the intervening period together with full children's allowances. Under the 19 17 Warrant men only received 14s. a week without children's allowances. The grant of ^10 for tools is another useful provision. PENSIONS ADMINISTRATION 43 After Care. It is not claimed^ that the State has yet, even in money compensation, done all that it can or ought to do for the disabled soldier and his family, but a great distance has been travelled along the right road. There appear to be two distinct views of the policy which should underlie the award of pensions. Many people contend quite seriously that, not only a totally disabled man, but a man whose disablement interferes appreciably with his efficiency as a wage earner, should be made independent of employment for the rest of his days. The other view, accepted in most countries, is that, however well merited the pension, it should never, in the interests of the 7^ecipient as well as of the State, be so great as to take away all incentive to work. All I would venture to say on the matter is that His Majesty's Government, the Ministry of Pensions, and Parliament, have endeavoured to follow standards which are free from reproach on the ground either of niggardliness or imprudent benevolence. Most of us cordially detest rigid systems under which a patent hardship cannot be redressed because a strict interpreta- tion of a regulation forbids it. Regulations there must be, but, when dealing with the comfort and happiness of hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children, in all conditions of life, those regiilations should be framed on a generously broad basis, and the official interpretation of them inspired by sympathy and a willingness to concede the benefit of the doubt. The regulations of the Ministry have been frequently modified and numerous instructions issued to Local Committees, widen- ing their discretionary powers under the main enactments which govern the award of pensions, grants, allowances, &c. Personal Interest. I trust it may be possible in future to associate with the payment of pensions an even greater solicitude for the social well-being of the recipients — I mean something quite different from the great reconstructional work of the Ministry known officially as " Treatment " and " Training," or the disbursement of voluntary funds. Whilst the hospitals and other institutions are full of dis- 44 REVEILLE abled soldiers, 7,000 men are now undergoing courses of vocational training provided by the Ministry and other agencies ; while nearly 8,000 have been fully trained and with few excep- tions placed in employment. Not only those men but thousands of other discharged soldiers, their women folk and children, and the families of men who have fallen in the war, want befriending. God knows, in every town and hamlet there are homes unspeakably saddened, some almost beyond hope of brightening. A handshake and a kind word to a suffering soul are oftentimes more welcome than gifts of money. A real, sympathetic, and confidential interest in the affairs of a stricken household, if entirely free from meddling curiosity, may be a priceless thing. This sphere of personal endeavour is one in which the State perhaps cannot do very much, yet so far as it touches the fringes of State direction a great deal has already been done to foster and help all efforts of a local and personal kind. I sincerely hope that through Local Committees and the members of those Committees, voluntary institutions and asso- ciations of various kinds, including associations of discharged men working in co-operation, churches, and private individuals, a new spirit of comradeship, understanding, and help, based on recognition of the enormous sacrifices which the war has entailed, may be further promoted and encouraged. Care of the Children. The Ministry has introduced many ameliorative measures, but I have no space even to outline them. I will give onlv one instance of what I mean by the fringes of State directiof# Quite recently a circular was issued to the Local Committees with regard to motherless children of sailors and soldiers who have lost their lives in the war. The object of the circular was to ascertain what could be done to ensure that those children were living in proper homes, and that their care, upbringing, and training for employment were satisfactory. The Ministry felt that they had a special responsibility in this matter. The Minister has had no particular power of guardianship over the children. He might only attach conditions to the administration of their pensions, and no doubt by that means something could be done in the interests of the children, but PENSIONS ADMINISTRATION 45 Parliament is to be asked to increase his powers. Even* with greater powers he will have to depend a great deal upon the individual influence of those who interest themselves locally in this welfare work. One of the very first objects is to secure, through the Local Committees who are acquainted with local conditions, that the children under the care of Poor Law authorities should be removed and boarded out with private families or in homes other than Poor Law institutions, and that constant attention should be given to the'welfare of the children. All orphans, and children who are motherless, but whose fathers are still serving, are to be regarded as deserving of special care. Voluntary Fund. I have endeavoured to indicate in general terms the magni- tude of the Ministry's work, and to supply some fresh informa- tion about the administration of pensions. I have purposely made only a passing reference to the restoration and re-education of disabled men. These subjects are dealt with in other articles by Sir John Collie and Major Mitchell. I cannot conclude, however, without a sentence about the Voluntary Fund which is administered by the Minister of Pensions. The nation is deeply sensible of the magnificent generosity displayed by its wealthier citizens. Hospitals, con- valescent homes, hostels, training centres, and many other voluntary agencies bear testimony to their lofty and patriotic purpose. I would beg of others less well endowed with riches to join the glorious band of givers. The Voluntary Fund in charge of the Minister fits in where the State pensions leave off. It is used almost exclusively to set up disabled men in small businesses for which they are suited, and no subscription is too small. The Fund has been sanctified by a poor widow's donation of sixpence. More than a thousand men have already been assisted with gifts of £2^ or less — sufficient to enable them to stock their little shops or pay the first years rent. The possibilities of this beneficent fund are infinite, and I look to the great commercial centres to support my effort to raise ^3,000,000. It is a big task, but I do not despair. I have received ;^ 100,000. I only want thirty times as much, and 150,000 disabled men will benefit. 46 RESTORATIVE TREATMENT UNDER THE MINISTRY OF PENSIONS. By Sir JOHN COLLIE, M.D., C.M.G. {Director of Medical Service.) The great majority of people are inclined to say : '* Let the State do it," when any particularly complex and difficult task has to be performed, and to think that, at the uttering of this "Abracadabra," the desired result will follow. If only those who deal with difficulties in this airy way would realize that the body whose aid they have invoked is simply a collection of units like themselves, and that the measure of its potentiality is not the number of tasks committed to it, but the resources placed at its disposal ! The State is already charged with burdens of a magnitude far surpassing anything ever contemplated, and the duty of providing treatment for discharged men has to be performed with due regard to other exigencies of national life. Although better results will be obtained by dealing with the question publicly, rather than by leaving it to private philanthropy and private enterprise, it by no means follows that all, or even the greater part, of the difficulties brought about by the present abnormal circumstances, can be overcome. National require- ments have still to be considered as a whole, and our resources used In accordance with relative needs. Criticism has not been lacking, some of it most helpful, much of it quite unregardful of the difficulties which have been, and are still to be encountered, and rather hampering than otherwise. If it had been possible to organize the service before the contingency arose, much more satisfactory results could have been obtained ; but organization and performance had perforce to proceed hand in hand, a course which inevitably delays, if it does not prevent, the realization of the best results. With RESTORATIVE TREATMENT 47 a free hand, unlimited resources, and a definite number of specific cases to be arranged for, the task of the Ministry would have been difficult. With these conditions entirely absent, something short of perfection is inevitable. Funds» for instance, are not unlimited. Extremely liberal provision has been made for pensions and allowances, amounting to a sum which would have made us stagger before we became accustomed to thinking in millions ; but the very largeness of this amount, in conjunction with the other commitments of the State, has compelled the closest scrutiny of all proposals for capital expenditure. When the war is over, too, a very large amount of accommodation, material, and personnel will be set free, and we can then deal far more effectually with the require- ments of the disabled. So that, even if it were possible, it would not be wise to make arrangements which would exclude the use of the resources set free when peace comes. We must do our utmost now to deal with the urgent needs of the day. But only when the strain on the national effort is relaxed shall we be able to approach the ideal we all have — the giving of our best in treatment and compensation to those disabled in the Country's service. To appreciate the position correctly, we must consider pre-war conditions, the demands of the war, and the difficulties brought by the war. In pre-war days the provision for institutional treatment of the sick and injured was quite inadequate for the ordinary needs of the civil population, and reflected little credit on the nation. Scarcely a civil hospital but had a long waiting list. The vital importance of preserving health and remedying physical defects had only just begun to be dimly recognized, except by the few who had laboured strenuously, and with the beginnings of success, to awaken the nation. Medical science was making rapid strides, but no provision for a systematic supply of medical skill had been made. Haphazard adjust- ments between supply and demand regulated the service, and the demand came from a people but half educated to the need for national health. Then came the war, with its enormous multiplication of requirements from medical and surgical skill, and from hospital accommodation. By a strange absence of foresight, medical 48 REVEILLE students were permitted to relinquish their training and take up arms. The toll of the battlefield has been heavy even on the medical service ; and doctors cannot be trained in a week, a month, a year. The number of medical men is greatly reduced from the pre-war standard ; the number of cases to be dealt with has increased to an unimaginable extent. Thus, even if institutions could be provided at will, the problem of staffing them would still remain. Consider too the nature of the injuries and complaints to be dealt with. The disablements of this war are not such as usually come within the purview of the general practitioner. Neurasthenia, for example, was the special study of the few, and even they have learned much that is new of this disorder from the prevalence of shell-shock. The pulmonary and other troubles brought by those abomina- tions, poison and lachrymatory gases, were almost unknown to medical science, and have had to be studied specially. Prior to this wholesale manufacture of cripples and maimed men, the need for orthopaedic treatment was so small that specialists in that branch of remedial surgery were but few. The untiring energy and devotion with which these medical problems have been faced and solved is one of the many marvels of this war. Even when Kitchener's Army of 500,000 men was being raised, hospitals had to be improvised, and all available medical institutions commandeered. To-day we have an army at least ten times as large. Accommodation and service has now to be secured for tens of thousands of discharged men. Consider some of the problems with which the Ministry is faced. Many of the men discharged are totally disabled and need constant care, many require prolonged treatment, while others are able to resume their normal life subject to receiving some medical attention. Obviously it was desirable that all discharged men should return to their homes and be treated as near to them as possible. To deal with them centrally, there- fore, was impossible, although it would probably have been a much simpler task. Even when tens of thousands are spread over the entire Kingdom, there are not very large numbers in any given area. The complaints from which the men suffer vary so that no single large institution can deal with them all ; arrangements have to be made to utilize or extend existing accommodation, RESTORATIVE TREATMENT 49 and use such medical skill as is available. This is not easy. Existing institutions were not even adequate for the needs of the civil population. Some priority of treatment for the dis- charged man, second only to the serving soldier, is now gener- ally assured, but it means starving civilian requirements. Most of the medical service at these institutions is honorary ; the State thinks it unfair to make further calls on gratuitous service, for treatment of the discharged man, and allows a percentage of the rates paid to the hospitals to be used for remuneration of the medical staff. Forty, thirty, or even twenty cases in an area awaiting treatment sometimes elicit strong protests and urgent demands for new accommodation to be provided. A little thought should convince that it is impossible to establish a separate unit for a few cases ; the only course is to increase the accommodation at some large centre which will permit readjustment and allow those cases to be gradually absorbed. Resolutions, that in view of this, that, and the other the Ministry be urged to do so-and-so are only helpful when accompanied by concrete proposals put forward after careful consideration of the needs and possible methods of meeting them. Vague resolutions are often but tacit admissions that the difficulties are almost insurmountable, and the task is therefore passed on. The demands made for the requirements of disabled men have to be considered in relation to the vital necessities of the country. Restrictions imposed on the community at large apply almost as much to the accommodation of discharged men. No special store of building and other materials is available for this purpose, nor any free supply of labour. It has been almost impossible, too, to frame accurate estimates of cost Estimates are got out for the erection and equipment of iDuildings, and before the contracts are placed the labour market changes, and lo ! the estimates are far below the actual cost. An individual can meet small troubles like this by diving a little deeper into his pocket. But a department has no pocket of its own. Again, there are all the little troubles and trials — which business men know so well — the troubles of creating the staff of a new department, of filling vacancies efficiently, even the 4 50 REVEILLE * shortage of typewriters and office equipment in these days — all such trifles are clogs on effective working, and particularly irritating in matters of great urgency. Then, circumstances change with such rapidity in these exceptional days. Frequently when much time has been spent in bringing a project almost to completion, something totally unexpected occurs, and we have to begin all over again. In fact, the conditions are so abnormal, and the over-riding necessity of supplying the needs of the fighting force is so insistent, that anyone who views the situation in all its aspects will be more likely to wonder that anything has been accom- plished than cavil at what has been done. One cannot plunge precipitately into all kinds of schemes ; the only sound policy is to test the efficiency of a proposal before putting it into practice on a large scale. Take, for instance, arrested cases of tubercu- losis. No better provision could be made for them than farm colonies, and farm colonies have been provided ; but such attractive wages are now being ofTered men really unfit for the work they undertake, that it is extremely difficult to get them to forego this apparent benefit and enter on a course of training which would be for their ultimate good. And so these farm colonies are not being taken advantage of to the extent that was expected. However, such conditions will not prevail for ever, and many farm colonies will be needed later, and the experience so far gained will be extremely valuable. Another difficulty is the undesirability, for several reasons, of treating service patients and discharged men in the same institutions. Such are some of the many knotty points we have to deal with. The following brief record of accomplishment shows what the Ministry has been able to effect in spite of obstacles. Regard must be had to the fact that the Medical Service Department has been established but a very short time. The figures given relate to the work to the end of May. Hospitals, — Negotiations have been entered into with all existing institutions, and arrangements concluded with more RESTORATIVE TREATMENT 51 than 360 hospitals, either general or special, for the treatment of discharged men ; and though in these hospitals no definite number of beds have been promised, it is usually understood that, where possible, priority will be accorded. In many cases, too, special times will be set apart for the treatment of dis- charged men as out-patients. At other hospitals 1,470 beds are to be definitely assigned for discharged men ; these alone should accommodate 15,000 to 16,000 men annually; for, at a fair average computation, each bed represents ten or eleven men accommodated in the course of the year. At present, forty-nine institutions of various kinds have been either provided by the Ministry direct, or placed at its disposal by philanthropic individuals or societies. These give 1,562 beds, and of course provide treatment accommodation for a very large number of men each year ; and forty-five more institutions are in cours.c: of provision with a capacity of about 1,550 beds. Arrange- ments have been made with several sanatoria, nursing homes, and hospitals for the treatment of officers. Tuberculosis. — Ordinary cases come under the National Health Commissioners, but in view of the particular hardship entailed on discharged m.en so afflicted, the Treasury has arranged to make a grant in each case, which secures priority of sanatorium treatment. In addition, the Ministry charges itself with the care of those cases over which the Insurance Commissioners have no power : that is advanced cases, and those which, having undergone a period of sanatorium treat- ment, require after-care. Special pavilions are being provided for some of the advanced cases, and will shortly be available. The farm colonies at Polton, Papworth, and Walkington are dealing with the arrested cases, and the colony at Kinson is now open. Sanction has been obtained to the expenditure of about ;^20,ooo a year on the domiciliary visiting of discharged tuberculous men with a view to examination and advice, so that their health may be maintained. Special nourishment is also provided for those who require it. Ort hopes dies. — It has been arranged that for orthopaedic treatment of discharged men the Ministry of Pensions shall open annexes in connection with the Military orthopaedic hospitals. This will provide about 1,200 beds, and treatment will be given under the supervision of the eminent surgeons 52 REVEILLE who control the Military hospitals. In addition, 444 beds in civil orthopaedic hospitals have been placed at the disposal of the Ministry, and a further 250 are in course of provision. In orthopaedic cases it may be taken that a bed accommodates eight or nine patients per annum. A large amount of out- patient treatment is required in orthopaedic cases, and clinics for this purpose have been or are being established at con- venient centres throughout the country, at which massage, electrical treatment, and the necessary gymnastic apparatus will be provided. The supply of skilled masseurs has presented considerable difficulty, but an arrangement has now been made for a joint Board of representatives from the War Office, Pensions Ministry, Almeric Paget Institute and Incorporated Society of Masseurs, to supervise the qualifications of masseurs, and arrange for their distribution in the areas where their services are required. Facial Injuries. — An extra hut has been provided at Frognal, and twenty-five beds are placed permanently at the disposal of the Ministry for dealing with the more serious cases of facial injury. The services of specialists will thus be available. Paraplegics, — For paraplegics 337 beds have already been provided and arrangements are being rapidly pushed on for further accommodation. It is intended to provide in every county, or pension area, one or more small houses containing from twenty to twenty-five beds, expressly for these cases. Epileptics. — Farm colonies for epileptics have been estab- lished at Lingfield, Monyhull, and Maghull ; about 280 dis- charged men suffering from epilepsy are being treated in the various institutions. Neurasthenia. — The treatment of neurasthenia has received special attention. It has been found desirable that the institu- tional treatment for this malady should be given before the men are discharged from the Army, and it has now been arranged that the Army Medical Department shall establish several special institutions, on the lines of the Golder's Green Home of Recovery. When this is done, the homes already established for discharged men suffering from neurasthenia at Golder's Green ; Leicester Firth ; Woodbourne, Cheshire ; Cairngorm, Belfast; Leopardstown Park, Dublin; andCraig-end, RESTORATIVE TREATMENT 53 Edinburgh ; and those to be opened shortly at Bray Court, Maidenhead ; Allerton Towers, Liverpool ; and Allerton Hall, Leeds, will suffice, and eventually some of them may even be used for other purposes. Certain selected neurasthenic cases have been received into country houses under a scheme put forward by some philanthropic ladies and gentlemen, and careful observation is being made of the results of this experiment. The Special Medical Board at Lancaster Gate for shell- shock, &c., and its Branch at Liverpool, are now examining on an average 640 cases a week. The Pensions Survey Board are examining a weekly average of 459 cases. The Branch dealing with^ exceptional cases, alleged inadequacy of treatment, refusal of treatment, complaints as to decisions on allowances by Local Committees, has to consider about 300 cases a day, and the number is increasing. A special Psycho-therapeutic Out-patient Clinic for cases 01 functional nerve disease has been established in connection with the special Medical Board at Lancaster Gate, and many cures have been effected by this means which prolonged hospital treatment had failed to achieve. The results obtained seem to justify the institution of several clinics in other parts of the country where suitable arrangements can be made. The dental treatment of discharged men will, in future, be undertaken on behalf of the Ministry by the Ivory Cross Society, which has a large panel of dentists whose services are available for the purpose. I refrain from referring in detail to plans which are now under consideration, reserving any description until they come to fruition. This brief record also omits the thousand and one details which occur in connection with such a complex service, ranging from the decision of minute points on the construction of the Royal Warrant, down to applications for petrol licences, and priority certificates for geysers. 54 REVEILLE Appendix. Convalescent homes Homes and colonies for epileptics Facial injuries Farm colonies (tuberculosis) General hospitals and infirmaries... Heart hospitals Homes for dying and incurables ... Homoeopathic institutions ... Hydropathic institutions ... Neurasthenia and nervous disorders Nursing homes Orthopaedics ... Paraplegics ... Rheumatism and allied diseases ... Skin diseases Throat, nose, ear and eye Tuberculosis Number of Institutions, &c. ... 58 7 I 3 ... 266 I 2 4 3 12 7 ... 29 12 8 3 ... 19 ... 24 459 The above is a classified list of the institutions which were available on May 31, 1918, for the treatment of discharged men; it includes forty- nine provided by or through the Ministry, and forty-two in which a definite number of beds are reserved for pensioners. Over 290 of them have been arranged for since January i, 1918. There are about forty more institutions in course of provision, the arrangements for which are more or less complete. From this table the magnitude and recent rapid extension of the work can be judged. — Editor. 55 FOR OUR DISABLED. By Major ROBERT MITCHELL, C.B.E. {Director of Training under the ^Ministry of Pensions.) History tells us that after our great wars large numbers oi our soldiers who had fought for their Mother-country were allowed to sink into obscurity and to die in poverty and extreme misery. Such was the experience after the great Napoleonic War, after the Crimean, and — though perhaps in a lesser degree — the South African War. Veterans who had shed their blood and suffered for the Empire, and who through disablement or sickness were deemed incapable of further service, were allowed to drift into almshouses, hostels, and workhouses, uncared for and unheeded. No chance was given them of using the strength left them in proving themselves capable of self-support, though in numberless cases their physical infirmities were not so great as to shut them off altogether from the ranks of industry, where, if only in restricted ways, they might well have earned some kind of living. At the outbreak of the present war in that memorable autumn of 1914, none could see how stern and enduring would be the conflict, nor how many wounded, mentally or physically, would be prevented from resuming their former work in the fields and workshops of our country. At that time the problem of the disabled soldier was but a phantom in the minds of men. Only when the severely wounded of our little army of " contemptibles " cured medically and discharged from military service went back to civil life, unable to resume their former occupations owing to physical unfitness, did this need of training our brave disabled stand out in all its reality and vividness. Since then more than forty months of war have emphasized the significance and gravity of this need, which increases with each day of the struggle. Happily, Public Opinion and the Government soon realized 56 REVEILLE their responsibility for the future careers of these men. It was felt that we owed them more than a pension, that we owed them health (if health were possible for them), a sure place in the world, and ^portunities by which they might be able to supplement their poor income, and spend the rest of their lives in reasonable content. It was under this impulse that the Ministry of Pensions began to devise a scheme by which our 'disabled soldiers and sailors, unable to continue their previous employment could fit themselves, by study under proper guidance, for full civic usefulness. The practical problem of training presented itself under four headings : — (t) The task of getting the disabled to enrol for training. (2) The direction of them into suitable courses of training. (3) The actual training for future occupations. (4) The placing in suitable occupations, when trained. (i) Enrolment for Training. The number of disabled sailors and soldiers capable of benefiting by a course of training has been estimated at from 50 to 60 per cent, of the total ; the majority of injuries sustained are not of such a nature as to prevent men from becoming useful again in civil life. Among those capable of being trained there are naturally some who prefer to live in idleness on their pensions and the generosity of the public. Fortunately they are exceptions. Nevertheless, at the outset the request for training was small, and is even now far below the figure of those who could be trained with advantage. There are many reasons which contribute towards this, and three of these causes — the first two of which we have to some extent succeeded in removing — are : — Ignorance of the real benefits to be derived from a course of training. The fear in many that by getting trained they might lose some of their pension. The great demand at present for unskilled labour at high rates of pay. The ignorance was natural enough, for very few people, even aniong the educated, knew, before the lessons of this war, FOR OUR DISABLED 57 that it was possible in a few months to make a boot-maker, a tailor, a watch-repairer, a fitter, a book-keeper, &c., out of men who had followed totally different trades or occupations. This ignorance is now abating. The fear of losing a portion of their pensions, which so often kept disabled men from taking training, was natural enough too. But it was entirely without foundation, and the Pensions Minister has clearly and emphati- cally stated that the training of the disabled will not leadin any way to an alteration in the amount of pensio7i received. It is further anticipated that as the demand at high wages for unskilled labour decreases the demand for traininsf will increase. (2) Guidance as to the Choice of a Calling. When a disabled sailor or soldier is capable of being trained, the choice of the most suitable occupation, and one to which he is naturally inclined, is vital. In some cases an applicant is able to resume work in the same branch of trade. A cabinet-maker, for instance, who has lost a leg, can often remain in his own trade by undergoing a specialized course of training for the position, say, of draughtsman or wages clerk. But in most cases the disabled man must be started in some entirely new calling. His former occupation should of course be taken into account. Often the new apprenticeship will be made easier if his new calling has some resemblance to his old. A joiner who has lost two limbs might become a wood-carver or locksmith. But a man can often take up a trade utterly different from that which he previously followed. In choosing, then, a new calling for a disabled man, consider : — The nature and degree of the disablement. The personal inclinations of the disabled, especially if he has a strong preference for a particular trade. Choose a simple calling which, if possible, can be quickly learnt, and gives promise of a fair remuneration, and the assurance of a permanent employment. Take Into consideration the man's social circumstances, and choose an occupation which fits in as far as possible with his old life. SS REVEILLE (3) Actual Training for Future Employment. So far as the men have come forward, the results achieved by our schemes of training have been most encouraging. Including those trained at St. Dunstan's, Lord Roberts's Memorial Workshops, and under the Ministry of Munitions, 15,000 men have adopted some form of handicraft training in occupations carefully selected to suit each man's particular disablement. The blind have been marvellously instructed in various kinds of work, and many of them in their new work have almost been led to forget their affliction. Men who have lost one, or even both legs, have been drafted into vocations where the loss of a limb has not appreciably affected their output. One-armed men are secured in occupations where they can earn a living wage ; men suffering from heart trouble and other disablements which forbid any strenuous form of activity have been trained for suitable sedentary occupations. Shell-shocked men and those in the early stages of tubercu- losis have been given light outdoor training, leading not only to useful occupation, but to the restoration of their normal state of health. For the carrying out of its training scheme the Ministry of Pensions uses the 350 Local War Pensions Committees estab- lished throughout the country. These Local Committees are responsible for all discharged men living in their areas. It is their duty to get into touch with every such man, whether or not he has obtained employment since his discharge^ and to see that the treatment or training which his condition requires is secured for him. Most men can now find employment of one kind or another only too readily, employment which may be actually harmful to their health, or which they will almost certainly lose again. It is vital that these men should be persuaded to take training for some skilled pursuit which will give them permanent employment. In most districts special courses of instruction have been instituted to meet local requirements. Altogether about forty- five occupations are being taught, but the number is always being increased. Training has been sanctioned in 345 technical institutions and agricultural colleges, and in 5 1 3 workshops and factories. FOR OUR DISABLED 59 As a rule, the training takes place in day trade training schools, but it may also be arranged in a workshop or factory. An allowance of 27s. 6d. is given to a disabled man going through any approved course of training ; with additional allowances for children, 6s. 8d. for the first, 5s. for the second, and. 4s 2d. for each further child. And where the man has to leave home his wife gets an extra 13s. Qd. a week. The disabled man, after a course of three or six months' training in a technical school where the hours of attendance need not exceed thirty per week, is usually able to enter a factory and keep the regular hours of work there. The Association of Technical Institutes have readily and most generously placed their numerous facilities and equipment at the disposal of the Ministry ; in so doing they have per- formed a great social duty, conferred an incalculable blessing on our disabled men, and helped to repay the debt which the nation owes to those wounded in its service. (4) Placing the Qualified in Suitable Positions. The task of finding employment for such of our disabled as have undergone a course of training has so far met with unqualified success. Fortunately, numbers of the men have been received back by their old employers after their course of training ; and in many cases men incapable of performing their former work have been transferred to another branch of the business more suitable to their disabilities. In the effort to ensure for the disabled employment of a permanent nature, the help of the various trade unions and bodies of employers and employees has been enlisted. They have willingly drawn up conditions of training and employment which will ensure for those trained a welcome into the ranks of organized labour. Twenty-nine organized trades have helped us in this way. We call them ''Special Trades," and they have special advisory committees in each industrial centre where training is given. The duties of these committees are : — The careful allocation of disabled men to the training best suited to their disability. The watch over the progress of that training. 6o REVEILLE The placing of the men in suitable situations at the end of their training. Thousands of our disabled sailors and soldiers have been and are being made into expert workers, capable of earning a livelihood. Throughout this land, untiring energy, patient care, and incessant thought are being given to this great task, in gratitude to those who have been maimed in defence of our homes and our liberties. We, for our part, are ready to give more and more. But the disabled must come to us, or we cannot help them. Where one comes now, we want ten — that we may restore to them their rightful place in civil life. And we want the Public to urge and persuade them to come and help us to make a real success of this great work of Restoration. 6i THE ROMANCE OF SURGERY. By Colonel Sir ROBERT JONES, C.B. It is a commonplace that without the introduction of anaesthetics surgery would have been hopelessly limited and non-progressive. In the days before the discovery of chloro- form, amputation or the removal of diseased parts in cases of absolute necessity were as much as a surgeon could attempt ; with the patient under an anaesthetic, adjustment and re- arrangement of internal organs, of bones, muscles, and joints could be carried out deliberately without the primary dependence on the patient's power of endurance. Modern surgery dates from the introduction of anaesthetics ; but it was the discovery of anaesthetics themselves, of the bacterial origin of inflammation, and of methods of preventing inflammation, which has done far more than modern surgery to reduce the sum of human suffering and mortality. The agony inflicted by the surgeon's knife, severe though the shock may prove, is only at worst a matter of minutes — the pain of throbbing inflammation, the cause of which was not understood, resulted in weary days and sleepless nights, and in torture, relieved by opium, which after all is a poison to be used but sparingly. It is this second phase which has been largely overcome by the discovery of the bacterial origin of inflamma- tion, and of means of destroying bacteria ; and, still more, by avoiding the introduction of bacteria into wounds — all of which is summed up in the phrase ** aseptic surgical technique," and includes the boiling of instruments, sterilizing dressings, avoiding dirt and infection during operations, covering the surgeon's mouth so that he does not inadvertently blow bacteria into the wound when operating, and so on. With this minute care to avoid infection after operation, the surgeon knows that he can operate deliberately, rearrange and fix the various parts where he wishes them ; and that, free from bacteria, the wound will heal without inflammation, without matter forming and destroying his handiwork. 62 REVEILLE Take another advance in the history of modern medicine : the discovery of the role of each different cell in the body. The blood corpuscles, the various tissue corpuscles, these very elements of the body, have powers of fighting against the poisons secreted by bacteria, and these powers can be reinforced by antitoxins, or elicited by vaccines artificially introduced by injection and inoculation. The cells of the body are not only chemists preparing antidotes to poisons, but many of them are specially endowed with mechanical functions which they exercise in response to the calls made on them. The cells of bone have the power of taking down and of building new bone, and throughout life they continue to do so, according as various regions of the body have to meet mechanical strain or not. When a man goes into training for a game or for war his bones get stronger and harder, his muscles bigger and firmer, and his nerve-cells work more promptly. If the same man gets a limb damaged his bones become lighter and weaker because the bone cells remove the bone structure no longer necessary, his muscles waste, and the nerve cells do not act so promptly. Upon recovery they all have to be trained again. The musician, the artist, the sculptor, the expert mechanic, must practise his art or his craft to keep all the elements of his body in proper co-ordination and training. All this is common in ordinary life ; but few people realize that, in a mutilated limb, muscles can be made to learn to do things they never did before ; bones can be arranged, and the cells will build them up to meet new emergencies ; nerve cells will learn to send messages to the muscles in their new work, and a new limb, as it were, will be created. To bring about such a piece of reconstruction it is not enough for the surgeon to repair divided nerves, to transplant muscles in place of those destroyed by gunshot wounds, to graft bone in place of that which is lost, but he must see that all these tissues are properly trained to do their work. It is more difficult than training a boy for a contest in athletics, for that is merely training normal limbs to do their normal work with special skill. In a reconstructed limb every tissue has to be trained from the beginning to perform its own quota in conjunction with the others. Bones, joints, muscles, and nerves, have all to undergo what is called " adaptive growth." THE ROMANCE OF SURGERY 63 By " adaptive growth " is meant the wonderful power by which living tissues, whether plant or animal, adapt themselves to the work they have to do. Trees throw out roots to steady themselves against prevailing winds and to tap the nearest and best water supply; and flowers turn towards the sun. In the animal frame, bone cells construct bone to meet the strain thrown on them and shape the joint-ends of bones to fit the movements required ; ligaments and fibrous tissues adapt them- selves to hold the parts of the body together ; muscles adapt themselves to the movements they control. With these general introductory remarks, we may now pass on to survey rapidly the interesting developments of surgery constantly coping with the vast number of mutilations and disabilities arising from this war. These developments have had their origin in work done before the war ; often in work which was not very widely known, but now has sprung into prominence. In days before the war mutilations were comparatively few. The majority of surgeons made their living by the surgical treatment of the minor and serious emergencies of civil life — acute appendicitis, perforated gastric ulcers, tumours requiring operation — all bulked largely in their eyes. Here and there isolated enthusiasts made rarer injuries the objects of their special care and inquiry. Here and there a surgeon supported by a few ardent pupils studied the repair of divided nerves ; another devoted time and thought to the growth of bones ; another to the formation of artificial joints or to transplantation of muscles. The few who gave themselves to reconstructive surgery among deformed children and adults deformed by accidents in factories, studied these special subjects ; but never in the whole of history has surgery encountered such an overwhelming mass of material requiring the general application and wide develop- ment of methods formerly rare in surgical practice. Before the war, for instance, very few surgeons saw more than occasional cases of divided nerves requiring repair. Now every convoy of wounded contains many men with injured and divided nerves. The technique of suturing nerves has become one of the important points in operative practice, and the subsequent re-education of nerve and musple to work together. 64 REVEILLE the preservation of the muscle In good health while its nerve is not working, all call for special thought and study by every surgeon. Again, in the lacerating wounds caused by modern explo- sions, often large portions of a main trunk are destroyed, and have to be cut away in the process of cleaning the original wound to get rid of mud, dirt, and those dangerous infective agents contained in the soil which cause gas gangrene and acute sepsis. Transplantation of Tendons. Now, when the original wound is healed it may be found impossible to bring the nerve ends together. This may involve serious disability. For example, the musculo-spiral nerve is very often damaged beyond repair in the upper arm. Its function is to supply motor impulses to all the muscles which lift the wrist backwards and which straighten the thumb and fiffgers. At the same time, the muscles and their nerves which close the fingers often escape. Unless something can be done, therefore, to restore the balance between the opposing muscle groups the wrist cannot be lifted nor the fingers opened — for the extensor group of muscles are paralysed, while the un- opposed flexors overact. Here is where experience derived from reconstructive surgery among children comes to the surgeon's aid, and helps him to deal with paralysis of this type in the wounded soldier. In the case of the lower limb the tendons of the muscles behind the knee-joint can be transplanted, brought to the front and attached to the knee-cap so as to help to straighten the leg and steady it in walking. In the same way the transplantation of the tendons of muscle from one side of the foot to the other side have become routine operations in reconstructive surgical practice. Borrowing from this experience — in the case, say, of paralysis of the upper limb due to an irreparable gunshot injury of a nerve, producing such a condition as " drop wrist " — we now select certain of the uninjured muscles which normally bend the wrist or fingers, and transplant them, uniting them with the tendons of the paralysed muscles whose usual function is to straighten the fingers. THE ROMANCE OF SURGERY 65 It is fascinating both in children and soldiers to watch the transplanted muscles gradually learning their new work. At first these transplanted muscles show a tendency to work on their original lines along with the other muscles of the same group, and it is only after long and careful training that the brain cells become educated and learn to send their impulses down to the muscles to produce movements which may be the exact opposite of Nature's original design. Muscle Education. This transplanted muscle requires very careful re-education. It is comparatively easy to make it contract either by electric stimulus or by massage ; but the masseuse who possesses the mesmeric gift of making the patient train his own brain to rearrange the motor impulses concentrated there is compara- tively rare, and an invaluable asset to the hospital in which she is working. This work is most difficult, and it ought to be more generally appreciated that the masseuse who can re-educate patients is successful only at the expense of a great deal of patience, perseverance, and attention to detail — to keep and educate the attention of her patient requires sustained mental effort. This kind of massage and muscle education is not routine ; it is very fatiguing personal work of a highly specialized order. Another way in which tendons can be utilized has also been borrowed from the surgery of paralysed children. In some cases of poliomyelitis or infantile paralysis, the child's walking is contracted because the muscles which raise the foot are paralysed, causing it to drop at the ankle. All that is wanted is something to hold the foot up. This can of course be done by a mechanical device, but it can also be done by using the tendons of the paralysed muscles as internal straps, to hold the ankle at right angles, the tendons being permanently planted into a tunnel bored into the bone. The child then has a living toe-strap within the leg. The application of this device to soldiers with ''dropped-foot " is obvious. It has its limita- tions, and ought not to be used except when the muscles are totally paralysed, and then only in suitable selected cases. 5 66 REVEILLE Bone-graft Surgery. Just before the outbreak of war the practice of grafting one bone on to the body of another to bridge a defect or to give rigidity where strength had been impaired by disease was attaining some prominence. The most frequent operation was the grafting of a strip of bone cut from the shin in early cases of tuberculous disease of the spine, thereby giving sufficient rigidity to shorten the process of cure and prevent the formation of a hunch back. There were also cases of septic destruction of bone in which parts or even the whole shaft of a bone had been destroyed by acute inflammation, and replaced, after the inflammation had ceased, by laying in a strip of bone taken from another part of the body. To watch these grafts gradually obeying Nature's law, by adapting themselves to the work of restoration, was very interesting. Thus, in one case, where the whole length of the shaft of a boy's shin bone had been destroyed by acute inflammation, the bone was replaced by a strip cut from the whole length of the opposite shin. This was laid in between the muscles in the position of the original bone. The muscles grew into it and gradually began to use it as a purchase point from which to exert their active force in moving the foot. It was interesting to watch in successive X-ray pictures the gradual thickening of the bone, and how it slowly began to assume the shape of the original bone as it was gradually allowed to assume its duties and functions, proving that the bone cells build new bone to meet emergencies. The case in question was additionally unfortunate because the boy fell and broke his leg ; but it united in the usual time, the grafted bone behaving just like the normal would have. In one hospital is a patient whose bony defects have been made good by bone borrowed from three comrades. Armed with the experiences of cases like this, surgeons have extended bone-graft surgery. They now not only bridge defects in the middle of bones and fractures which have not united, but, in the latest development of this branch of the surgical craft, they have begun to make up the 'oss of ends of THE ROMANCE OF SURGERY 67 bones. This is more difficult, for the grafted bone can only be planted in bone at one end, and the other end has to be made to take part in the formation of a joint. Already this new application of bone-graft surgery has met with considerable success, and when the technical details are still further developed even greater advances may be confidently predicted. In the case of the jaw and the nose, brilliant reconstructive work has been done by utilizing portions of ribs to replace the jaw bone when destroyed by gun fire, and this forms a foundation on which a new face can be built by utilizing skin from other parts. The transformation in appearance of shattered and disfigured faces accomplished by modern surgical methods almost surpasses belief. Another branch of reconstructive surgery which has advanced during the war is the formation of new joints. In civil life there were very few stiff joints in which arthroplastic operations were urgently needed. Some surgeons had performed such operations several times, but the great majority had never been confronted with the necessity of attempting the construc- tion of a new joint. The technical difficulties of providing a new lining for the joint, of knowing how soon to allow move- ment and how soon to allow real use, were all in dispute, and few had experience of a sufficient number of cases to pronounce an authoritative opinion. Now that cases are constantly recurring, for example, in which both elbows are stiff from gunshot injury, it is not merely justifiable but eminently practical to aim at giving the patient one movable elbow, even if it should prove a little weaker than the normal, so that he may have one strong stiff elbow for heavy work and one mobile elbow for buttoning his collar, feeding himself and So forth. It must, however, be borne in mind that to select cases in which success can reasonably be expected calls for great care and judgment which can only be perfected by actual experience. Treatment of Stumps. Finally, a new chapter has been opened by Italian surgeons in the treatment of amputation stumps and the construction of artificial limbs. In the days of the Napoleonic wars amputa- 68 REVEILLE tions of the lower leg were preferably made at the '' seat of election " about four inches below the knee, because a peg leg on which the patient kneeled was the best and most useful artificial limb. To-day the seat of election is no longer neces- sary or advantageous, since, with modern artificial limbs, longer leverage is desirable, for the artificial limb is provided with a more ingenious knee-joint. To take another instance, the case of Captain Cuttle's hook is familiar to all as the historic sub- stitute for a hand. During the progress of the war artificial arms have been invented possessing fingers actuated by pulleys controlled by movements of the patient's shoulder muscles. Finally, Italian surgeons have introduced a method of making either loops on the sinews of the muscles or button- like projections from them to which can be attached pulleys directly moving the fingers and thumb. Thus the old flexors and extensors of the old fingers are still utilized as extensors and flexors of the artificial fingers and a more precise and accurate grip of tools and implements can be obtained. It is not too much to say that this is nothing short of a revolution in surgery. It may aflect the whole horizon of ampu- tation. Hitherto the surgeon operating in a casualty clearing station has been urged to look ahead, and when he has to amputate to consider the stump from the point of view of fitting artificial limbs as we used to know them. He may soon have to remodel all his ideas, think less of the stump as a stump and more of preserving all he can of the muscles and sinews, so that, when the septic wounds of war are healed, surgical reconstruction may fashion muscular attachments for the movable parts of new artificial limbs. Professor Putti. A development of this character entails a quite new co- ordination of work between surgeons and instrument makers. Both are faced by an entirely fresh constructive field of restor- ation. The demonstrations by Professor Putti at the Inter- Allied Conference held in London last May have indicated the lines on which the specialist will base his plan of campaign. It has not been possible within the scope of so brief a paper to attempt more than an indication of the achievements of a I THE ROMANCE OF SURGERY 69 single branch of modern surgery. The resources of surgery- are daily expanding, it is for us to see that they are wisely used, that the wounded soldier and the disabled pensioner are put in touch with those surgeons who have most studied the particular disability and are best fitted to deal with it. These surgeons must be grouped in well-equipped hospitals with every means for obtaining new appliances, new instruments and every facility for making the advances which are bound to follow when so many fresh minds are taking up a work which has been so finely commenced and is endowed with such vast possibilities. CURATIVE WORKSHOPS IN THE ORTHOPAEDIC CENTRES OF THE UNITED KINGDOM. By HIS MAJESTY KING MANOEL. In November and December of 19 15 I was asked by the British Red Cross Society to go to France to visit their hospitals, and some of the French and Belgian hospitals. I was particularly struck by a branch of the work established at the Roi Albert I Anglo-Belgian Hospital at Rouen, and also at the Grand Palais in Paris. On my return I reported to the British Red Cross Society the importance of having the same system instituted in this country. At that time there was only one military orthopaedic hospital over here, the Alder Hey Hospital in Liverpool. In March, 19 16, it was decided to establish a big orthopaedic centre at Shepherd's Bush, in London, and with this centre I have had the privilege of being associated since its beginning. I never forgot the impression made on me by the workshops at Rouen, and was convinced that very great and beneficial results could be obtained from the same over here. During the spring and summer of 1916 I very often discussed with Sir Robert Jones, Inspector of Military Orthopaedics, and with Major Walter Hill, at that time Registrar of the Shepherd's Bush Hospital, the question of having workshops established at that hospital. Bearing in mind the destructive idleness of hospital life, our first object was to give occupation to the men ; our second to choose such occupations as would be curative to their injury ; our third to find occupations which would benefit them psycho- logically. After discussions, many difficulties and worries, it was decided to establish the first British curative workshops at Shepherd's Bush as an experiment (though such workshops already existed at the Canadian Hospital in Ramsgate). CURATIVE WORKSHOPS 7^ Our curative workshops were of two sorts : Those giving direct curative treatment by enabling the men to use their injured limbs ; and those giving indirect or psychological curative treatment, that is, moral treatment combined with the physical. We had men who had been in hospitals eighteen months and more, had suffered much, undergone many operations ; and, accustomed to the idleness of hospital life, were beginning to feel that they would never again be of any use either in military or civil life. Bad for them ; bad for the nation ! We felt that those men, by working at some occupation, would soon be able to judge from the results produced, that little by little they would again become useful to themselves, to their families, and to their country. To this part, then, of the scheme, we gave the name of " psychological treatment." The first workshops at Shepherd's Bush were opened on October i, 191 6, generously equipped by the British Red Cross and Order of St. John ; and with some funds which I obtained privately. As far as possible we let the men work at their own trades. All was, and still is, voluntary. The moment the announcement was made, about thirty men applied ; we now have about 150 men working in the workshops, and about 500 working in various other capacities in the hospital. Very few men in this hospital are idle to-day, and throughout there is an atmosphere of content and industry. By degrees this scheme of *' manual curative treatment" began to spread throughout the country, and curative work- shops were established in all the orthopaedic centres. Thanks to the great generosity of the Red Cross, and the Public, and to the interest and support of Sir Alfred Keogh, late Director- General, we now have curative workshops established at the following centres : Military Orthopaedic Hospital, Shepherd's Bush, London ; Alder Hey Hospital, West Derby, Liverpool ; Second Northern General Hospital, Beckett's Park, l^eeds ; Welsh Metropolitan War Hospital, Whitchurch, near Cardiff; Beaufort War Hospital, Fishponds, Bristol ; Third Southern General Hospital, Oxford ; Military Orthopaedic Hospital, Blackrock, Dublin ; Ulster Volunteer Force Hospital, Belfast ; Bellahouston War Hospital, Glasgow; Bangour War Hospital, 72 REVEILLE Edinburgh ; Old Mill Hospital, Aberdeen ; First Northern General Hospital, Newcastle-on-Tyne ; Second Birmingham War Hospital, Northfield, Birmingham ; Reading War Hospital, Reading, Berks. And curative workshops now form part of the recognized equipment of any orthopaedic hospital. At Shepherd's Bush the following workshops are now open : Splint-making, boot and shoe-making (including principally surgical boot work), carpenters' shop, tailors' shop, general engineering, fret-workers' shop, painters' shop, com- mercial photography, electricians, plumbers, ironworkers, cigarette-makers, printers, sign-writers. Some of these shops, such as boot and shoe making, carpenters, tailors, and engineers, have been established at practically every centre, while in certain centres special local industries have been started ; for example, net-making at Aberdeen and Dublin, basket-making at Bristol, very beautiful embossed leather- work at Liverpool, printing at Whitchurch, wood-carving at Glasgow, &c. Such is the history of the establishment of curative work- shops in the orthopaedic centres, but there are still several points which ought to be mentioned. The first duty of the Military orthopaedic centres is to try to get men fit as soon as possible to go back to the Army ; but we have a very large number of men who, at the comple- tion of their treatment, will be discharged from the Army and go back to civil life. We have taken as our basis and ideal the old Latin rule : '' Mens sana in corpore sano " ; and with our curative workshops have tried to build a bridge between military and civil life. It is our duty not only to do our utmost to restore the men to health, but to make them useful citizens to the mother-country when they return to industry. The country has given her most precious treasures, her sons. She gave them willingly, and we must give them back to her restored to the utmost. It is a great pleasure to know that the scheme of curative workshops is being followed in the orthopaedic hospitals of the United States. I know, from conversations, that the import- ance of this question has been clearly understood there from all points of view, both military and civil. It is too soon to realize as a whole the results obtained, but I am sure they will be CURATIVE WORKSHOPS 73 far greater than we expected when we started. In many ways the manual curative treatment has helped wonderfully the recovery of injured limbs. Men who have been idle for months start working, gain interest, begin again the active life they formerly led, while still undergoing treatment. Men, discharged from the Army, having finished their treatment, have had training in our workshops which will prove very useful to them in civil life. And, by working in the shops, the men save money to the State. In the first year at Shepherd's Bush ^'3,000 was saved, by work done in the workshops instead of outside. From the military point of view, curative workshops have assuredly been a great help ; the men get fit more quickly. For those who have been in hospital a long time, the psycho- logical treatment has an importance at least as great as the direct treatment of the injured limb in the shops. So often I have seen men who thought they would never again be able to work. We have persuaded them to start ; in a few days they became interested, and were saying : •' I feel better, the work's doing me good." Men, for instance, with badly injured hands, who start work in the carpenter's shop, at first do most of the work with the sound hand, but gradually begin helping the sound hand with the injured one, and thus unconsciously improve it. From the civil point of view we have to consider the very large number of disabled men there will be at the end of this war. Many of them can become useful citizens again if they are properly trained. But to achieve this result I think it is indispensable to begin some kind of training while they are in hospital undergoing treatment; such work may be extremely useful under medical and surgical supervision, though without that supervision it may do more harm than good, especially at the beginning. It is most difficult for a man who has been badly wounded, has undergone several serious operations, been in hospital eighteen months or more, and lost all habits of active life, suddenly to take up on his discharge a trade which will suit his new condition. It is, I feel, most important, both for the men and for the nation, that the preliminaries of training should begin in hospital, so that the men may get accustomed to work, and 74 REVEILLE interested in what they are doing. I should hke, therefore, to see this system of curative workshops estabHshed also in hospitals which contain discharged men. Then, and then only, we should be able to judge the real benefit of curative workshops. I would not like to finish this article without saying a word of praise and paying the most heartfelt tribute of admiration to my very dear friend. Colonel Sir Robert Jones, Inspector of Military Orthopaedics, who has directed the whole enterprise. No words could praise him too highly for the wonderful work he has done for this country. There are so many to whom I am grateful for all the help they have given in this work : Sir Alfred Keogh ; the Hon. Sir Arthur Stanley ; and Sir Robert Hudson, of the British Red Cross; Major Paterson, Assistant Inspector of Military Orthopaedics, who has directed the workshops at Liverpool ; Major Walter Hill, whose enthusiastic energy was largely responsible for the institution of the first workshops at Shepherd's Bush ; and Mr. Peate, the head of those workshops Sir Berkeley Moynihan and Colonel Littlewood (Leeds) Colonel Lynn Thomas and Major Alwyn Smith (Cardiff) Major Hey Groves (Bristol); Captain Girdlestone (Oxford) Colonel Mitchell (Belfast) ; Major Potter (Dublin) ; and in Scotland Colonel Harold Stiles, and Sir George Beatson, Chairman of the Scottish Branch of the British Red Cross Society. I want also to thank my two American friends. Major Goldthwait and Major Osgood. We have all tried to help those who in the service of their King and Country have done their duty, and suffered. If we have succeeded, it is for us the greatest happiness. / :> BEDSIDE OCCUPATIONS FOR WOUNDED SOLDIERS. By JOEL E. GOLDTHWAIT, Lieutenant-Colonel, Medical Corps, N.A., U.S.A. (Senior Consultant in Orthopadic Surgery ^ American Expeditionary Force,) There is no question as to the importance not only of curing our wounded soldiers, but of teaching them, if permanently disabled, trades which will make them as independent as possible. The only question is how best to approach them so that they will accept the chance of learning such trades. Everyone recognizes the need of this educational work, but all who have had experience know also that the opportunities offered to the men for their undoubted betterment are very often refused. The more the matter is studied, the more evident it becomes that, if such traininor is to be oiven, the preparation for it should be started much earlier than is commonly the case. Most men, if they have lain in bed for two, three, four, or more months, with nothing to do but be cared for and petted by kind friends, will grow indolent and inactive, and when the time comes to get about will look askance on an offer to teach them a new trade. On the other hand, if, in the very beginning of the soldier's recover)^ occupation of some sort is given him and continued with increasing elaboration as his recovery progresses, occupation becomes so customary that to go on to a new trade is simply a natural progression. In some hospitals, of course, this principle is already recognized ; bedside occupations are in use and of unquestioned benefit. But they have not as yet become a fixed part of the treatment, and until they are, this difficulty in getting men to take training for new trades will probably persist. Profiting by the experience of our Allies, the United States Government has now definitely recognized the need of such 16 REVEILLE early occupations and has trained a corps of women for the work. They are called " Reconstruction Aides " and have the same general status, pay, quarters, &c., as have the nurses. The uniform is somewhat similar, but distinctive enough to avoid confusion and emphasize the difference in the service. These Aides will act under the direction of the attending surgeon and will see that some form of bedside occupation is provided for each patient wherever possible. The length of time to be devoted to this occupation, and the nature of it, are to be approved by the attending surgeon and checked up by him from time to time. In this most important therapeutic measure the one consideration at first is to occupy the man. The form of occupation is distinctly secondary. All who have given the subject thought know that a sudden arrest of the normal activities, or the enforced substitution of a new and unusual set of m.ental processes, leads not only to an unwholesome state of mind, but to physical disturbance. The most common example of this, that everyone will recognize, is the digestive trouble which so frequently follows periods of worry or depression. Under such conditions of disturbed mental functions the whole body suffers ; the digestion is modified, the circulation interfered with, and all processes of physical repair are naturally retarded. While, then, the patient is confined to bed, the occupation should be chosen chiefly for its power of interesting him, leaving aside for the moment the effect on the injured part. Naturally, if there are two equally interesting kinds of work available, the one which would be of the greatest benefit physi- cally would be chosen ; but in the first few days while the patient is adjusting himself to the new conditions, the first thought should be to restore, so far as possible, a normal state of mind. Occupation of this kind should begin almost at once, but be carefully regulated to prevent fatigue, either nervous or physical. Half the battle lies in accustoming the man to think of himself as useful ; this should be constantly kept before him whether he is occupied five minutes or two hours. The thought that he will be at it again the same afternoon or the next day should be encouraged, as well as the certainty that the work will be more and more interesting as time goes on. BEDSIDE OCCUPATIONS FOR SOLDIERS ^^ No emphasis should be laid on the work as work ; it should be treated wholly as a curative measure, helping him to get well. It is so important to secure your patient's co-operation and make him realize that what he is doing helps in his own recovery. The success of the ** Reconstruction Aides " will naturally depend on their ability to select occupations interesting to the individual, and to change them often enough to prevent monotony. For such occupations there can be no fixed rule or type ; they include everything which involves the use of the hands, from the simple winding of bandages to the making of some complicated piece of embroidery. The following come to mind — but anything which engages the patient's interest and occupies his hands is good, and should be used as occasion offers: Embroidery, whittling and toy- making, basket-making, net-making, crocheting (including the spool and rake forms), scrap-book making, photograph mounting, coarse beadwork, simple forms of weaving, drawing (including mechanical drawing), telegraphy, stenography, folding of dressings, wind- ing of bandages, covering of splints, the painting or varnishing of splints, &c. For bedside work, none of these need be carried to a high degree of perfection, and probably none will be followed for any considerable length of time. Take embroidery : It is not likely a man will do much with this, but in the early stages of his recovery the working out in " cross-stitch" of some pattern, such as the regimental insignia or a design depicting a military scene, for a sofa pillow or similar article, is intensely interesting to the man, and perhaps may provide an heirloom for his family. Naturally this kind of work will not be continued ; probably by the time the article is finished the recovery will be far enough along to make some more natural form of work possible, but, if used rightly, it will help greatly in restoration of the man s health and in leading him to future usefulness. The writer feels that these early so-called *' bedside occupa- tions " are of such importance that they should have a regular place in the care and treatment of the wounded. And he is sure that, if they are generally used, men will be more eager to return to their former activities and more ready to welcome training for new or special vocations. 7^ THE RETURN OF THE OFFICER. By CIVILIAN. The future of our country will depend on the rapidity with which the balance of trade can be restored, moribund industries revived, and employment provided for the demobilized soldier on the declaration of peace. It is acknowledged that the period separating disbandment and civilian occupation should be as brief as possible for commercial no less than for moral reasons. Admittedly the universal desire of this nation is to make such a return as simple and swift as forethought and enterprise can accomplish, and if the tendency of this paper appears to be critical rather than congratulatory it is with the sole purpose of emphasizing some practical means by which the country can best aid the Army and preserve its own inheritance. In all good faith the British people are determined to do what they can for the soldier, and they have grasped one blinding truth — that he will want a job. Vast numbers of men will in due course be restored to the industries of shipbuilding, engineering, manufacturing, and so on. It is of the first importance that the State should organize her campaign for international trade. But is it not even more vital that she should provide men equipped to control and guide her industries? In preparation for the day when the soldier returns to take up the weapons of peace a civil service academy for ex-officers has for some time been established in Germany. For what purpose is Germany prepared to train a large number of selected officers regardless of expense ? This is not the inspiration of a tender-hearted government like an elderly lady dispensing complacent charity — it is just hard commonsense, the first step to placing the worker under the guidance of the finest trained brains in the country ; the most practical, obvious, and at the same time com- pensatory action possible. The State trains these finest brains for war. Is it any less imperative to train them for peace .•* To regard the provision of immediate vacancies in employ- THE RETURN OF THE OFFICER 79 ment for the demobilized officer and man as the complete and final achievement of a grateful people, is a bankrupt and perilous policy. The commercial supremacy of the British Empire was undermined before the outbreak of war ; every sphere of our national life was stationary, rather than effective and alert with the spirit of progress. None dare hope that the terrible strain of the present struggle will cause a reaction of energy and purpose, when, in the day of peace, the armies of broken men are released to take up as stern and arduous a conflict. Rather will the overwhelming craving be for rest and recuperation ; and who will blame the soldier because he has lost the cunning of his trade ? The German Government do not intend to fight the commercial struggle of the future with hands less skilled than in 1 914. The ravages of war, there, will be repaired at the cost of the State. Re-education will run a parallel course to demobilization, since national efficiency is the best investment a people can possess. // is the one which pays the biggest divide7id. It is not the intention of this paper to deal with the great problem of universal re-education for civic life, but only to examine one aspect — the return of the officer. During the last four years the upper and middle classes have provided the Army with many thousands of young subalterns who were, when war broke out, at school, at college, or learning the elements of industrial life. They have sur- rendered the four most precious years in their lives. When they are invalided out of the Army, or are finally demobilized, their chief inclination will be to accept the first opening which presents itself. Who can blame them ? The invalided officer to-day knows that his pension will probably not last more than a few months, and is accordingly anxious to find his feet before sounder men return. The officer on demobilization can hardly be expected to resist the general impulse to secure immediate work. It Is natural in both cases that "a return to school'' should be unwelcome. Four years of warfare have passed, years bringing to youth the maturity of manhood without its essential stability, as often as not adding the responsibilities of matrimony to the problems of earning a livelihood. Can anyone be surprised that the young officer — fully aware of his inexperience — should jump at the first post he is offered } So REVEILLE So urgent has this whole question become that various official and unofficial bodies have endeavoured with varying success to promote at least temporary relief and assistance for officers in actual monetary difficulties, and courses of training for those who are either unable to resume their old occupation, or who have returned without any qualifications for earning a livelihood. There are three main points to be considered in a brief survey of the position : — (a) Training schemes of the Ministries of Pensions and Labour. (d) Training for National Service. (c) The disabled officer and the Land. (a) Training SchejMes of the Ministries of Pensions and Labour. Under the Royal Warrant of August, 191 7, the Ministry of Pensions is authorized to provide training for officers in receipt of retired pay, who, by reason of disability caused by active service, are unable to resume their previous occupation. Under Clause 7 {a and d) of this Warrant any officer approved for a course of training receives, during that training, in addition to his pension, the difference, if any, between that amount and retired pay at the highest degree — i.e., a subaltern or captain would be paid at the rate of ^175. Besides this allowance for maintenance the Ministry pays all necessary fees for instruction up to a sum not exceeding ^50. But note three points : — The Ministry's provisions for training are confined to a comparatively small number of officers, those who cannot resume their previous occupation on grounds of health. They do not begin to operate until the officer is invalided out of the Army. The courses are mostly arranged for officers compelled on grounds of ill-health to live as far as possible out of doors. And unless an officer possesses sufficient capital to purchase a holding at the end of training, the Ministry will not risk giving him a year's instruction. THE RETURN OF THE OFFICER 8i The first two points have given rise to a further training scheme of the Ministry of Labour, under a recently established special branch called the Appointments Department, concen- trating on questions of re-education and employment. Experience shows that both the convalescent and the discharged soldier are disinclined to be trained except where the nature of their disabilities compels them to learn entirely new vocations. It is the same with the officer. The following scheme has been devised to try and over- come the difficulty. Early in 191 8 an arrangement was made between the War Office and the Ministry of Labour (and is already promising to be a great success), whereby the serving officer on light duty could be re-educated with a view to civil life. The War Office agreed that it was better from a military standpoint that such officers should be engaged on regular work and remain under military discipline. From the national point of view the advantage is, of course, incontestable. It means that for six months, or longer, hundreds — even thousands — of young officers, will be given a chance of attending university classes, of fitting themselves as wage- earners, and becoming familiar, if nothing more, with the spirit of the return to normal life. The scheme pror lises more than that ; but for the present let us see how it is developing. The Appointments Department is opening local centres in connection with universities and technical institutions all over the British Isles. A light duty officer is thus enabled to attend a course of business training in Birmingham, or chemistry in London, or forestry in Cambridge, or metallurgy in Sheffield. All arrangements for billeting, &c., are in the hands of the local adjutant. It has been felt, however, that this training of serving officers could commence still earlier. There is a period during which the ''convalescent" is wearied with weakness and inertia, when he cares neither about the present nor the future. That is the time when the mind should be grippedxiand roused by interests outside the monotony of hospital routine. It is psychologically true that long convalescence is largely a matter of the patient's mental attitude. And it has been recently agreed that the re-education of the officer must start in hospital, 82 . REVEILLE and end, one is hopeful, upon demobilization. The plan of campaign will, therefore, cover three main stages. (i) Training during Convalescence, — These lectures will aim at rousing the officer's interest in his return to civilian life ; at kindling his imagination by depicting national reconstruction, and the part he will play in the making of a new England ; at familiarizing him with Colonial problems and developments, likely to be so important after the War. For purposes of business efficiency the study of French, Spanish, and Russian will be arranged. (2) Training during Hospital Treatment or Periods of Light Duty, — To develop the knowledge thus acquired during convalescence, the War Office has arranged with the Ministry of Labour that officers, sufficiently recovered to be moved, shall go to other hospitals in districts where training classes may be taken. During his attendance at lectures, whether attached to a hospital or in college or rooms, he will receive full pay and allowances from the War Office, and be under the discipline and care of an Adjutant approved by the War Office. Besides convalescents, there are, however, a large number of officers on light duty engaged in work in Government Departments or in the War Office, who cannot train during the daytime. For these it is suggested that hostels shall be founded to provide economical living, social welfare, and voluntary lectures of an educational character in the evenings. (3) Training after Demobilization, — In the case of many officers some degree of training will, under the circumstances already detailed, have been accomplished before they return to civil life. But there will be many others, invalided out of the Army, without any period of light duty, coming immediately under the authority of the Ministry of Pensions ; and also the vast number of officers who on demobilization will require substantial inducement to spend any more time in unprofitable routine. How can the State best serve the interests of these officers whose claim for consideration is so great, and at the same time the interests of its own future '^ THE RETURN OF THE OFFICER 83 (d) Training for Nation^^l Service. Thouorh the scheme sketched above is admirable it is obviously of insufficient scope. It can train a subaltern so long as he is in hospital or on light duty ; can assist the disabled officer in receipt of a pension ; can endeavour to find employment on demobilization. But it cannot complete its work. ^ The necessity for re-education startles many people. One of the vague ideas which is dying hardest is the belief that the officer is a man of means, who will not tolerate interference or assistance. To-day the subaltern is granted a commission for no other reason than because he deserves one. //e is, in shorty worth training. He will not, of course, relish anything which savours of charity or fussiness. But there is no room here for charity or benevolence. There is simply the hard fact — that four years of war do not necessarily fit a man for holding his own, or the country's own, against ruthless competition. What, then, is to be done to train the demobilized officer, who requires education in the elements of industry '^ Some, for financial reasons, will be unable to resume their education at the universities. Many will have left school to join the Army. A great number will have lost touch with business principles. Hundreds will desire to go abroad or on the land. Into what channels shall all this restless energy be directed '^ To start with, we can form, in our manufacturing centres and provincial universities, classes of technical training to fit the local young officer for posts in local industries, and we can combine this with some sort of apprenticeship or part-time work to give him an insight into the practical features of his future employment. The cost of a short intensive training of this kind might well be covered by a Government grant on demobilization ; and at the end of training a diploma could be given after examination. The main point is to train the officer locally for a particular industry with the definite prospect of an appointment at the end of it. Suppose an officer residing in Manchester left school in 19 14 to join the Army. During some part of his service, he might, or might not, have taken a course under the Officers University and Technical Classes. If he had, he would continue from the point at which he 84 REVEILLE returned to the Army ; if he had had no previous training he would be directed to a Technical Course in Manchester for the purpose of studying the cotton industry. It is suggested that during his course he should be maintained either by the State or by public funds raised locally. The point is : That, to reconstruct industry, men should be trained locally, and at the end of their training a local body, the Federation of Employers, Chamber of Commerce, Trade Unions,^and University should procure them posts in the industries in which they have been trained. For the sphere of general business training need not of course be provided locally. Various educational institutions already have courses in all branches of commercial activity. And, following the strong movement towards social service, the London School of Economics and Political Science give instruc- tion in the more specialized branches of welfare work and labour problems. In every branch of reconstruction there will be numerous posts for trained men. It only remains for the employer and the various Government Departments to meet the problems without pettiness and prejudice, and realize that to-day ideas and regulations reputed beyond reproach have suddenly become obsolete and futile. There is a growing dearth, for instance, of teachers for the elementary and secondary schools. The whole question of education has never been so much in the public mind as it is to-day; but there is little inducement, as yet, for the officer to adopt this most important profession. ^ The Local Government Board has to deal with a demand for better material conditions which will transform civil life, especially in housing. Here, also, would appear to be a field for utilizing young officers, following a course in surveying and welfare work. The Board of Agriculture is faced with the question of land settlement. Surely officers who have learned the control of men could be trained for the supervision of co-operative holdings ? There are, again, the various Government departments, such as the Colonial Office. The satisfaction of the world's enormous economic demands after the war will be governed in large measure by the supply of raw materials ; this, in turn. THE RETURN OF THE OFFICER 85 will greatly depend on the wise exploitation of tropical re- sources. Such development must occur mainly under the management of white men, and candidates for posts on tropical estates seem likely to be abundant among ex-officers whose war experience has given them a taste for an active and not unad- venturous life. But what special qualifications will successful applicants to the inter-departmental committee bring to their work.** Apparently none whatever. Men with Eastern ex- perience will be snapped up by their old employers, and inex- perienced men will be sent out untrained. It is in accordance with precedent that our novices should learn the ropes on the spot, but it is not in accordance with the needs of the future that our factories should starve while the producers of raw material are gaining rule-of-thumb experience in their business. (c) The Officer and the Land. Finally there is the problem of the return of the disabled officer who is compelled by reason of his disability to adopt an open-air occupation. He probably has no experience of, and possibly very little inclination for, agricultural work. Before the war he may have been anything from a schoolmaster to a cotton broker. Following the exhaustion of active service and prolonged illness he is suddenly confronted with the need of starting afresh in a most technical and costly occupation. Un- trained, disabled, probably without means, perhaps with heavy domestic responsibilities. Not much of an outlook for him! A., say, was on the Stock Exchange ; he is invalided out of the Army with gas poisoning and the loss of a lung. He is ordered to live out of doors. His pension during training is at the rate of ;^ 1 75 a year, and out of this he has to support himself, his wife and children. During the war his capital has gone in educating his family and holding his home together. Why then train such a man for agriculture at all ? Because you can- not return him to office work ; it would be against every law of health and honourable treatment. The country would not tolerate such a disgrace for a moment. But the difficulty now, as always, is that hard facts are not fully considered and dealt with. "Even if these officers were provided with capital," say the obstructionists, **the prospects in agriculture are not suffi- 86 REVEILLE ciently stable to make their lives anything but a fight against overwhelming odds." That kind of apathetic statement haunts innumerable conferences with its perpetual counsel of despair. It has sufficient truth to be disturbing, while it is neither con- structive nor final. The fact remains, and will remain, that a number of disabled officers are compelled through severe wounds or disease to start their lives afresh on the land. What can be done for them ? The Ministry of Pensions, advised throughout by the Board of Agriculture, already has officers in training for horticulture at Bristol, for dairy farming at Reading, for forestry at Oxford and Cambridge, and will shortly include disabled officers in a class in market gardening. The Appointments Department of the Ministry of Labour are opening additional courses of all kinds, of open-air and handicraft work, suited to disabled officers, at all the educational centres of the British Isles. These officers can be trained and inspired with new hope to devote the remainder of their strength to the development of England's resources. Their number is comparatively small and the expenditure needed to settle them on the land under co-operative supervision would amount to the cost of running the war for about half an hour ! A small holding, with the additional income provided by bee-keeping, poultry, and rabbits, would support a man and his family in health and comfort. It may shock many^ people to hear that the great and growing dread of the battlefield is the fear not of death, but of being maimed. The Army is watching the people at home. It is not critical, but deeply, intensely moved by the shadow of physical incapacity. The sure knowledge that a man serving his country could claim not merely restoration to civilian life, but a part in the rebuilding of England, would strengthen his courage during the night of battle. Some men are fired to the end by an ideal. But to most of us the vision of a home with all its little unforgetable associations and memories is the country of our first and last desires. "LIFE!" By Edmund J. Sullivan. 89 OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL. By ENID BAGNOLD. (Author of " A Diary without Dates.*') (i) The Hill. The soft rumour of London at our backs, the rhododendra flowing in bright colours to the foot of the hill, we play tennis all the afternoon ; while from that blue plain below, where villages, low hills, and trees slip into a populous, vague distance, rise the aeroplanes, to circle and hum for us only, above our bright dresses, our green tennis court, our flying balls. Sometimes the wavering noise high in the air seems hardly to stir — sometimes with a dragon-like rush, and the liquid sound of machinery, the beautiful creature is over our heads and gone beyond the trees, flying low. This hill outside London, this lion on guard, has its tail steeped in the slums by the river, its crested, wooded head reared to bear our few houses, its flowing chest and fore-paws running down in a clear sweep of two miles to the plain below. Walk down that flowing chest, stand still upon the steep grass avenue, and something, some sound which must come from the bowels of the earth, strikes at your chest and back, hardly reaching the conscious, listening ears. Play tennis, run, shout on the green court, and it is the same — between the striking of the balls comes another stroke, a blow upon the brain, heart, head and back, something infinitely far, soft, enormous. The hill is haunted by a monster — the gay, bright women who run on its crest, walk in its woods, drink and eat from white-capped tables on its terraces, pause and say to each other — " Do you hear ? " The day is over, and each in our own wooded garden we sit in quieter dresses and watch the sky turn from green to blue in its effort to become night, the mist soak up through the trunks of the trees, cover and bury the villages, till the 90 REVEILLE night has walled us in. Outdoors the blow comes from the grass and travels through the soles of the feet — indoors the windows rattle in the frames. The evening is over, and while I would like to lie in dark- ness and remember nothing, something has caught the springs of the bed — a soft, sharp blow, and they respond with a shiver hardly to be felt. Again, and again, and again, until I sit up in bed, and lean over the sill into the garden and think — " When they stop I shall sleep. And then will the attack begin. . . ." The oak tree pressed against the wall of the house is like a cavern, from which all night something like water drops — its seeds, its broken twigs, the litter of the birds. It is a city full of birds, restless, and dreaming, uttering from time to time a short note as they dream. The sounding-board of the Hill has caught, and held for a moment, a heavier blow than usual, and I can hear voices from the window of the next room speaking softly out into the garden : " Did you hear that ?" We are all uncomfortable, restless, listening — our garden walls us in, the wistaria over the house-front sends up a warm smell, the stars and bats are out, the owls call with their soft, tunnelly sound — yet we are not happy, but pierced by some- thing : garden, hill, the flesh of the body, the heart within, all hurt by a remote, enveloping sound. Do they sleep, the women I saw all day, in other rooms, in other gardens on the Hill, now with their bright clothes flung over chairs, or hung in the darkness of cupboards — or are they listening as we are, each in her window, looking out at the dark air as the wives of fishermen look out upon the sea ? With every thud I know that in the darkness men are awake — human hands have worked the gun and sent out the tremble of noise — human bodies in the dark have played that charade we see in the camps here, a knot of men behind a gun, a dumb-show act. The amphitheatre of trees stands like the wings of a stage around the lawn, with here and there light gaps barred by tree trunks ; the sound breaks through it without dispersing the solidity. But a crazy noise waves through the night, the trees grow less sombre, more magical — thin, glamorous tones break into a song and sing without hesitation. The Flying Corps Mess next door have turned on their gramophone. OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL 91 Little gramophone, dispersing the silence ; little box of tricks evoking the flowers of our civilization — the cinema, the music hall, the footlights, the careful tapping dances, shining floors^rtificial light— oh, little gramophone with the heart of steel, full of pluck and tune, and thin, glorious defiance , . • what a part you have played for us, and for Them ! It is of no use for musicians to sigh and stop their ears and complain — over the people, the Army, you wave a wand, you make the heart swell and beat, you are romance, you are pleasure, you are London ! I can see them in little Messes along the line, men who sit in an earthen hole by a table spread with a newspaper, until one of them rises and, crossing over to you, sets you at your tricks afresh, fixes your needle, winds your handle. You mix yourself up with death — you are the light, treble accom- paniment of everlasting guns, the memory in the ear of that deafened man who has no other memory — you are sometimes glamour, sometimes romance. You are love. It is strange to think that man should carry such a thing back into the caves and holes of the ground to which war has sent him ; that the voice of his almost-forgotten glorious and monstrous cities should beat against the walls of earth and clay, under the open sky, where he lives now ; that the little box of screws, threads, wheels, disc and needle should tell such . a story of man's invention, his dingy jokes, his gaiety, his whirling mind, his incomprehensible speech, to such sur- roundings ; strange to see what is now a simple, muddy, smoke-blackened creature, sitting by the child of his mind — the box of tunes, fantastic, crazy, delicate, complicated. Something in the night is quieter. That far and monstrous J noise is broken up by the tin-kettle music filtering through the trees. As it is for me, so it is for Them. And when the gramophone too stops I think before I sleep, "Good-night, divine street-arab ! " (2) The Road down the Hill. There are days in the garden when it seems that nothing will ever exist except the present. The past plays so small a part in our lives. . . . 92 REVEILLE That great and humming hospital at the foot of the hill stands only nine months away from me, yet my memory cannot catch its voices, and when I meet the blue-clad figures up and down the road and on the common I feel that the tie I once thought existed between us is a legend. Yet, if very little endures, I have come to believe in a half-invented, intangible friendliness. There are often dis- charged men in the 'bus that passes the hospital who come back for massaee, or for some last attention, or to see their friends — I cannot help feeling (or pretending) that they would know me, and I them, were it not for all our pre-occupations. To-day the 'bus conductor had three wound stripes on his sleeve, and he wore the silver badge of discharge. His hands were black as his leather money-bag. Mine were as white as new white suede can make them, and I feared his fingers while I hunted in my lap for the penny. But when I found it I saw him proffer the tip of finger and thumb as though to take a grain of salt, and he picked the penny from my gloves without touching them. His intentions and my fears were on so delicate a subject that I couldn't even smile at him for fear of involving the honour of his hands. His three wounds have led him to know so many people like me, laugh at them, watch them work, watch them go off for half days and matinees, and for their sake he will treat my white gloves with tolerance and not with antagonism. He read my thoughts and I his without the light and speech of our eyes. What delicious, fragile intimacy between strangers ! « « « 4^ I remember that when I went down from the officers' ward to the men's ward I realized that among the officers there had been no community formed. There was no law among them. They were isolated kings ; it had been a ward of sick kings and princes. But to go down the stairs and along the corridor to the men was to go to the people : I went into a state of things that was a brotherhood without the machinery of brotherhood. A young discharged lieutenant once wrote to me : '* After the companionship of the men all other relations pale and become trite. I was a self-conscious, uneasy, envious boy, who OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL 93 never had felt the simplicity of friendship before. When I was with them care and competition and self-assertion dropped off me like a burden. If I had not joined with them in thinking France hell, in desiring English hedges and woods and country towns and market-places, in longing for leave, I should have thought that I had never felt such happiness in friendship before. But this is hell ... to come back first, without them, like a ghost among people who want to put me into the old life, to be unable to talk with old friends or new ones, because it seems they talk a dead language, and I a language not yet invented." In the hospital that sense of the true companionship of the men is very vivid; but beyond and behind the affection lies the puzzle. All are brooding over something and making nothing of it ; each bed contains a disturbance of soul, which in the simple man is darkness and bewilderment, and in his introspective brother sharpens to something more near despair. In each man something is shaken. At first, when they come in from the convoy drowsiness intervenes between them and the full sense of their emotion ; then, after some days, they wake to a sharper contact, and from tirne to time one can guess that behind the eye emotion is beginning to move like a river — the bruise begins to ache. Then, as we move about among them and ask them what they need ; as we bring them food and dress the wounds ; as their friends come to their bedside and talk furtively and inter- mittently to them, they begin to realize that what they have been through and what is still moving in them has isolated them. Later ^they seek an anodyne and try to fling themselves back into the old grooves, into the vaguer puzzlings that are not so deep and do not bring despair. A half-cynical pity rules their attitude towards the world. After having passed through death — and many of them have been at some time as certain of death as a condemned man is certain — after death, death on all sides, pity is born. But it is not the pity we know, the personal pity for another, the immediate flowering of an acute emotion for a friend which dies when that friend grows less pale, walks more steadily, sheds no more tears — but a pity which sees delusion in life, 94 REVEILLE sees life of little account ; a detached, painful pity, without warmth. I can see that it is not in itself a personal pity, through their attitude to suffering in the ward. The philosophy that they express expects much of sufferers. At the same time they extend the most personal sympathy as it were against their philosophy, against their experience, against the new knowledge in their souls — that knowledge of what life comes to after all, of the clay broken back into the mother clay, of the faces they have seen which are no more faces, of the beauty of young life, of its complete and absolute departure, and the shortness of memory. When a man dies in a ward a sort of stoicism revisits the men's faces ; it is as if they said : " We were slipping away from what we have learnt, we were beginning to believe in the importance of life, little day after little day was dragging us back into delusions. See, here's death again. Let us re- member not to put our feet back into the world on the old terms." ** Keeping a stiff upper lip " means keeping a soul which has refused to surrender itself wholly to life — refused to be dragged back among the flutterings, desires, and anxieties of life — a refusal the beauty of whose original impetus dies, and leaves something sullen, unpartaking, morose and dark in the man's soul. It was never a refusal of the mind but of the new nature — therefore it cannot be shared, cannot often be seen, except in such a place as a hospital, where, among so many who make the same, slight, indicating action, one is able to feel some settling in the direction of the wind. The discharged men in the 'buses are rather sad and shabby in the dark civilian clothes ; they no longer cut the handsome, gaudy figure of the man in blue ; there is no scarlet tie, only some chequered thing bought from the sly hand of the wicked merchant who causes crosses and checks to be designed in green upon liver-colour because he thinks we like it. They have lost the red, shining faces of the wounded : though the meals at the hospital were hated, with their eternal watery milk puddings, beef boiled to rags, and pale soups, yet OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL 95 now their faces have grown thinner with delicious meals helped out with pickles, eaten at odd times. They are anxious — they have come back to this happy, happy life ; they have thrown off discipline and routine ; they think again, work again, manage money again, make their own plans, seek their own work. They are anxious — they have acquired new thoughts, lost many old ambitions ; they are lonely because they belong neither to the civilian nor to the soldiery. They watch from the 'bus the dun-coloured men with burning faces who ride a string of horses in the road, whose gun kicks dun-coloured dust in a cloud, who shout and sweat, and wheel this way and that, and they think : " There is no more of that for us," and they are glad of it. But they are lonely. At home in the shop in the Old Kent Road, at the electrical engineer's, behind the counter at the big grocery department — working all day with men who say that prices are high, that the Government is this and that ; that food, food, food, is difficult to get ; that the moon is a horrible display of Nature ; that bombs grow bigger every time — they are lonely too. At home, with their wives, they are lonely. Oh ! how horrible it is to be a woman, and to be tired of hearing of the bad parts of war, to be shut out from knowing the part that was good. How horrible to be a busy woman, a food-grubbing, unfortunate woman, a wash-tub, rubbing, scrub- bing woman, and to have no time to crawl down those dark, winding paths after the man you care for, to discover and share his strange depressions, irritations, silence, loneliness. How horrible to be a busy woman and to cease to know where Arras is because your husband isn't there any longer. " I got 'im home. I don't go in for all them maps no more." That is love, the voice of love. But he has had his friends, he has seen something beautiful" and fraternal, known the pulse and action of men as you know the throb of the engine you drive ; and though when he was with them he shared fear and horror with them, though he wanted to get away before his body was opened by that metallic, common enemy, and his life drained for ever — still now that he has got away, alone, he finds that he is without them, and he is for ever watching them upon the paper of the map, a stranger to his wife, and lonely. 96 REVEILLE I see the discharged men leave the 'bus at the beautiful iron gates of the hospital, and watch them pass in, under the shadow and under the clock. 1 know, for 1 used to see it, what kind of interchange of envy goes on between the groups seated about the hot, dull wards, and the civilian "veteran" walking in with his silver badge. The wounded think : '' Going away out of here . . . walking away and taking a 'bus to his own dinner and his own girl. . . ." The '' veteran " thinks : '' Yes, all that . . . and I'm glad. But how they all talk together up there by the bathroom.' The wards are hot, but they look cool from the outside. From the top of the 'bus the blinded windows are pits of dark- ness and shadow. Inside there are twenty beds down one side, and twenty down the other — men sitting and talking on the wooden Windsor chairs as near the window as possible, waving to the 'bus as it passes down the road or toils up it, playing draughts and cards, and reading yoAn Bull, lulled and disarmed for the world by the creeping days of care-free routine. The '' veteran " thinks when he looks at them : "It was a wretched cramping life . . . endless monotony and pain. It was a life in a tunnel, and at the end of the tunnel we saw the blaze of 'discharge,' the promise of a man's free life." But free life is difficult, and bound life is easy. Was life before the war really so good .'* It seemed all right then. Was friendship before the war as close as it seemed '^. He remembers his friends — good enough friends — men he worked with at the works, or men who lived near him at home. They seemed all right then. Now they do not satisfy him. Has life shrunk, or has he grown ? Men who have been poured from the battlefield' into the hospital are like molten metal, and like molten metal they cool quickly and take strange shapes. Something has been born among the armies, something has been made solid in the hospitals. It is in vain to put on the old civilian suit when it is a strange wearer. Whatever war is, it separates the combatant from the non- combatant : they do not see alike, nor think alike, nor feel alike. OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL 97 It has just rained, and from the deep cutting below the holly hedge comes a sound like a rough brook of water — on and on and on. But there is no brook there — only the wet, b)ack road stained with blue oil-stains, and an endless tramp and patter of those hollow hoofs — the horses from the gunner camp, tied head and tail, head and tail, and after them the mules. Earlier in the war when they were taken out for exercise three were tied together and a soldier with bow legs and arms of iron rode one in every three. Now there are eight and nine tied head and tail between two knotted ropes, and a child with a red face and a uniform sits whistling on the first. Coming up the hill below the hedge the first horse of each nine seems to drag the other eight. His head is down, his legs are bent, his eye exasperated, like a hot woman who must run for the train while all her children drag at her legs and arms. The eight are all taken out for a walk at the expense of the first, and they look as though they were in a ** pram " instead of between ropes, They lean back on their ropes and look about them and sniff In a minute they will reach the top of the hill, tip over its crest, and drag on down to the bottom and past the hospital, kicking up a white dust, there where the road, untarred for two years, has dried more quickly. The white dust will rise in clouds, and once more drown the hospital butterflies which have just been born again to mark the begin- ning of another summer, will roll over the sills of the ward windows so that the men in the end beds will grumble and blink, and mutter something resigned, familiar, and endearing, which my ear cannot catch now. And my memory cannot invent it. In leaving the hospital one leaves the wounded; and I am now one of the tea-party women, the hostesses who walk about on lawns, offer little cups of tea, and make them play garden games. They will look at me as at some comic '* foreigner," and say little stiff things to me when they leave the garden. Once I thought I had an immortal freemasonry. But everything passes. 98 THE NIGHT CALL. By JEROME K, JEROME. Of all things under the shell-lit heavens, ihe aml^ulance driver dreads most the night call. He has left his car ready for starting off at a moment's notice. He has decided to risk not emptying his radiator, trusting the Lord will temper the frost to a poor shelterless machine. Not to seem to be asking too much, he has wrapped the engine up in rugs, and has fixed a lamp underneath the bonnet as far away as possible from the carburetter, trusting that here, likewise, Providence will do its share. He has gone over his tyres, fixed his switches, and piled up his stretchers. Then he has groped his way through the mud and stumbled down the steps into his dug-out. It rather suggests a ready-made grave. The smell is decidedly suggestive, and cases have been known He con- cludes he will think about something else ; and with the log-fire burning, the guttering candle shedding radiance from the neck of an empty wine-bottle, and the eggs and bacon frizzling cheerfully upon the Primus, his spirits rise. It might be worse. The dug-out is quite dry in parts, and the smoke is making it warm. He eats his supper hurriedly, his ears strained in •anxious tension for the sound of a descending footstep. He is determined to get that dish of eggs and bacon inside him, call or no call. If the gods are good to him, he gets through un- disturbed. If he is a tidy man — it cannot be said of him always — he washes up and puts his things in order for the morning. That done, with perhaps a glass of wine beside him (the label on the bottle tells him it is " Medoc sup^rieur," and he wonders what the '* inferieur " would taste like), he lights his pipe, and stretches out his legs towards the blaze. War has its peace ! Pierre, his aide, is certain to have found a long- lost cousin somewhere in the trenches, and to be spending a jovial evening among muffled song and story. There is no need even to talk. A low, deep booming penetrates to him THE NIGHT CALL . 99 through the six feet of earth above his head ; ceaseless, dull, monotonous, not altogether unmusical. It might be the ethereal drums of some Olympian concert at which the gods sit drinking. He is used to the sound. It rather soothes him. Also, at times, there reaches him a strange faint pattering of feet. Patter, patter, patter it goes, with now and then a little shuffling and rumbling as if children in an upstairs nursery were playing some voiceless game. All night long it comes and goes, that patter, patter, patter of the voiceless children's feet. The candle burns low. Nothing seems to be happening. He will go to bed. He slings his stretcher in the corner where there seems to be least drippings, and throws a fresh log upon the fire. He takes off his boots and leggings, puts them where his feet will mechanically find them should he have to fling himself from his hammock in the dark ; takes off his tunic and hangs it on a nail and then climbs in. A prayer escapes him as he tucks the rugs about him, that no French soldier may suffer hurt this night — anyhow, no poor fellow belonging to this particular detachment. Others must pray for themselves. He blows out the candle, undoes a few buttons and stretches himself out luxuriously. A rat drops from some- where on to the table, and catching his eye, becomes im- movable. By the light of the smouldering logs they look at one another. He tries to remember whether he really did put everything eatable into a tin with a heavy weight on top of it. Even then they work the covers off somehow — clever little devils. Anyhow, he is not going to get out of bed again. Perhaps the little beggar will be satisfied with the candle. He turns his head to the wall. Suddenly, he is up again. A foot- step is stumbling along the wooden gangway. It is coming nearer. He holds his breath. The gods be praised, it passes. With a sigh of relief he lies down again and closes his eyes. The next moment — or so it seems to him — a light is flashing in his eyes. A bearded, blue-coated figure is speaking to him. Ambulance to start immediately! The bearded figure under its blue iron helmet kindly lights the candle, the rat having providentially found something more tasty, and departs heavily up the steps. He struggles half unconsciously into his clothes, just remembers his electric torch, and follows two minutes later up the steps. Pierre is already grinding away at TOO REVEILLE the handle, and becoming exhausted. He brushes him aside and takes his turn, and with the twentieth swing — there- abouts she answers with a sudden roar as of some drowsy- animal awakened from its slumbers. And Pierre, who has been cursing her with all the oaths of Gascony, pats her on the bonnet and is almost amorous. A shadowy group emerges apparently from the ground. A shrouded figure comes forward. Two stretchers and three assis is the tale. The stretchers are hoisted up and fitted swiftly into their hangings. Out of the blackness of the night Ambulance Driver, Section lo, can easily see those white, silent faces. The three assis mount slowly and shuffie painfully into their places. Rifles and knapsacks are piled up beside them, and the doors are clanged-to. Another "case " is to be picked up on the way — at Champ Cambon. You take the first road on the left after passing the ruins of the Ferme de Foret, and the camp is just beyond the level crossing. It seems you cannot miss it. And Ambulance Driver, Section lo, climbs into his seat. Where the high dash-board ends and the night begins, he cannot tell. It looks all one to him. Out of the trees and upon the road it will be easier. Trusting to memory, he gently — very gently lets in the clutch, and the ponderous car creeps forward. Let him think : there was a bend to the right, and then, a dozen yards further you came to the narrow — confoundedly narrow — bridge of planks across the stream. Was it a dozen yards ? Suppose it turns out to be only ten ! " A droite I " cries Pierre suddenly, and the car just scrapes past an unseen tree. Pierre is standing on the step peering down on the ground. *' Gauche, gauche ! " he cries again in an alarmed whisper as the front wheels mount the flimsy bridge. They seem to be finding it of their own accord. There is a foot to spare on either side, but only a foot. They seem to know it. Cautiously the car creeps over It. The back wheels sink into the mud beyond. Thank the Lord, that's over ! Still he cannot see the road ; but he knows that for a couple of kilometres it is dead straight, cutting the forest like a knife. So long as he keeps in the centre of the strip of sky above his head, he is safe. Unfortunately, it will wobble. Now, on one side of him, it almost disappears. Correcting this, it widens with alarming swiftness. The twin, and quite ridiculously THE NIGHT CALL loi deep ditches, that he remembers on each side of the road seem to be calling to him as with the voice of some muddy Lorelei. He expects every moment to find himself with Pierre either on top of him or under him, and to hear the cries and groans oi the heaped-up wounded behind him. ** Ar^^etez I ' cries Pierre suddenly. He thinks he has detected something that might be the ruins of a farm ; a dog begins to howl. In their present frame of mind, the sound strikes them as cheerful. They descend and grope their way up a side road, ankle deep in slush. It certainly might have been a farm. So also it might have been a brickfield ; but the farm is the more probable. They decide it is the farm. Things seem to be shaping well. Now all they have to do is to look out for a road on the left. Yes, here is undoubtedly a road. They turn down it. The wheels will find the railway crossing for them, in case they do not see it. The descent appears to be steep. The car begins to jump and jolt. " Doucefnent, camarade — doucement I " comes an agonized cry from within. Pierre opens the little window and explains that it cannot be helped. It is a mauvazse route, and there is silence. The route becomes more and more mauvaise. Is it a road, or are they lost ? And will they ever be able to get up again ? Every minute the car seems as if it were about to stand on its head. Ambulance Driver, Section lo, recalls grim stories of the mess-room — of nights spent beside a mud-locked car, of cars overturned — their load of dying men mingled in a ghastly heap of writhing limbs. In spite of the damp, chill night, a cold sweat breaks out all over him. Heedless of Pierre's remonstrances, he switches on his electric torch and flashes it downwards. Yes, it is a road, of sorts ; chiefly of shell-holes apparently. The car crashes in and out of them. If the axles do not break, they may get down. They do not break, by some miracle. Pierre gives a whoop of joy as the car straightens herself out. They have reached the level, and the next moment they bump over the crossing and hear the welcome voice of a sentry. The blessd is found after some searching. It seems he was playing icartd. They cannot help feeling indignant that it is not a worse case, but are relieved at hearing that they neejd not return up the hill again. There is a mist in the valley and it will be fairly safe to take the lower road. Had I02 REVEILLE Ambulance Driver, Section lo, been more experienced he would not have welcomed that mist. The road through the forest was dark, but there was the sky to guide him. This chill mist is like a damp sheet wrapped round his head. He strains his eyes till they seem to be coming out of their sockets. Shadows move towards him, and vanish ; but whether they were men or trees or houses he cannot tell. Suddenly he jams on his breaks and starts up. It is clear enough this time, a huge towering shape — a munition wagon most likely — drawn by a team of six giant horses. They are rearing and plunging all round him. But no sound comes from them. Pierre has sprung to the ground and is shouting. Where is their driver ? The whole thing has vanished. They listen ; all is silence. Pierre climbs up again and they break into a loud laugh. But why did Pierre see it too ? They crawl along on bottom gear and then comes a bump and a low crashing. Even the torch is useless a yard in front of them. They find by feeling that they are up against a door. Fortunately the back wheels are still on the road, so that they can right themselves. But it seems useless going on. Suddenly Pierre dives beneath the car and emerges puffing a cigarette. He dances with delight at his own cleverness. He holds the lighted cigarette behind his back and walks jauntily forward, feeling the road with his feet. Ambulance Driver, Section lo, drives on following the tiny spark. Every now and then the invisible Pierre puffs the cigarette, covered by his hand, and it reappears with a brighter glow. After a tin%e the mist rises and Pierre bursts into song and remounts. A mile or so farther on they reach the barrier, but decide not to light up. Their eyes are in training now, and had better not be indulged ; it will spoil them for the journey back. They are both singing different tunes when they arrive at the clearing hospital. *' Have any trouble ? " asks a fellow-driver from another sector, who has just discharged his load and is drawing on his gloves. ••The mist was a bit trying," answers Section lo. **We had to come round by Champ Cambon." '•Nasty bit of road, that, down the hill," agrees the other. *• So long ! " I03 POIROT AND BIDAN. A Recollection. By JOHN GALSWORTHY. Coming one dark December evening out of the hospital court- yard into the corridor which led to my little workroom, I was conscious of two new arrivals. There were several men round the stove, but these two were sitting apart on a bench close to my door. We used to get men in all stages of decrepitude, but I had never seen two who looked so completely under the weather. They were the extremes — in age, in colouring, in figure, in everything ; and they sat there, not speaking, with every appearance of apathy and exhaustion. The one was a boy, perhaps nineteen, with a sunken, hairless, grey-white face under his peaked cap — never surely was face so grey ! He sat with his long grey-blue overcoat open at the knees, and his long emaciated hands nervously rubbing each other between them. Intensely forlorn he looked, and I remember thinking : " That boy's dying ! " This was Bidan. The other's face, in just the glimpse I had of it, was as if carved out of wood, except for that something you see behind the masks of driven bullocks, deeply resentful. His cap was off, and one saw he was grey-haired ; his cheeks, stretched over cheekbones solid as door-handles, were a purplish red, his grey moustache was damp, his light blue eyes stared like a codfish's. He reminded me queerly of those Parisian cocker's one still sees under their shining hats, with an expression of being your enemies. His short stocky figure was dumped stolidly as if he meant never to move again ; on his thick legs and feet he wore mufflings of cloth boot, into which his patched and stained grey-blue trousers were tucked. One of his gloved hands was stretched out stiff on his knee. This was Poirot. Two more dissimilar creatures were never blown together I04 REVEILLE into our haven. So far as I remember, they had both been in hospital about six months, and their ailments were, roughly speaking, Youth and Age. Bidan had not finished his training when his weak constitution gave way under it ; Poirot was a Territorial who had dug behind the Front till rheumatism claimed him for its own. Bidan, who had fair hair and rather beautiful brown eyes over which the lids could hardly keep up, came from Aix-en-Provence, in the very south ; Poirot from Nancy, in the north-east. I made their acquaintance the next morning. The cleaning of old Poirot took, literally speaking, days to accomplish. Such an encrusted case we had never seen ; nor was it possible to go, otherwise than slowly, against his prejudices. One who, unless taken exactly the right way, considered everyone leagued with Nature to get the better of him, he had reached that state when the soul sticks its toes in and refuses to budge. A coachman, in civil life — a socialist, a freethinker, and wit, he was the apex of — shall we say ? — determination. His moral being was encrusted with perversity, as his poor hands and feet with dirt. Oil was the only thing for him, and I, for one, used oil on him morally and physically, for months. He was a ''character" ! His left hand, which he was never tired of saying the " majors " had ruined — " Ah ! les cochons /" — by leaving it alone, was stiff in all its joints, so that the fingers would not bend ; and the little finger of the right hand, '' le petit,'' '' le coquijt,'' '' Tempereur,'' as he would severally call it, was embellished by chalky excrescences. The old fellow had that peculiar artfulness which comes from life- long dealing with horses, and he knew exactly how far and how quickly it was advisable for him to mend in health. About the third day he made up his mind that he wished to remain with us at least until the warm weather came. For that it would be necessary — he concluded — to make a cheering amount of progress, but not too much. And this he set himself to do. He was convinced, one could see, that after Peace had been declared and compensation assured him, he would recover the use of his hand, even if '' I'empereur'' remained stiff and chalky. As a matter of fact, I think he was mistaken, and will never have a supple left hand again. But his arms were so brawny, his constitution so vigorous, and POIROT AND BIDAN 105 his legs improved so rapidly under the necessity of taking him down into the little town for his glass, of an afternoon, that one felt he might have been digging again sooner than he intended. ''Ah, les coc/ions /" he would say ; " while one finger does not move, they shall pay me ! " He was very bitter against all ''majors'' save one, who it seemed had actually sympathized with him, and all ddputds^ who for him constituted the powers of darkness, drawing their salaries, and sitting in their chairs. " Ah ! les cochons f Ah ! les chameaux I " Though he was several years younger than oneself, one always thought of him as ** Old Poirot " ; indeed he was soon called ^' le grand'pere'' though no more confirmed bachelor ever inhabited the world. He was a regular " Miller of Dee," caring for nobody ; and yet he was likeable, that humorous old stoic, who suffered from gall-stones, and bore horrible bouts of pain like a hero. In spite of all his disabilities his health and appearance soon became robust in our easy-going hospital, where no one was harried, the food excellent, and the air good. He would tell you that his father lived to eighty and his grandfather to a hundred — both "strong men," though not so strong as his old master, the squire, of whose feats in the hunting-field he would give one staggering accounts in an argot which could only be followed by instinct. A great narrator, he would describe at length life in the town of Nancy, where, when the war broke out, he was driving a market cart, and distributing vegetables, which had made him an authority on municipal reform. Though an incorrigible joker, his stockfish countenance would remain perfectly grave, except for an occasional hoarse chuckle. You would have thought he had no more power of compassion than a cat, no more sensibility than a Chinese idol ; but this was not so. In his wooden, shrewd, distrustful way he responded to sympathy, and was even sorry for others. I used to like very much his attitude to the young *' stable-companion " who had arrived with him ; he had no contempt, such as he might have felt for so weakly a creature, but rather a real indulgence towards his feebleness. "Ah!" he would say at first, "he won't make old bones — that one ! " But he seemed extremely pleased when, in a fortnight or so, he had to modify that view, for « io6 • REVEILLE Bidan (Prosper), progressed more rapidly even than himself. That grey look was out of the boy's face within three weeks. It was wonderful to watch him come back to life, till at last he could say, with his dreadful Provencal twang, that he felt ''ires biang!' A most amiable youth ; he had been a cook, and his chief ambition was to travel till he had attained the summit of mortal hopes, and was cooking at the Ritz in London. When he came to us his limbs seemed almost to have lost their joints, they wambled so. He had no muscle at all. Utter anaemia had hold of all his body, and all but a corner of his French spirit. Round that unquenchable gleam of gaiety the rest of him slowly rallied. With proper food and air and freedom, he began to have a faint pink flush in his china-white cheeks ; his lids no longer drooped, his limbs seemed to regain their joints, his hands ceased to swell, he complained less and less of the pains about his heart. When, of a morning, he was finished with, and '' le grand-pere'' was having his hands done, they would engage in lively repartee — oblivious of one's presence. We began to feel that this grey ghost of a youth had been well named, after all, when they called him Prosper, so lyrical would he wax over the constitution and cooking of ** bouillabaisse," over the South, and the buildings of his native Aix-en-Provence. In all France you could not have found a greater contrast than those two who had come to us so under the weather ; nor in all France two better instances of the way men can regain health of body and spirit in the right surroundings. We had a tremendous fall of sriow that winter, and had to dig ourselves out of it. Poirot and Bidan were of those who dug. It was amusing to watch them. Bidan dug easily, without afterthought. '' Le grand-pere " dug, with half an eye at least on his future ; in spite of those stiff fingers he shifted a lot of snow, but he rested on his shovel whenever he thought you could see him — for he was full of human nature. To see him and Bidan set off for town together ! Bidan pale, and wambling a little still, but gay, with a kind of bird- like detachment ; '' le grand-pere " stocky, wooden, planting his huge feet rather wide apart and regarding his companion, the frosted trees, and the whole wide world, with his humorous stare. POIROT AND BIDAN 107 Once, I regret to say, when spring was beginning to come, Bidan-Prosper returned on '*/? grand-{>ere s " arm with the utmost difficulty, owing to the presence within him of a liquid <:alled Clairette de Die, no amount of which could subdue ** /e grand per e' s " power of planting one foot before the other. Bidan-Prosper arrived hilarious, revealing to the world unsuspected passions ; he awoke next morning sad, pale, penitent. Poirot, au contraire^ was morose the whole evening, and awoke next morning exactly the same as usual. In such different ways does the gift of the gods affect us. They had their habits, so diverse, their constitutions, and their dreams — alas ! not yet realized. I know not where they may be now ; but Bidan-Prosper cannot yet be cooking at the Ritz in London town; nor '' grand- per e'' Poirot distributing again his vegetables in the streets of Nancy, driving his two good little horses — des gaillards — with the reins hooked round ^' Teinpereurr Good friends — good luck I io8 EXPERIENCES. (I) Where Blind Soldiers Learn to See. I FIRST heard of St. Dunstan's when crossing the North Sea in a hospital ship, after my release from captivity in Germany. I had been given a champagne supper on board to celebrate my release — the first time that I ever remember having drunk champagne in bed. A R.A.M.C. Sergeant came to my bedside with the inevitable form to fill up, and I am afraid I did not answer his interrogations with that solemn dignity which his official tone seemed to expect. " Your name, sir ^ " " So and so." ** Regiment, sir } *' ** So and so.' " Rank, sir } " " So and so." ** Nature of wound, sir ? " " Bullet through my head.*' *• Gunshot wound through head." "Same thing. Sergeant." " Any operations performed, sir 1 " " I have had my right eye taken out." ** Right eye excised. Any disability, sir t " " Blind in one eye." " Then you can see with the other, sir .^ " "No." ** Then you must be blind in both eyes, sir ? " " No, I'm only blind in one eye." "How can that be, sir? " " Sergeant, I have only got one eye ! " Then he became human. "You fairly caught me there, sir. I'm very sorry you've EXPERIENCES 109 lost your sight, sir. You ought to try and get sent to St. Dunstan's." '•Why, what kind of a place is St. Dunstan's, Sergeant ?" " Don't know, sir, but Tve heard they do wonderful things there. I've even heard them say they make the blind see." That was how I first got to know of St. Dunstan's. But I did not have to put in any application to be sent there, for Sir Arthur Pearson himself came to see me directly I arrived home. I make a confession. Before I met Sir Arthur I had a notion in my head that St. Dunstan's was a sort of blind asylum where blind people sat miserably in corners and made baskets, while idle visitors murmured '* Poor fellow ! " and left tracts on the blind man whose soul must be saved. Whatever ideas I had of that kind were quickly dispelled by Sir Arthurs visit. I told him I wasn't going to be a blind man — I was going back to my business, to carry on as though nothing had happened. •' Good! " said he. ** That's just what I've done, but you must first learn to read and write, so as to get a feeling of independence in your work. Come along to St. Dunstan's and I'll show you how." And I went, still a little sceptical. The sergeant must surely have been right when he said they taught the blind to see. When I entered the front door and went down the corridor there were a lot of fellows walking about whistling and making fun of each other ; one came towards me singing " Tipperary " at the top of his voice and turned off to the right up a passage. Something touched my shoulder ever so lightly. I asked my escort what it was. *' Oh, it's one of the blind soldiers carrying a plank of wood on his shoulder to the carpentering room." They were all blinded soldiers. I was no longer sceptical. If one could learn to see to do that in a crowded passage without one's sight, I also could learn to see. That is how I come to be tapping these lines on the type- writer to-day, and it does not occur to me that I cannot see the keys as I write. H. Gilbert Nobbs (Captain). no REVEILLE (II) In HospitaL When first I lay in hospital there were long periods when I could hardly determine that I had feelings. I had a pretty severe wound, and, as often happens, the shock acted as an anesthetic, both physically and mentally. Though always conscious, and only slightly delirious at rare intervals, I existed much of the time in a dull and not discontented state of mind, incapable of receiving acute impressions, at any rate, for long. One worried but little. There was the feeling that one had come to a full stop for the present, and that the future was a long way off. That future could be thought about when it got a little nearer ; as for the present, one had made some sort of a try at doing what one had set out to do, and there was nothing but just to take things as they came. Though nothing much mattered. These were the things which worried me when I did have worries : I had believed I was doing the only possible thing in joining up — it had seemed an absolutely clear case, and nothing that happened to oneself would matter, if, before that happen- ing, one had taken some part in putting things right. Well, I had been knocked out inside of a month, without sharing in anything which seemed to lead anywhere. That worried me. I hated leaving the battalion, and all my friends, too — felt like a deserter, in fact. Then I began to wonder if I had been quietly "shelved" as being unfit to take part in a fight for such a cause. I was quite unhappy about this, at intervals. But later, this mood alternated with one of strong personal resent- ment against whomsoever had ordained that I should be put out of action, before I had had a chance to try and "make good." Yet more often again I felt there was a good reason at the back of things, and that it would appear later. For I was quite sure that I was meant to stop that bullet. By the accident of a wrong address, I did not hear from my people ; that worried me a lot. I began to feel very left indeed. The people round were ready to do everything in their power for one ; my fellow-patients were friendly, though mosdy too badly knocked about to talk much — (there was no complaining) — but I had lost my regiment, and belonged nowhere as a thing of use, and was lonely. EXPERIENCES 1 1 1 Then came the time for another operation, and I was rather flat by then. I didn't really care whether I pulled throug^h or not. But I took the sudden notion that I had to make a will, and leave the two or three personal trifles I had stuck to, which were on a shelf by my bed. I had little pain for several weeks, till complications set in, though in common with everyone else I didn't look forward to hearing the "dressings" table start to roll round the ward. The idea came at times that I was pretty much in the position of an animal in a steel trap, with a broken leg ; and I had set many traps in the old days. Decided that I would trap no more, if those were the sensations. We used to take a certain amount of interest in the news, but I don't think many worried about the final outcome of the war, or doubted what it would be — whatever setbacks might happen first. One found out sometimes that so-and-so was troubled about his family and what would happen to them, but he would not complain on his own account. Self-pity was not apparent, but one heard badly damaged men speak sympathetically of another whom they considered worse than themselves. And sometimes he whom they were pitying was feeling these to be much worse than himself all the time, and being sorry for them. Most men, whether they would have to start entirely afresh in life or not, were evidendy made up to make the best of things, and at any rate did not mean to show the white feather. In the hospital in France one seldom heard much talk about experiences at the Front. Later, in England, when pebple felt better and were more inclined to talk, one heard a little, but not much. One man would tell another what had happened in some sector they both knew, since his hearer had left,, or might tell in a few words what he had seen in such and such an action, but there was seldom any general discussion. One man, about the only one who talked "war " to any extent, was looked on as a nuisance, and "taken off" as soon as he opened his mouth. A good many people think that the average soldier is inclined to pose a bit ; he is almost forced to sometimes, usually against his will. But if they heard him in the ward, mimicking 112 REVEILLE his well-meaning admirers on the '* wounded 'ero " topic, they might change their minds. The worst times were at night. During the day, though sleeping a little by fits and starts, one took a good deal of dull interest in what went on around — the work of the ward, the new arrivals of the night before, the latest improvisation of one of the doctors (who were sometimes short of proper appliances), the man a few beds off, who had been made a " monkey on a stick " (given a Balkan splint) and was performing on it, and occasional visitors. There was the gramophone — much beloved by those who did not want to sleep — and once or twice a visitor would bring in a violin. And that visitor could play ! But at night, when the lights were down, and one couldn't sleep, or between sleeping and waking watched curious and impossible things happening in the ward, it was different. One didn't want to disturb the others, but the temptation to call the Orderly or Night Sister to bring a drink, chiefly for the sake of having a word with someone, was pretty strong. And the convoys used to come in at night. The ward might be almost empty for days, and then in one night every bed would fill up, and there would be men lying in the corridors, and sitting by twos or threes on the beds, waiting for their turn to be dressed, and sent on elsewhere. Those were not good nights. The noise of ambulances rolling up outside, and stretcher parties tramping in, seemed endless. And the almost soundless bustle that went on for hours after the new men had come in and the noise had stopped, was almost as bad. The staff were splendid. Often worked to the limit of endurance, they practically never showed a sign of irritation — just did what they could for everyone, and never fussed. In the General Hospital to which I went later, though there was little to complain of, there was a certain amount of unnecessary red tape, and a man was made to feel rather more of a '* case." In the Military Hospital in France red tape was conspicuous by its absence, though things were in order, just the same, and one felt human all the time. No fuss, but straightforward friendliness and common-sense. Everyone was a friend, from the Major who operated on one to the Orderly who scrubbed EXPERIENCES 113 the floor. One couldn't be there many days before feeling more or less at home. The German prisoners felt it too. They were all together, at my end of the ward ; at first very suspicious of everyone, and not a little scared. But they soon found they were treated no worse than anyone else — if some of us were not exactly cordial, none were actively hostile — and they cheered up no end. My next neighbour, at any rate, was sorry when the time came to be moved on elsewhere, and quite hurt when a Sister refused his one remaining valuable, a ring, which he offered as a ** souvenir." He used to want to share any extra delicacy that came his way with me, I think because I used to wish him " Guten Moro-en " — about all the German 1 knew. If a German prisoner was put in a ward with our wounded nowadays he might perhaps *' feel a draught " ; people are less inclined to consider them human than they were. But our fellows are still poor haters. Most men look forward intensely to getting back to *' Blighty," but I can't say I did, very much. I had been out of England many years, and was neither glad nor sorry to go. Everything that had happened since 1 got my knock-out seemed inevitable. It was long before that feeling weakened at all, and it has not died yet. The loss of the leg seemed quite in the natural course of things, rather a nuisance, but not worth bothering about. After my third time '*on the table " the Major came and sat on the end of my bed and began to break the news of the condition my leg was in, as gently as a man well could. I interrupted, and said I knew what he was driving at, and why hadn't he gone ahead, and taken the leg off, without asking me? He was a man one could absolutely trust, and if I had come out of the anaesthetic and found the leg gone, I should never have questioned his decision. I do not think I should have felt it as a shock at all; it would just have seemed the inevitable. The convalescent period is the worst part of hospital life to a good many, though others succeed apparently in putting off the bad time till they're discharged ; but neither kind talks about it, as a rule. It begins to dawn on one clearly that life has to be>faced under entirely new conditions, and that personal freedom and independence are things of the past to a great extent. One doesn't grudge this — i have never regretted the 8 114 REVEILLE initial step that led to hospitals, &c., but periods of depression are inevitable, with the majority, at any rate. No one that I have had as a ward mate has owned to funking the future, and very many really did not, I am sure. Some would own to difficulties' ahead, but they meant to make the best of things, and most — even the amputation cases — had a post reserved for them, or the promise of help to get them a suitable post, not always kept. Double amputation cases were usually together, needing more personal attention than the others. The general impression among '' single " amputation cases was that a " double " was pretty well *' napooed." One woke in the early morning and heard them discussing it, and I have had people come and tell me so — by way of something cheerful to say, I suppose. I did not agree with them, having not the slightest intention of consigning myself to the dust-bin, but it was a bit oppressive. And well-meaning people would come along and say : " You had better do this or that," as if it was the most natural thing in the world to take to the bench, after being condemned to the galleys for life ; they jarred on fellows whose sense of proportion and whose balance were still the worse for wear. Those were the sort of thoughts we had when we were '* blue " ; but at the best of times it was difficult to look ahead, and the best I could do was to tackle the present, and things as they came (which still seemed inevitable, as at first), with as good a heart as possible. I hoped to get some work or other in connection with the war ; not much caring what the work might be. But I did not seem able to look beyond that. Enough! All we crocks are rather sensitive about our physical deformities and scars, and want to cover them up, and it is the same with our mental ones. But I will say this : Army and hospital life have been revelations. Of my fellows I have not met more than two — and they had their good points — who really jarred on me. There were all sorts and conditions, but I've come away with better faith in human nature than I had before, and a Jot of conceit knocked out. Nil Desperandum. EXPERIENCES 115 (III) Re-training Crippled Men. After nearly two years workinor amongst mutilated ex-service men, the following remarks embody some lessons I have learnt, in helping them to train for their future. What the men require themselves is not always what others wish for them. Re-training for those who cannot follow their old occupation is not compulsory, and I am convinced that if men are to accept re-training voluntarily their own point of view must have the first claim to consideration. At one time I did not favour compulsory training for our men, but I have now formed the opinion that once a man has undertaken training, he should — after a period of practical test — sign a contract to complete his course, provided his physical condition permits. Many assert that the men are unwilling to undertake train- ing. I have found no such disinclination. They do require at first much encouragement and persuasion, but the uprooting they have been subjected to quite accounts for this temporary indecision. If advised kindly and firmly, with no glossing over what awaits them in the future, they will undertake training and continue it gladly. But it must be worth while^ in no hole-and- corner make-believe fashion, and definite prospects put before them, and no time should transpire betiveen their beginning training and conti7itiing it to its next stage. In our hospital the patients are all of them men who have lost limbs and are sent for necessary operations and con- valescence. The sooner they are tackled about their future the better. Hospitals such as this afford many forms of pleasure, and so much is done for the men that they are liable to postpone serious thought of the future until they are discharged. Army life has made many of them very idle, and they require much rousing out of themselves, especially if they have spent a long time in hospital, and become "hospitalized." Card playing is the most formidable hindrance ; once a man has got into a group of gamblers, he can only be got out of it by fatherly kindness and firmness. Well-paid employment, too, can be almost certainly found now, and one needs to be a good advocate to make them ii6 REVEILLE realize that it's only temporary, especially when they hear from former hospital mates of the wages being paid. I strongly approve of the establishment of national work- shops run entirely on a commercial basis. I am certain scores of these men will not be able to follow a trade in competition with men who are not handicapped ; for they are easily made to feel their disability, more especially those with double or high amputations, and they readily get discouraged. In con- nection with such national workshops, provision should also be made for giving the men comfortable homes. I am confident they will not accept any kind of institutional treatment in their non-working hours. There has always been a great demand for such training as would enable them to live outdoor lives. But I fear they will not take to small holdings. Small holdings mean very hard work early and late. A good-sized garden to their house will give these men quite as much to do as they will feel disposed to undertake. For those interesting themselves in this work I describe my method of procedure. As soon as the man arrives I visit him and get to know his position and what he hopes to do. If he can follow his former occupation I do not take any further action. In other cases, so soon as the doctors have decided upon his medical requirements, we go into details. A knowledge of character reading is very helpful at this stage. We mutually agree on a class, and the man is expected to make a weekly attendance of eighteen hours out of a possible twenty-two. The first few days are the most trying ; if he gets through these we usually succeed in keeping him in training for the whole time he is in the hospital. Allowance must be made for the many calls on his time by doctors, nurses, &c. It is impos- sible to follow a set syllabus at this stage, since most of his medical requirements have to be attended to in class hours. This period is really a trial stage, saving valuable time, after the fitting of the limb, in training for the trade he has decided on. He next passes from here to Roehampton to be fitted with a mechanical limb, and if time permits continues the training there. On discharge from Roehampton, final arrangements are made for him with his Local War Pensions Committee for \ EXPERIENCES 117 the return to civil life and the continuance of his training under more stringent conditions. This is the psychological moment, and // is of the utmost importance that he should be able to take up his next course at once under very favourable conditions. If allowed to drift at this point it is so easy for him to fall back into idle habits and all the former part of the training is lost. Unbounded enthusiasm is needed here to keep up this partial training of men, since they are passing on at the rate ot about twenty per week from the classes, and new men fill their places. A very large proportion of men choose the Commercial Training Section, and I always encourage this when there is an obvious disadvantage to their taking up a technical trade. We do not seek to create cheap clerks, but any man, whatever form of occupation he finally decides on, is the better for such knowledge as can be gained here. We endeavour, in fact, to give them a higher form of education than they previously had. The course embraces book-keeping, accountancy, speech culture, and a detailed knowledge of things that matter in business life. Those men formerly employed as grocers or ironmongers' assistants serving behind the counter, have gained a practical knowledge of these trades, and been trained — even if they have lost an arm — to creditably fill the posts of travellers or secretaries in these same trades. Undeveloped talent is frequently coming to light, and in some cases a short course brings out latent quality to a remarkable degree. Instructors, however, require to be specially fitted for this work. They must have ability to lecture as well as to -instruct. Healthy sympathy expressed with firm purpose is a great help in maintaining interest, but on no account any show of patronage — it will be resented. I have recently sent a letter to 200 men (addressed to their own homes) who commenced their training here, asking for information on the following questions : — (i) The firm you are now working for. (2) The position you hold with the firm. (3) Your remuneration. Over 100 replies have been received to date, and these in every case give great cause for encouragement, and will help us to keep up the necessary enthusiasm. ii8 REVEILLE The trades we specialize in here are : Commercial subjects, motor mechanics, metal fitting and turning, electrical engi- neering, cinema operating, cabinet making, turnery and joinery, boot and shoe repairing and making, tailoring, mechanical draughtsmanship, carving and letter cutting, stained-glass work, designing, and others. In dealing very intimately with i,ioo men I am proud to state that on no single occasion has there been any necessity to rebuke one of them. I have never had an unkind word said to me, and any advice I have tried to give has been thankfully acted on. It is a great privilege t6 be associated with such men. A. G. Baker (Superintendent of Queen Mary's Workshops, Brighton). 119 THE TASK OF A LOCAL WAR PENSIONS COMMITTEE. By ALFRED SEYMOUR JONES, J.P., F.R.M.S. (Chairman, -Denbighshire War Pensions Finance Committee.) In the Training Section Meeting of the Inter-allied Conference on the Disabled, held this year in London, I spoke on the problem of the psychology of the disabled men in the war, and outlined the experience gained in this direction by the Denbighshire Local War Pensions Committee. The Editor of Reveille has invited me to express my views in writing. I feel strongly that the difficulties confronting many other Local War Pensions Committees would be overcome if there was the universal endeavour to appreciate the psychology of the disabled man who appears before them. It should be realized that the man's pre-war mentality has undergone a revolutionary change. He has laboured long in the trenches and been subjected to the most terrible explosions, to gas, wet, and what not else. He traversed daily the ** valley of the shadow of death " until the hour came when he sustained his injury. The horrors of that moment and the loss of his chums who went " down the vale ' will always be a present memory. He remembers the hell, the carnage, and the cruel wounds inflicted on others, the casualty clearing station, the journey to *' Blighty," the weary months in military hospitals, and through all blesses the devotion of his nurses. Then a medical board discharges him — still far from being cured — to the charge of the Ministry of Pensions. From the time he sustained his wound until he is finally discharged he has known little human sympathy and kindness save from the devoted and over-worked army of doctors and nurses. He leaves the Service with queer feelings as to the soullessness of the life therein. It may be he feels friendless, with his old occupation gone and the future full of forebodings. His nerves are I20 REVEILLE wrecked. His mind thinks down instead of up hill. His imagination is beyond his control and persists in conjuring up delusions which depress and distort the true position. He may be a married man with a family ; his health and vigour are gone ; he has possibly an inadequate pension, all allow- ances have been stopped ; he turns as his last hope to his Local War Pensions Committee. This is the average difficult subject with whom we have to deal. And if I oudine our methods of handling the more serious cases, it may serve as a guide. The Denbighshire Local War Pensions Committee office staff is a paid service, except in a few cases where men have been ordered by a tribunal to put in so many hours per week National Service with us. The success of every Committee lies in securing a Secretary full of enthusiasm for the work ; sympathetic^ hard working, not sparing himself ; well versed in the regulations, with good knowledge and experience of administrative work, and plenty of initiative, and constructive, ability. That type of man we are most fortunate in having. Under him are a paid staff of experienced men and women who interview every discharged man, disabled or not, and the wives, mothers, and other female dependants. The mornings are set aside for interviewing. Every discharged man is invited, either by a visitor or a friendly letter, to call and see us unless he has already done so. This also applies to the dependants. The invitation is always couched in a friendly manner. It is the fjrst call which creates the favourable or unfavour- able impression on the man. We lay ourselves out to impress on him that we are his friends and out to fight for *' his rights '' .as vigorously as he fought for ours. The bulk of cases offer no difficulty, but approximately lo per cent, do test our abilities. It is to such I wish to refer. Let me take, for instance, the case of a man passed out from an orthopaedic hospital with instructions as to further treatment. Orthopaedic surgery is one of the greatest dis- coveries in this war, and we are proud of the fact that its present position is mainly due to a Denbighshire man, Sir Robert Jones, who defines the science of " orthopaedics in TASK OF A WAR PENSIONS COMMITTEE 12 c relation to military surgery " as ** the treatment by operation, by manipulation, by reconstruction, and by re-education of disabilities to arms and legs arising from injury or disease." Orthopaedic treatment, therefore, may involve months or years before the man is restored. It is a science where Art and Nature work together for the good of the man. It calls for unlimited patience, and confidence on the man's part in the orthopaedic surgeon. The man before us has his own tale of suffering and troubles to tell. We interview him in a private room, with a stenographer present who takes down his story, and all his replies to questions. The man is comfortably seated and made to feel he is talking- to his best friend. He may be a difficult case, with nerves and will power shattered, inclined to be distrustful and suspicious. The interviewer must aim steadily at gauging the man's nature and directing his vision from despair to hope. He must keep a smiling, cheerful temper until he has mastered the situation. He may fail at the first interview, but there are other forces which may be employed ; the man's wife, his pals, his minister, all are ready to help, and their aid should be enlisted to make the second interview a greater success. If the man complains of his disablement paining him, or his medical sheet states that he requires further operative treatment, he is seen by the medical referee, who probably decides that the man must see an orthopaedic surgeon. With all the orthopaedic hospitals in the hands of the War Office a difficulty at once arises. This difficulty we have succeeded in overcoming in Wales by having a ward of forty beds placed under our control by the War Office, at Croesnewydd Auxiliary Military Hospital, Wrexham, which has a complete orthopaedic installation. This War Office concession, I believe the first of its kind, has been a blessing to the men. One word as to medical referees. It seems to me un- fortunate that the choice of these referees has not, in all cases, fallen on men who have had sufficient experience in dealing with disabled cases. The choice in our case, however, has been most fortunate. The man usually consents to seeing our consulting ortho- paedic surgeon, of whom and whose work one cannot speak too highly. He has the happy knack of seeing into the man 122 REVEILLE at once and gaining his confidence. He is a mighty factor in our work for which we are deeply grateful. To those who have not witnessed the miracles of orthopaedics, for a layman to attempt any description would be an act of presumption. Our duty is to employ every means in our power to restore the disabled man to his normal pre-war state of health, and in this work the orthopaedic surgeon plays a noble part. Or take the case of a neurasthenic — a truly tragic and difficult problem. The interviewer's efforts should be directed to inducing the man to face another Medical Board, which deals exclusively with such cases. If it is carefully explained to him that it is not a Military Medical Board, but one composed of specialists who will advise as to the nature of the case, the man rarely refuses. In our case the Board meets at Berrington Auxiliary Military Hospital, thirty-five miles away. The men are motored to Berrington voluntarily. With the man we send the '' case file " which we have built up dealing with his case, so that the Board may be posted before seeing the man. This greatly aids the Board in arriving at the best possible diagnosis. I have taken men before such Boards and can speak in the highest terms of their work. Here, again, we co-operate with a special agency. Our sole idea is the restora- tion of the man ; never mind the labour or cost. It is the cheapest method for the nation in the long run. A difficult and, too frequently, hard case, with which we are all, from time to time, face to face, is the case unprovided for by the Royal Warrant. The man has a real or imaginary grievance. Our procedure is to compile a complete case file, beginning as far back in the man's life as possible, with medical and other evidence bearing on his ailment, health insurance, club (if a member), Army medical records. Army records, the man's own statement, the evidence of friends, relatives, employers, &c., then send him and the case file before the Medical Referee ; and finally he appears before an Emergency Committee of the Local War Pensions Committee, who adjudicate and formulate a written opinion. The whole case is then submitted to the Ministry. Should the case, in our opinion, be proven and of urgent distressing hardship, we read into the Royal Warrant the common-sense view and act accordingly. Our view has always been that only by dealing with such cases on judicial lines, preparing all the evidence and sub- • TASK OF A WAR PENSIONS COMMITTEE 123 mitting it to the Minister of Pensions, can we expect the Ministry to create future Royal Warrants to provide against recurrence of similar cases. From the Minister of Pensions downwards we are all builders of a great new Christian Pensions Scheme, and it behoves all of us to give of our best to the building of the finest of all war memorials — a perfect Pension, Restoration, Re-education, and Repatriation Scheme. The Ministry is doing its best to grapple with the thousand and one problems and are always grateful to Local Committees who do not *' let them down," and though Local Committees may sometimes make mistakes — and who does not ? — the Ministry will not "let down" those Committees who prepare, act on, and submit the evidence in genuine cases. The placing of disabled men in employment suitable to their disablement is a matter of considerable concern and difficulty. It is, unfortunately, only too true that Labour Exchanges have not always proved a success in placing such men. The Exchanges can show large figures of employment reported to have been found for disabled soldiers, but we all know that many of those men are attracted by large wages to unsuitable employment ; consequently they break down and drift back once more to the protection of their Local War Pensions Committee. In our opinion and experience, the causes for the failures are to be found in the inadequate staffing of the Labour Exchanges, in the consequent lack of personal interest and of co-operation with the War Pensions Committees. For some time we in Denbighshire formed our own Employment Branch but recently, at the instigation of the Government, we have formed a Joint Sub-Commitee, of the Denbighshire Local War Pensions Committee and the Wrexham Local Advisory Committee (Labour Exchange), on which body all classes are represented. We have a separate office in the Labour Exchange, separately staffed, with an officer who devotes his whole time and personal attention to each case. The Local War Pensions Office is in intimate touch through a liaison officer with the Exchange. The Exchange officer is guided in his course of action by the Medical Referee's report. Each man is interviewed and the personal element brought in. The man having been placed, a letter is written covering the man's case to the employer, who is asked to play his part. We do not let go of 124 REVEILLE the case until we know the man is in employment suitable to his disablement. At the monthly meetincrs of the Committee every case is reviewed, and if men desire to appear before the Committee they are invited to do so. Recalcitrant men we bring before the Committee ; or we appoint persons of influence to see them. There are, and always will be, cases of almost insuperable difficulty ; such can only be dealt with by super means. In concluding this inadequate article on the task of a Local War Pensions Committee I cannot press home too strongly the view that, if our work is to be successful, we must interview each man, not send him a> form filled with questions which bewilder him, and which he answers (if at all) most inadequately. The latter is a lazy, unworthy way of dealing with a man whom it is our bounden duty to help to the limit of our power. Interviewing, when efficiently performed, is an exhausting occupation, requiring immense tact and patience. Look upon each interview as a battle, in which you manoeuvre for position ; keep your eye on victory for the sake of the man, his wife and children. Each time you succeed in sounding the depths of the man's nature you have won a victory for the man and the nation. It is our sacred privilege to be allowed to care for the disabled soldier, to care for the dependants of those who will never return. They have given their best for us : can we do less than give our best for them ? It is up to us to play our part with all our hearts in this work. Never leave hold of the man until he can plough his own furrow of life in complete independence. Let our work be a living, breathing memorial of those who sacrificed so much for us. Let us show that we too are prepared to make a supreme sacrifice, if necessary, to protect those who so nobly offered their lives and health for us. Make a close study of your work and its problems, em^ploy every agency you can think of to help you, join up such agencies, co-operate with them, and put your whole soul into your job — at the risk of your health even — then victory will be yours. *• Life is eternal, and love is immortal, and death is only an horizon, and an horizon is nothing but the limit of our sight." 125 PHYSICAL EDUCATION, By Colonel NETTERVILLE BARRON (Army Medical Service), A voice in the night heard crying, " Ye have trod on the steep descent, Beauty and grace denying, And the world's first Sacrament, That body and soul have bonded Ye have shattered and broken and rent." A. Stodart Walker. P.T., as it is called in the Army, is but one of the many sections into which Physical Education should be divided. P.T., that is, Physical Training, is just a system of exercise, usually of the Swedish variety, given under the guidance of an instructor, with the object of improving the physique or restoring the health of soldiers. Physical Training in Different Countries. The Swedish system differs from the German in that it is not customary for the instructor himself to lead the exercises. Moreover, little or no apparatus is required. It differs altogether from the British system, the latter being chiefly an affair of games, whether organized or, as is generally the case, disorganized. The growth of professionalism has, while enlarging the audiences, diminished the number of game players. Betting has still further reduced the moral value of many games, endowing them with an unhealthy interest which is replacing the normal desire of a young man to take an active part in them. But, after all, P.T., be it Swedish or German or British games, is, as I have said, only a very small part of Physical Education. 126 REVEILLE The Care of the Body. Only by physical education properly given can a child's mind and soul be effectually reached. During early life the care of the body is infinitely more important than the care of the mind. As we grow older this relativity scarcely alters — not, at any rate, until we have reached some way beyond our coming of age. We must have ceased to grow before we can cease our physical education, and even then we must continue to practise its tenets. Perhaps when we understand how much should be included in physical education these heresies may appear less gross. Physical education is the teaching of the body. But the body includes those ** material " things, brain and the organs of sense, without which we are in no better case than the lowest forms of life. It is therefore no light matter to teach that on which and by which our humanity is maintained, nor can it be done by exercise alone. The body has to be fed, housed, clad and cleansed. At present we spend often enough more money on ministering to a horse than we do on many a child made after God's image. Is it any wonder that whereas we have a beautiful breed of horses, a very indifferently developed manhood exists to straddle them ? We have not yet appreciated the disgrace which should attach to each of us on seeing a miserable ill-fed youth in rags issuing from a hovel. The Degradation of the Body. The initial error arose away back in the dark ages, back indeed before the Christian era, when some misguided philo- sopher " discovered " that by scourging his body he could the more easily cultivate his soul. The flesh is weak, therefore make it weaker. Make it so weak that short of leaving its earthly home altogether the soul may develop untrammelled by bodily lusts and greeds. Gradually, this pernicious doctrine spread until, disappointed with the results of flagellation, its devotees came to denounce suitable and sufficient food as gluttony, fine houses as temples of vice, appropriate and beautiful garments as vanity, and cleanliness as an insult to vermin. PHYSICAL EDUCATION 127 In time we arrive at the Separatists, those who insist that the body is, or should be, completely divorced from the soul: a delusion which, I regret to say, has permeated society and religion, and is still with us. In truth, that which is purely physical in the human body is hard to cut adrift from that which is spiritual, or from that which is mental. Regard some of our own modern mortifiers of the flesh. We all know the sort I mean. His hair is long, his skin is yellow and lustreless, his muscles are a farce, he is dirty and he is fanatical. He breathes " Religion " and *' Temperance " and " Damnation." But he has a beautiful soul ! Ah ! There are many people, especially among women, who will tell you how at some gathering his words burned into their poor brains, how through him they have at last found salvation. Neverthe- less, this man is neither religious nor temperate nor just. He is without any sense of rhythm, without balance, without love. By his door pass the poor in all their dirt, because they have not the wherewithal to make them clean. By his door pass the ragged and the hungry, yet he gives them neither raiment nor food. He gives them instead words and phrases — lovely, may be, as the sound of distant bells, and like bells, hollow. Next door, perhaps, lives an educationalist, a learned man — a prophet of the technical, large and Germanic. He thinks that somewhere beyond mathematics, if there be such a beyond, is the summuni bonum. Meanwhile, mathematics are good enough for him. He can, and does, discourse on calories and food values. He can tell you the percentages of your material composition. He looks upon a blackboard with reverence, since it is a stepping-stone to culture. But the crowds pass unheeded, save when their laughter or curses disturb his mental calisthenics. Then, indeed, he writes letters to the press, inquiring with some acerbity what is going to be done about it. He need not worry. The trumpet is sounding. There will be a great awakening, for him and for his neighbour. A Ministry of Health. Soon it will be realized that the body of man is of tremendous spiritual import. Even now we are beginning to hear more and more of a Ministry of Health. They are calling in the doctors. Alas ! that the doctors are themselves not always too 128 REVEILLE intimately acquainted with the malady they have to treat. We are beginning to understand that as a nation v/e are physically uneducated. Compulsory Military Service with its medical categories has proved beyond any doubt that there are living and breeding in England to-day a huge number of physical degenerates. There is no doubt whatever, none. My first practical suggestion would be to appoint a Royal Commission with power to inquire fully into the whole question of Physical Education. The subject is too vast for any one brain. Advice must be sought from many experts, and students must be placed in responsible positions to carry out further investigations. Meanwhile a certain amount has been accomplished. The Army's imperious demand for men who are physically fit has been the means of teaching thousands the value of P.T. If men have learned for the first time what it is to be wounded, they have also learned what it is to be really well. The Cry of the People. Much still remains to be done. There must be an aristo- cracy of health, into whose ranks shall be admitted viscount and tailor alike. The nation must become physically sane before any permanent progress can be made towards the eradication of our moral perverts. It is with the hope of stimulating general interest that this article is written. The people cry out for assistance. They feel in their hearts that the existence in our midst of the squalid, the underfed, and the degenerate is all wrong. Four Plays. Blind and groping in the darkness, Reaching out our hands for guidance, Calling to the silent places : '* Did He in His image make us, Did He give us souls and with it Nothing but is sin or shameful ? Is there no one who can help us ? " From the awful, silent places Comes an answer sure and ringing. Calling to all men and women : *• Lo ! the clay of which I made you Is the temple that I gave you.'* '-" . -^iiiiir.r.**'- "*»mrnnmi^"'' '<^miv^-*' •••' r . ^ • ' r . Vf ^P^ U tf *** 1 ^^^Hr '^ y-^ i mi I ^l^^^^^^^^l ^H ^^^^^m (1) TELEMARCHE. — The arrival of a Stranger causes consternation among the drunken Students. Telemarche is crouching in the foreground with his hat on. The actions represent surprise and dread; those of the Stranger, deternnination. fe (2) THE DEATH OF TELEMARCHE.— The Stranger has disappeared. Telemarche lies dead on the table. The actions represent horror ; note the extended fingers with hooked tips. (3) The Students are turned to stone. Telemarche is in the act of falling, all muscles apparently limp but balance perfect. The awakening follows this scene. The Stranger stands in the act of causing the transformation. (4) Taken during a rhythmic exercise expressive first of despair, then of repentance and hope. The feet are in the position "7, open." The most correct position of the feet is shown by the second man from the left (front row) of ihe picture. ( PHYSICAL EDUCATION 129 So runs a song taken from my play, ** The Soul of the Fiddler," produced in Blackpool in March, 191 7. It was a play acted entirely by wounded soldiers during their term of convalescence. With the exception of three songs the play was wordless. There were nearly forty performers, hardly any of whom had had any experience of the stage. Yet I cannot imagine any play being attended by a more rapt audience. *' The Soul of the Fiddler," although a play, was chiefly a form of physical education. It is perhaps the best example of the method I advocate, if by no means the first effort of its kind. The very first was presented at the Windsor Forest Institute for Physical Training before the War. The second, of which some photographs are here given, was called " Telemarche." It, too, was produced in Blackpool by patients of the King's Lancashire Military Convalescent Hospital (October, 191 6). A third, " The Beggarman and the Pilgrim," was also staged in Blackpool in December of the same year. All four plays had the same purpose running through them. They were designed to emphasize the oneness of body, mind, and soul. The Relationship of Movement to Body, Mind, and Soul. Movement, rest, and pose have effect both on pupil and observer. In the case of dramatic productions this effect is of course specially intentional. The effect on the pupil can be exactly what one chooses to make it, and, furthermore, the effect is not confined to his body, but penetrates to his mind and soul. Movements depend for their mental effect on a number of widely different things — pace, force, and repetition ; balance and tension ; rhythm and time ; on whether movements are bilateral or unilateral; the pupil right or left handed. Reaction, accuracy, and co-ordination are important factors. But ihe essential factor is meaning, because movements which express ideas or emotions can be used to an almost unlimited extent in physical education. Under their influence the backward becomes bright and recep- tive, memory is improved, and the moral sense is quickened. An unbalanced body means an unbalanced mind, a shuffling gait a shuffling soul. It would be a mistake to make our 9 I30 REVEILLE claims too wide. There are numerous and complicated matters to consider. It is, for example, a grave error to begin too young; neither can miracles be expected after the bodily form has become fixed. Within reason, however, the basis of all education should be *' physical," since through the body alone can we arrive at a real racial progress. The above statements express the reverse of a materialistic idea. It is the essential spirituality of the human body which I wish to impress on all my feaders, and more particularly on those who are now engaged on the great problem of recon- struction after the war. Let us have done once and for all with mortification of the flesh ; let us instead glorify it, correct- ing the errors, accentuating the beauties. Let us concentrate on physical perfection, knowing full well that in order to attain it spiritual education must inform our whole scheme. SoxME Details of Physical Training. Returning to detail : Swedish exercises are frequently per- formed to music. The music chosen has to have a marked tempo. In the system I adopt for advanced work, and which I recommend for children, there are no regular pauses ; the movements flow on with the music as do the movements of a dance in a Russian ballet. Select good music. Wagner appears to have composed some of the most suitable, but at the K.L.M.C.H. we borrowed freely from Liszt, Schumann, St. Saens, Chopin, and Handel. The movements should be undulating rather than abrupt, and over any one series should vary greatly in pace. Balance and tension must be ensured by careful attention to respiration and to the position of the feet. Diana Watts, in her book, " The Renaissance of the Greek Ideal," explains fully the position for the feet during exercise. When not resting be- tween exercises, the feet should be close together, heel to heel and toe to toe. It is a position we call " Mark." The heels should be almost clear of the ground, with the weight carried on the front of the arch of the foot. Note here that the military position of " attention " is inaccurate and mistaken, as are also the directions parents so often give their children to turn their toes out. PHYSICAL EDUCATION 131 It would take too much valuable space to explain in detail the meaning of movements. Briefly, flexion movements are de- pressing, ''negative," as we call them. Extension movements are exhilarating, or ''positive." For example, bend your head, flex your arms and your fingers, bend your trunk forward, bend your knees. You are now in a negative position, sorrowful, or actually afraid, according to the degree of flexion. Do precisely the reverse, extending the head backwards, the arms upwards, throw back your trunk and extend the right leg backwards, extend the feet by rising on the toes. You are now in a position of exaltation. Repeat this exercise several times and you will find your depression gradually vanishing. Movement with meaning — such is the essence of the system. Instead of an exercise devoid of any interest except its diffi- culty or the fatigue it engenders, we have a series of exercises, lasting perhaps two hours, which do not fatigue, yet are so strenuous that free sweating is a usual accompaniment. Before aspiring to stage displays, a good many hours must be ^' spent on teaching balance, tension, and rhythm. The class should then proceed to the quickening of reaction time, and the preservation of balance when caught in a disadvan- tageous position. We arrive at this by means of a game called "Gusto." The rules and apparatus can be obtained from Messrs. Slazenger. "Gusto," commonly known among the patients as " Bailee," is a game specially invented for use in the Windsor Forest Institute, and is now adoptedat theK.L.M.C.H. It resembles somewhat " Basket" or " Handball," but is faster and more scientific. Its chief feature is, however, the held posi- tion which every player has to adopt whenever the referee blows his whistle. No matter what you may be doing at that moment, you must fall at once into a correct balance and remain there until the whistle blows again. This can be practised by making a class run in single file while chairs, over which they jump, are placed in the way. On the whistle blowing all must stand rigid. A man may be in the air at the time. In that case he holds the position he is in when his foot retouches the ground. Care should be taken to blow the whistle at very irregular intervals. Pupils should be practised in the movements of different limbs at different rates. This should always be done when 132 REVEILLE teaching children. It is apt to take up too much time when we are teaching adults. Marching should be done with the ball of the foot touching the ground before the heel, and one foot should fall into position immediately in front of the other, not to one side as in ordinary walking. Ambidexterity should always be aimed at, however im- possible it may appear to attain it. On the other hand, the movements of the ** natural " hand should not be restricted in order to develop the movements of the ** unnatural " hand. Orthodox Swedish movements must by no means be neglected. They have been carefully thought out and are particularly suitable for Army work. They are not so suitable for work in classes made up of soldiers suffering from 'the various affections of the heart or from neurasthenia (shell- shock). The sharp, clipped word of command peculiar to P.T. instructors should be modified for cases of shell-shock, and undulating movements give better results than staccato Swedish exercises. In the treatment of diseases and deformities, all exercises, whether Swedish or undulating, have to be nicely graded. It is unnecessary to give details, which already exist in many admirable text-books. Finally, may I say that the system of physical education I advocate has no relationship whatever to a certain Bohemian cult of so-called beauty, which like a noisome weed obtrudes itself whenever bodily perfection comes under discussion. A Parson's Opinion. Perhaps if I close by quoting from a sermon preached by the Vicar of Blackpool after seeing '' The Beggarman and the Pilgrim," it will be made sufficiently clear why I attach so much importance to physical education, and why I am above all things anxious to have its tremendous significance brought before the public : — " .... I have been privileged to see the play, * The Beggarman and the Pilgrim.' It placed before me in a most wonderful manner the great truths of the relationship of body, mind and soul I would beg of you for your own soul's sake, and for the great purposes which we have in front of us as a nation, to go willing to be PHYSICAL EDUCATION U3 taught, for I am perfectly certain that so long as we persist in our present attitude towards physical training we have a great deal to learn The body is not the mere passive instrument of man's spirit, which shines through it as through uncoloured glass. The body gives colour, strong and definite to every ray of light which passes into and out of it. It is not like a harp which answers to the touch of a musician ; not like the clay in the hands of the potter ; not like the pencil in the hand of the limner, nor the chisel in the hand of the sculptor. It is an instrument, animated and active, exercising a power over the spirit which wields and uses it " I hope the good Vicar will pardon my introduction of his words, but they do seem to me to express very accurately what many are feeling in their hearts ; nor can I be accused of advertising my own goods, because " The Beggarman and the Pilgrim " was a wordless play, and has already passed into the realm of the forgotten. 134 ON CONVOY. By C. S. EVANS. The other day there was an empty ambulance train at a certain railway terminus, and people were paying sixpence, with two- pence extra as ^'entertainment tax," to go in and see it. I stood and watched them buy their tickets, but I did not go in with them because I had often helped to unload one of those ambulance trains, and I had no curiosity. They were just ordinary people ; City men chiefly, and well-dressed women, with, strangely enough, a sprinkling of young soldiers. They went solemnly to the spectacle and I could not help wondering what fascination drew them all. Was it that obscure emotion which makes most of us willing to have our imagination stirred by horrors, crudely or otherwise — through the pictures of Wiertz and the tales of Poe, or by the photographs in the popular journals which show ''the spot where the body was found " ? Vaguely, at first, I disapproved of these people, and especially disliked an old gentleman with white whiskers who handed out his money saying : " It's for a good cause ! " I felt that no one had any right to want to go to see that ambulance train ; that if the imagination of these people had not been sluggish they could not bear to go and see it ; but presently I felt kindlier towards them because I remembered how, at the beginning of the war, I used to be fascinated by the pictures of stricken fields in the illustrated papers, and particularly by the pictures of trenches with dead men. It was not merely a morbid curiosity, neither theirs nor mine, but rather a subconscious desire to realize a terrible thing concretely. Those visitors to the empty ambulance train wanted to be brought close up against realities, and I knew as I watched them that even the most imaginative would come away with a sense of disappoint- ment. Even when the white-painted bunks were filled and cars rolled into the station with their load of pain, they would be to an observer nothing more than a partly comprehended symbol. Only by an act of pure intuition can any non- ON CONVOY 135 combatant realize the war. Mere imagination, however, well fed by concrete eights and sounds, helps but little. Thoughts such as these brought to my mind the memory of my first convoy call, and the vague sense of excitement with which I received it. Several months' training had prepared me for it. My V.A.D. Battalion had developed from a local company of the St. John's Ambulance, and at the time I joined had only recently been promoted to the dignity of a khaki uniform with the Red Cross on the sleeve. The men were of all sorts and sizes — gas-workers, railway porters, bakers, chemists' assistants, clerks, and there was at least one keeper of a fried-fish shop. The CO. was a commercial traveller and the quartermaster a cashier ; wonderful men both of them, fathers of grown-up families, who since the first days of the war had given up goodness knows how many hours a week to the task of transporting the wounded from ambulance trains to hospital. If that had not been done by voluntary effort at the beginning of the war it is difficult to know how it would have been done at all. Even to-day the greater part of this trans- port is carried out by the various volunteer ambulance convoys which have developed from such small beginnings, and the men who form the original companies have in most cases received the King's commission. In those early days they wore a kind of travesty of an officer's uniform and fulfilled a score of functions at once. They drilled us, they lectured us on First-aid, they taught our clumsy fingers deftly to tie bandages, and when they were not engaged in licking us into shape or attending convoys, sometimes waiting with their men five or six hours a night, two or three times a week, on cold and draughty platforms for hospital trains that were delayed, they were stimulating public interest in the work, canvassing for recruits and organizing appeals for money to buy motor ambulances and equipment. No man was allowed to go ** on convoy " until he had passed an examination in First-aid and had attended thirty drills, which usually meant a preliminary training of two or three months. After that his name was entered as "efficient," and he was liable to be called at any hour of the day or night. My call came unexpectedly in an unfamiliar voice on the telephone. ** Convoy this afternoon at Station. Parade at Head- quarters 3.15., station 3.30." 136 REVEILLE " Right ! ril be there. A big one ? " •' About 200 cases. They're clearing up Vimy Ridge." Two hours to get to my home, change into uniform and reach an outlying northern suburb. I went, thinking with misgiving of this new experience. Suppose something went wrong! Suppose my foot slipped on the polished hospital floor. Would my N.C.O. remember that I was only detailed for *' side-bearer " work ? If he forgot, dare I remind him ? Outside headquarters the motor ambulances were being gaped at by a curious crowd watching with tense interest the loading up of the stretchers, blankets, pillows. I travelled to the station in one of the ambulances with five other men, all old hands at convoy work. "This your first convoy? Take my tip and get a job as ambulance orderly. Nothing to do but tuck up the feet and see the 'bus doesn't run away." " Heart case, aren't you ? Mind you don't faint when you get a sixteen stoner. Have to carry 'em up six flights of stairs sometimes. The adjutant gets angry when patients are dropped." But I was taking the whole thing seriously. Flippancy seemed to me a little out of place. How could anyone joke going to such a task ? We drew up before the station with the rest of the convoy. Four or five different companies were represented — altogether about 1 70 men. We were formed up, numbered and detailed to various tasks. I was attached to the "hospital party," and sent off in the ambulance to the hospital^ where once again we were paraded, numbered, and detailed. A dozen of us were lined up against the wall of a corridor opposite an entrance door under the cold and disapproving eye of an R.A.M.C. sergeant-major. Our job was to step forward two at a time as the stretcher-bearers entered with the patients and take each a part of the weight at the side. And now, while waiting for the first ambulance to roll in, a new apprehension seized me, not concerning my efficiency, but my relationship to those poor battered men. Could I look them in the face ? Suppose one of them were to ask me : •* Why am I on this stretcher and you standing there ? Why am I not carrying you ? Why should fit men go into hell and the weakling stay out ? " And when, presently, the first came ON CONVOY 137 in, I felt as if I must beg his pardon for not being where he was. I saw the head of him first when the stretcher halted for the M.O. to tick off his name in the book and assign him to his special ward — a head glowing with a mass of auburn hair, and I stared at it fascinated. As the stretcher swung level and I stepped into my place, I looked down at him, a boy about nineteen, and to my surprise he smiled up at me. '* What's this place, chum ? " I told him. '* Anywhere near London ? " "Yes," and, in my confusion, added: "Glad to be back?" He was kind to me, that boy ; he grinned. A little bit of paper pinned to his cap bore the word "Amputation." We took his blankets off and saw he had lost his right arm at the shoulder ; and his leg on the same side was bandaged from foot to thigh. As we went down the ward to his bed I almost envied him. Eyes from all the other beds seemed to be summing me up. He was of their brotherhood, but I was an intruder. What was behind their straight, incurious, stolid stare? Doubling back to my position opposite the door I was conscious of a shooting pain in my hand, and remembered suddenly that I had run a splinter into my finger a day or two before while cutting roses — cutting roses ! — and the place had festered ; I asked my companion to change sides with me so that I could use my other hand. He assented, and we changed. But then a feeling of shame came over me that I should bother about such a thing at such a time. I looked at my companion to see if he were sneering at me, but he was not, and I said : " I think I'll manage with this finger after all. Let's get as we were." ' Then happened one of those things I had feared. In carrying the next case to his ward I took a position too close to the head of the stretcher, and my elbow projecting inwards brushed against the wounded side of the patient and made him give a little cry of pain. The R.A.M.C. sergeant-major heard it, stepped up and reprimanded me curtly, but the man on the stretcher said: " It's all right, old chap, don't worry about it.'' I wanted to say : "I wouldn't have done it for the world," but somehow I couldn't speak. He, too, was an amputation case. He had to put his arm round my neck when I helped him into bed. 138 REVEILLE The rest of that day of my first convoy comes to me in a series of pictures, all dream-like and unreal, with flitting figures like shadows moving. There's a vision of blue sky and sun- shine seen through the hospital windows as one walked past, a vision which always seems to mean something immensely significant but never yields its mystery. There's the picture of the hospital courtyard seen through the open door, with a big, grey-painted ambulance swinging round a curve, and ranks of men four by four, with empty stretchers, waiting to be filled. There's a glimpse of the cool hospital corridor, with nurses walking arm-in-arm, and groups of men in blue clustered round open doors, who turn and look at us over their shoulders as we pass, hushing down their talk. There's something terrible in that picture, and I can't tell why. Then there are the faces I saw but once, young faces for the most part, and deathly pale. They come out of darkness and they shine. These things are symbols which neither I nor any other man can clearly read, for if we could there would be an end of war. Disturbed by them, the mind trembles on the brink of an amazing intuition, from which it yet draws back shuddering. Let the imagination play, fed by objective impressions, and the result is merely a multiplication sum — so many hospitals, so very many loaded ambulances, so many figures like my own in ill-fitting uniforms carrying stretchers. And away in France and Belgium the First-aid stations and the casualty clearing stations and the base hospitals, and on the sea the hospital ships. And even if we set ourselves to work out that sum, there is in th^ accumulation no instant or vital appeal to the consciousness. Wonder, not emotion, is stirred. In the face of this mass of human misery we are like children to whom one talks of the immensities of space. And so it is that we obey that inward call to get into close touch with the realities of war ; and some of us go to see empty ambulance trains, and some ride down to the scenes of Zeppelin raids, and men and women in trains feel vaguely disappointed when their newspapers do not give them the expected thrills. But such real comprehension as any individual of us can obtain comes to us from accidental things, and I think to no man or woman except through sacrifice and service. 139 NOTES. By the EDITOR. There took place recently in London the Second Inter- Allied Conference on the Disabled. It was opened in the Central Hall, Westminster, on May 20, by His Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught, and the King and Queen visited the Exhibition on the first day. Not present at the First Inter-Allied Conference in Paris last year, I cannot compare the two, but our London Con- ference seemed on the whole successful. Except perhaps at the banquets — what did our foreign guests think of " Grace " and a "Loving-cup"? — there was pleasant lack of mutual admiration and of discord. The delegates, who came from France and Italy, from Belgium, Portugal, and Serbia, from the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, and Slam, arrived in an air-raid, and were left through- out but little time for rumination. Some very interesting papers were read, and a demonstra- tion given by Professor PuttI, Bologna University, of the important development of surgery alluded to by our own great orthopsedlst. Sir Robert Jones, in this number of Reveille. It was Interesting at the Conference to mark the difference between the Latin and the Anorlo-Saxon deleg^ates — how the o o former dwelt without self-consciousness on theoretic, scientific, and psychological aspects, while nearly all the Anglo-Saxon delegates shunned long words like the plague, and were severely matter of fact. Thus was the object of the Conference achieved, and the nations learned from one another, Unglfted with the power of being in three places at once, one was only able to attend the Conferences on Training. Dr. Bourrlllon, French delegate and learned head of the great establishment for re-education at St. Maurice, near Paris — which I had the pleasure of going over in March, 19 17 — spoke of the advantao-e of a few lar^e tralnlnor schools as ao^alnst many small ; of the need for advanced schools ; and of the T40 REVEILLE hoped-for Introduction of Inter-Allied schools, to link up the methods employed. Dr. Mario Gusmitta, from Italy, furnished a most interesting paper on the agricultural re-education of the disabled. Dr. Costa Ferreira, from Portugal, dwelt on the proved inter-action between physical and mental injury, and the need for both direct and indirect means of evoking mental restoration. Dr. Le Brun and Monsieur Alleman spoke of Belgian re-education, and the latter insisted on the need for teaching the men to be productive, rather than of merely educating them. Mr. J. Gustav White detailed the work of the American Y.M.C.A. Major McKeen described, to the admiration of all, the Canadian arrangements for the return to civil life of the dis- abled, and quoted figures from which it appears that just half their disabled men have been, or are being trained. Surgeon- General Fetherson, from Australia, pleaded that all information on developments in treatment and training should be sent to the Ministry of Repatriation at Melbourne — a request which our Departments have no doubt noted. The South African delegate, Lieutenant-Colonel Thornton — their problem of course is small, and the conditions are perhaps exceptionally favourable — told the story of the methods they pursue. They insist that physical recovery and re-training for civil life should go hand in hand from the beginning. Vocational training is actually begun at the bedside ; classes follow in hospital ; the men then go into hostels, and are treated as out-patients, but continue their studies in the hospital workshops ; and, finally, still in-^khaki, they go into factories. Ninety per cent, of their disabled are voluntarily taking train- ing. ** Such a satisfactory result is due to the facilities for early training, which enable patients to become interested in work in the early days of their illness, and before they have become thoroughly hospitalized." Verbiim sapienti! For Britain, Major Robert Mitchell gave a detailed account of the measures we have adopted. The Conferences on Training disclosed the need of a Home Conference on that subject. In fact, it was a pity we had not held one before the Allied Conference came on. Many points of domestic importance were brought out by the various home speakers. A Birmingham delegate asked b NOTES 141 that hicrher allowances should be made to the men taking train- ing ; the competition, he said, of highly paid work, such as munitions, was too great at present. (To this point our Ministry- promised to give attention.) He spoke, too, of the resentment felt by many men at the kind of question put to them by persons trying to induce them to take training. He said most truly that ** the disabled fuan is the concern not only of the Government, but of the Public'' He was supported substantially by delegates from South Wales. Some delegates spoke of the advisability of nationally reserving certain occupations, such as switchboard work, and jewellery, entirely for the disabled. On that I have a remark to make later on. Some very interesting comments were offered by Dr. Walmsley, from Clerkenwell. He pleaded for identity of control, under a single Department fused of the Pensions and Labour Ministries. Also of the necessity for securing for the disabled man definite and permanent employment, and not turning him out a mere handyman, to try and compete with low-paid labour. The outlets for men, he said, must be found while they are training ; and the syllabuses were not yet satis- factory. He deprecated blind-alley occupations ; and finally, for training in special small trades, he advocated a limited number of large establishments. Mr. Wilson, of Birmingham, put in an earnest plea for arts and crafts, and the need for *' quality work." " Quality," he said, " is the only thing which pays, and pays all the time." He asked for a Central Committee to foster the training of men in the arts and crafts. Mr. Dudley Myers, the Director of Training at Roehampton, advocated centralization of control ; co-ordination of effort ; and the collective handling of men. He spoke about the need of convalescent hospitals for those about to be discharged, terri- torially placed, with workshops attached. Dr. Holland, of the Newport Technical School, drew atten- tion to the fact that there was as yet no adequate provision for disabled members of the learned professions, such as architects, accountants, lawyers, teachers ; and to the problem of men disabled not by wounds or sickness, but by mere length of ,42 REVEILLE service. He asked for unity of control, reservation oi certain occupations, and the compulsory notification of vacancies. Mr. Butcher, a Lancashire delegate, lamented the mental apathy of the disabled men and the way they were going straight Into blind-alley occupations at high wages, without any thought of their future. He advocated the starting of training in hospital. Mr. Mawson made a strong appeal for handlcraftsmanship, and for specialization in super-industries. Sir William Younger complained of the very small number of men who in his district (Dumfries) were coming forward for training, especially in agriculture. He put in a plea for the teaching of afforestation In combination with small holdings. The Rothband scheme was warmly advocated by Colonel Bowden, M.P. Mr. Seymour Jones pleaded for the personal touch, and the closest study of each individual case by every Local War Pensions Committee. Another delegate from Birmingham complained that men were sent out from Labour Exchanges to work for which they were not fitted. He also pleaded for the close study of each case. ** A lot of pressure," he said, ** Is necessary to Induce a man to take training, and the monetary allowances are not sufficient." Miss Heyneman, the only lady speaker, described the work of Kitchener House, and emphasized the great Importance and need of such educational clubs, where wounded soldiers and sailors still in hospital can go In their hours of leave, and receive Instruction in languages and useful occupations, to keep their faculties alert and their minds from rusting. Sir Charles Nicholson presided over the Trainings Section. The Conferences on Treatment were presided over by Lord Charnwood, and the Conference on Pensions by Sir Arthur Griffith- Boscawen. A volume containing the Reports (523 pages) was devotedly edited by Lord Charnwood under great difficulties, and not — as might be supposed, owing to a printer's error — by him who writes these words. This volume, which contains much valuable matter, can be obtained from His Majesty's Stationery Office, Westminster, price 5s. NOTES 143 In a paper contained in that volume, by Mrs. Wood of the London Local Pensions Committee, I find the pregnant sayings : " A pensioned man has, in the eyes of the Labour world, the same ominous possibilities as female labour, child labour, or alien labour." And : " It is up to the Pensions Committee to see . . . that the whole question of training is considered in conjunction with that of employment." But I find also one saying which gives me pause: "It should, it seems to me, therefore be accepted . . . that a man having a skilled trade he can return to should not be considered eligible for training." Certainly not, if his working value at that trade is 100 per cent, or 90, or even, perhaps, 80 per cent, of what it was. But in so many cases a disabled man can go back now to his skilled trade with only from 50 to 75 per cent, of the working power he formerly had. This is all very well while the war lasts. But — afterwards ? Such a man emphati- cally needs re-training for something at which he is nearly or quite the equal of an able man. It transpired in the course of the Conference that about 32 per cent, of discharged men have gone back to their old employment. How many of these will be able to keep that employment when the full pinch of industrial competition comes once more ? Mrs. Wood said very truly that the real problems of training will not arise until after the conclusion of war conditions. On May 28 there was a debate in the House of Commons on Pensions administration. If the attendance — some fifty members — shows the measure of interest in the disabled as yet felt by the country at large, one can only say it is not extravagant. Though much appreciation was shown of the recent efforts of the Pensions Ministry, there was a good deal of criticism, led by Mr. Hogge. Perhaps the chief point, of many in his able speech, was the unfair position of the mothers and dependants of boy apprentices, who in the early days of the war volunteered, compared with the position of mothers and dependants of youths who waited for conscription. Feeling on this point appears universal, and remedy will no doubt be found. Legislation was spoken of to prevent the exploitation of disability by employers ; and to remove the reluctance to 144 REVEILLE employ caused by the Employers' Liability Act. As Sir Howell Davies put it, a disabled man should be able to say to his would-be employer : " If an accident arises through my incapacity or disability you are not going to lose by it, because the Government will stand behind me." The more one thinks over this whole matter the more one is driven to the conclusion that very special occupations alone will meet the case of a great number of the disabled, if they are not to be thrown out of work in normal times. And the plea that certain occupations should be nationally reserved for them has much surface attraction. Against it there are two factors, which I think outweigh the advantages. Will public opinion a few years hence, when the war is a stale memory, uphold such reservations ? I more than doubt it. Further : Is it not an inorganic, unnatural way out ? The way of vigour and perfec- tion clearly lies in discovering for these men jobs which they can take and hold without protection. Our minds and con- sciences will only be at rest when every disabled man is in work at which he is worth as much as the able man. For then only will pensions be what they ought to be — true rewards and compensations for injury received in the service of the country. But, sooner than reserve certain occupations, I think we should foster the handicrafts, and train more of the disabled in the arts of the smith and founder, terra-cotta worker, modeller, plasterer, carver, metal-worker, potter, glass-worker, chair and furniture maker, hand-loom weaver, and other crafts now but meagrely pursued. The Government would, I think, be well advised, as urged by Mr. Wilson, to encourage the formation of a central organizing committee of craftsmen, and work in with them. The presence in the community a few years hence of numbers of men living, or rather half-alive, on their pensions, charity and odd jobs, will be a national disgrace. And it is certain that, whatever success the Government schemes for treatment and training have, there will still be a residue of disabled men unfitted with permanent jobs, of disabled men continually losing their work, and of disabled men who will not work. To deal with all these there will, I doubt not, have to NOTES 145 be national provision of some sort — possibly a development of the Lord Roberts' Memorial Workshops for townsmen, and of complementary land settlements for countrymen. Workshops and settlements self-supporting so far as possible, but State- guaranteed on condition that they refused no man disabled by the war, and made the best they could of him while he was there. Some last line of defence, some last resort will, I am sure, turn out to be necessary, so that the country may be able to lay its hand on its heart and reply to any disabled man unabsorbed in industry : " There is always a place for you, and a good place, even if you have failed to hold your own in normal industry. You can go there to-morrow." A MATTER which I am sure is extremely important, if it is not already being attended to, is the continual up-to-date supply to all Local War Pensions Committees of the " demand " figures for special industries, so far as they can be obtained. And speaking of these Local Committees, one cannot too often express the conviction that on the way they handle the dis- charged men who come to them, on their sympathy and tact and energy and personal touch the success of the Government schemes now hang. On that and on the support they receive from the public. I hope everybody will read Mr. Seymour Jones's little article. People whose hearts are not in the work have no business on Local War Pensions Committees. Every suspicion of patronage, charity, and grudgery — to coin a word — must be rooted out, or w^e shall see but the mirage of success. I WANT to direct public attention to the sentence be- ginning : " Their number is comparatively small," near the end of the article in this number of Reveille called '' The Return of the Officer." An influential committee has been formed to help officers to settle on the land, and any offers of assistance will be acknowledged, and all information forwarded by the Hon. Secretary, Officers' Fund, Barclay's Bank, 25B, Old Broad Street, London. On p. 360 of the last number of Recalled to Life, the ^Manor House Orthopaedic Hospital at Hampstead was mentioned as being associated with the Military Orthopaedic Hospital at Shepherd's Bush. I am asked to say that this is 10 146 REVEILLE no longer the case. This excellent hospital has now been placed, by agreement with the War Office, under the aegis of the Pensions Ministry, and only takes discharged men, who are sent to them through the various Local War Pensions Committees. It is now nearly two years since I had the delight of watching- Colonel Netterville Barron's Musical Drill (described in his article " Physical Education," in this number) at King- Edward's Lancashire Convalescent Hospital near Blackpool. A little mime play was performed to music — each motion of the actors being carefully studied to improve their strength and balance. It struck one as a kind of white magic, emotionalizing to watch, and quite obviously absorbing to the men taking part in it. Its introduction into other convalescent hospitals would be a splendid thing. Remarkably ingenious devices for the aid of mutilated and injured men are conjured out of women's brains at the Surgical Requisites Association, 17, Mulberry Walk, Chelsea. They must be seen to be believed in, and yet are, some of them, so simple. And the queer thing is that the people making them never dreamed of such things before the war. I WENT the other day to a very wonderful place. When things are lovely as well as useful, when a house of work is wrapped in garments of happiness, in sum, where beauty walks — then, I suppose, we are inclined to give higher marks of appreciation than we do to the "plain-stuff" institution. And so we should — far higher — for beauty and happiness are no less the prizes of life for being rare these days. If, then, you want to see use, beauty, and happiness, you will find them at the Heritage Craft Schools, Chailey, Sussex. They perform there three kinds of restoration, I know not which the more necessary and fine. They educate crippled children, they restore air-raid children to health, they care for and train crippled soldiers from the Shepherd's Bush Military Hospital. They took their first crippled soldiers for re-training from the London Hospital in January, 191 5. But the place must be seen ; it is an authentic miracle. A good place and a beautiful in every sense. Their founder and Hon. Secretary is Mrs. NOTES 147 C. W. Kimmins Old Heritage, Chailey, Sussex ; their chief Patroness, H.R.H. Princess Louise. Bricks are not made without straw, nor miracles wrought without money in these days. The wise and beneficent will inquire further. If readers will study Sir John Collie's article, *' Restorative Treatment," and the Appendix thereof, they will realize some- thing of the problem which continued physical treatment of the discharged man means. To deal with it in the present shortage of doctors and accommodation is like trying to enlarge a garment without cloth. But they will be struck, too, by the vast expansion of the arrangements in the last few months. The number of men being treated under the Ministry of Pensions has increased since January i this year from 4,297 to 19,684 on June 5. And up to that date the total number who have been given treatment under the Ministry is 38,480 ; 36 to 2)7 P^f cent, of them for wounds or injuries. The recent extensions are very cheering ; but a glance at Table A will show how many tens of thousands there must be in our midst who still really need further physical treatment, even though for one reason or another they are not claiming it. Of the 358,160 officers and men pensioned for disability up to May 31 this year, 43 per cent, were discharged for wounds and injuries, and 57 per cent, for disease and illness ; this estimate counts shell-shock as a nervous disease. By common consent, especially when it is known that a man cannot be returned to the Army, his physical restoration ought to go hand in hand with re-education for civil life. I hope it will be found possible to introduce bedside occupations, such as Lieut-Col. Goldthwait, of the American Army Medical Service, describes in this number of Reveille ; but I am told that to continue instruction when men are " up " is impossible for lack of space and other reasons, in most of our military hospitals. There is very great need, therefore, for Educational Clubs (such as Kitchener House, 8, Cambridge Gate, Regent's Park) where men, still in hospital, can go for occupation and education in their leave hours. The more attention hospital authorities and the benevolent public give to this vital matter, the simpler and more hopeful the whole problem of refitting a man for civil life will become. 148 REVEILLE Anyone who knows a disabled man going on the wrong tack should read Major Mitchell's article, and consult Tables B and C. He will find in Table B occupations suitable to the man's disability, and will discover from Table C where those occupations are being taught. Wide and generous plans, much zeal and effort, official and private, are now being devoted to this great question of our disabled. Nobody pretends that the scheme is perfect, nobody I am sure blinks the difficulties. The obstacles have been, and are, many and great, and we have got to effective work all too late in the day. Tens of thousands of discharged men have stepped back into industry before all was done that could have been done for them by way of physical treatment ; that is the first danger. Tens of thousands have taken, and are still taking, jobs which they will have no chance of keeping ; that is the second danger. There is still a miasma of suspicion to be cleared away, and a bank of apathy to be broken through. Tell me, do you see any chance whatever of retrieving these men, of still giving them the needed physical treatment, and the needed vocational training, so that they fit into secure and permanent niches in the social structure, and become happy, useful citizens — unless the Public, the g^^eat Public, comes to the rescue, and by exerting the gradual pressure of its goodwill and effort and opinion on every such man, induces him to take the chances offered ? Frankly, I do not. Nothing is harder than to persuade men to be wise about themselves. The men who have slipped away — who knows how many i* — and the men who are still slipping all the time, will plaster this country a few years hence with human wreckage, unless they can be induced to take all necessary physical treatment and training to fit themselves for jobs which they can keep. And each of us who has benefited by these men's sacrifices, each of us who has a chance now to influence some one of them, commits a little crime when he or she lets the chance go by. A HEARTY word of thanks to all who have helped to bring out this number. All letters to : The Editor of ** Reveille," 2 1, Bedford Street, London, W.C.2. THE HAPPY WARRIOR. < Taken in the Courtyard of the Old Heritage Craft Schools, Chailey, Sussex.) Laetus sorte mea." 149 THE NEW ROYAL WARRANT. The principal provisions of the Royal Warrant of April 17, 1 91 8, regulating the pensions of soldiers disabled, and of the families and dependants of soldiers deceased, in consequence of the present war, are set forth below in a summarized and explanatory form. Temporary Allowance pending Award of Pension. A soldier discharged as medically unfit for further service, or while suffering impairment, may be granted a temporary allowance of 27s. 6d. a week, together with children's allow- ances at the full rate, until his pension is fixed. If, by reason of his disablement, he needs hospital treatment he may receive it gratis. Men "suffering impairment" are men who being of low health category and having been discharged as surplus to requirements in that category, are found to have suffered impairment. Pensions and Allowances to Disabled Men.^ Conditions entitling Men to Pension. — (i) The man must be discharged as medically unfit for further service or while suffering impairment ; (2) his unfitness or impairment must be certified as either attributable to or aggravated by military service during the present war ; and (3) the disablement must not be less than 20 per cent, of total disability. Gratuity or Te7nporary Allowance. — If the first two of the above conditions are complied with, but the man's disablement is less than 20 per cent, of total disability, he may receive a gratuity or temporary allowance, the grant not to exceed ^200. ^ A man whose disability is due to his serious negligence or misconduct will be regarded as ineligible for pension or allowance, and his family or dependants will also be regarded as ineligible. ISO REVEILLE SCALE OF PENSIONS THAT MAY BE GRANTED FOR SPECIFIC INJURIES. Specific injury Loss of two or more limbs Loss of an arm and an eye Loss of a leg and an eye Loss of both hands or of all fingers and thumbs Loss of both feet Loss of a hand and a foot Total loss of sight Total paralysis Lunacy Wounds, injuries or disease resulting in disabled man being permanently bedridden Wounds of or injuries to inter- nal, thoracic or abdominal organs, involving total per- mai^ent disabling effects ... Wounds of or injuries to head or br«in involving total per- manent disabling eflfects, or Jacksonian epilepsy Very severe facial disfigure- ment Advanced cases of incurable disease Amputation of right arm at shoulder joint Amputation of leg at hip or left arm at shoulder joint Severe facial disfigurement Total loss of speech Short thigh .amputation of leg or of right arm above or through elbow Total deafness Amputation of leg above knee (other than 4) and through knee or of left arm above or through elbow, or of right arm below elbow Amputation of leg below knee (including Symes' and Chopart's amputation) or of left arm below elbow Loss of vision of one eye Loss of thumb or of four fingers of right hand Loss of thumb or of four fingers of left hand, or of three fingers of right hand Loss of two fingers of either hand C tos O V t) 0-0 g Per cent. 100 90 80 Disablement Pensions If not entitled to a Service Pension IE-. O „ s. d. 42 6 383 34 o 70 29 9 60 SO 40 30 25 6 21 3 17 o 12 9 8 6 o uji s. d. 37 6 33 9 30 o 26 3 22 6 18 9 15 o II 3 7 6 O <« s. d. 35 o 31 6 28 o 24 6 21 o 17 6 14 o 10 6 7 o OS s. d. 32 6 29 3 26 o 22 9 19 6 163 13 o 9 9 6 6 O <n in s. d. 30 O 27 o 24 o 21 O 18 O 15 o 12 O 9 o 6 o «.2 ^o' s. d. 27 6 24 9 22 o 19 3 16 6 13 9 II o 83 56 •^^ -a Note. — In the case of left-handed men, certified to be such, the compensation in respect of the left arm, hand, &c., will be the same as for a right arm, hand, &c. THE NEW ROYAL WARRANT 151 Amount of Pension, — A man may be granted either a dis- ablement pension or an alternative pension. A disablement pension is ordinarily temporary at first and it continues to be renewed until the man's disability becomes fixed or disappears, when the pension is made permanent or ceases. This pension is fixed in accordance with the scale on the opposite page. If the disablement is not in this list the pension is assessed at the degree in the list most applicable. In addition to his disablement pension a man is granted children's allowances as shown below. A man who already has a disablement pension may apply for an alternative pension in lieu of his disablement pension and children's allowances if the total of (i) his disablement pension //^^^ (2) his children's allowances (if ^.ny), plus (3) the average earnings of which he remains capable, are less than his pre-war earnings. The aim is to make the man's post-war income as nearly as possible equal to his pre-war earnings, and if the pre-war earnings did not exceed 50s. a week this aim is actually accomplished and the post-war income is brought up to the pre-war earnings. If, however, the pre-war earnings were over 50s. a week, the result aimed at can but partially be obtained, as only the pre-war earnings up to £^ are taken into consideration and only half the excess of the pre-war earnings over 50s. is allowed for. Example, where the pre-war earnings did not exceed 50s. a week : — A man now capable of earning ... ... 20s. a week and before the war earning ... ... ... 45s. ,, would have up to ... ... ... ... ... 45s. „ less what he is capable of earning ... ... 20s. ,, which gives as his alternative pension ... 25s. ,, This 25s. with his earnings of 20s. makes up the 45s. he was earning before the war. Example, where the pre-war earnings exceeded 50s. a week : — A man now capable of earning... 20s. a week before the war earning ... 80s. ,, would have up to ... ... ... ... ... 50s. ,, and half the excess of 80s. over 50s. ... ... 15s. ,, making 65s. „ less what he is capable of earning ... ... 20s. „ leaving as alternative pension ... ... ... 45s. „ 152 REVEILLE The highest alternative pension a man can obtain, if for instance his pre-war earnings were ;^5 a week or over and his earning capacity was ml, would be 75s a week. * The earnings of a man who has lost both legs, both arms, or the sight of both eyes are regarded as nil. Pensio7is on Re'eniisifnent. — A disabled pensioner who re- enlists receives his appropriate disablement pension just as if he had not re-enlisted, but he does not get children's allowances in addition as they are entitled to separation allowance. Service Pensions, — A Private receives any service pension in addition to his pension. It is otherwise with Warrant or Non-com. Officers who receive either their service pension plus the Private's rate of pension, or their full rate of pension according to their rank as shown in the scale given without the service pension. Miscellaneous Provisions. — Paid acting rank at the time of disablement or of removal from duty by reason of the disable- ment carries with it the pension corresponding to that rank. If a temporary disablement pension does not continue more than a year a gratuity of £^ may be granted to the pensioner. Where a pension is made permanent it cannot be decreased on account of a man's earning capacity ; but it may be increased if his disablement has substantially increased. Where a man requires constant attendance he may be allowed an additional pension not exceeding 20s. a week. A man's pension and allowance may be reduced one half if he refuses to undergo treatment certified to be necessary in his interests. Where the disablement does not show until after a man's discharge he may claim a pension as though he had been discharged as medically unfit for service, such pension to date from the establishment of his claim. Non-attributable Cases. — Men whose unfitness is not due to Military Service may be granted a gratuity or temporary pension which may amount to ;^i50 according to length and character of service. This may be paid out in weekly sums. Children's Allowances and Pensions. To be entitled to a children's allowance a child must have been born before or within nine months of the father's THE NEW ROYAL WARRANT 153 discharge, except in the case of children's allowances to a man under treatment or training. Children's allowances are 6s. 8d. for the first child, 5s. for the second, and 4s. 2d. for each child after the second. The allowance is granted for each child under 16, but it may be continued beyond that age where the child is only receiving a nominal wage, or is being educated, or is incapable through physical or mental infirmity of earning a living. A man drawing a disablement pension has, in addition to that pension, children's allowances corresponding to his degree of disability. For example, if half disabled he gets half the children's allowance for each child, if one-fifth disabled he gets one-fifth of the children's allowance. There is no difference between the allowance for the child of a Private and for that of a Warrant or Non-commissioned Officer. A widow who draws a "widow's" pension gets the full allowance for each child, so do the " separated wife " and the " unmarried wife " as long as the children are with her. Children's allowances continue after their mother's re-marriage. Motherless children and children removed from the control of their mother may be granted a pension not exceeding los. a week ; where two or more are with the same person the pension will be reduced to 9s. 2d. for each child after the first. Illegitimate children of men who have died may be granted a pension not exceeding 6s. 8d. a week. Treatment and Training. Treatment. — Treatment may be granted free in the case of any man who in consequence of his disablement is certified to need medical treatment, whether such disablement is due to military service or not. Where the' disablement is due to military service there is no time limit, and not only his family, but the man may be granted an allowance. Where the dis- ablement is not due to military service treatment is limited to the duration of the war and one year afterwards, and no allow- ance is paid to the man (other than any temporary allowance that may be due to him), but his family may be granted the usual allowances. Training. — Training will be granted free in the case of any 154 REVEILLE man whose disablement is due to military service and as to whom it is decided that he should, in consequence of his dis- ablement, receive training. At the termination of training a bonus equivalent to 5s. for every week of training may be awarded and a sum not exceeding ;^io may be granted for the purchase of tools if required to be provided by the man in the trade in which he has been trained. Allowances for Treatment and T7^aining. — During treat- ment (except as above stated in the case of non-attributable men) and training, an allowance equal to the highest disable- ment pension, according to his rank, is given to the man, and he is given, in addition, the full children's allowance. If the treatment or training necessitates his living away from home his wife receives an amount equivalent to a '' widow's" pension, or a dependant supported by him up to the time when his treatment or training began may be granted such support up to I OS. a week. If, however, it would be to his advantage a man may have instead an allowance equal to his alternative pension on the basis that his earning capacity is nil, and in such case there would be no additional allowance to wife, child, or dependant. From the allowance 7s. a week is deducted in respect of a man's maintenance in an institution. Widows' Pensions, &c. The term '' widow " does not include a widow whose marriage took place after the termination of the war, or after the discharge of the soldier, or after the receipt of the wound or injury which caused his death ; nor does it include a widow who was separated from her husband at the time of his death. On the death of her husband a widow receives £^, and £\ for each child, to meet expenses consequent on her husband's death. The Minister is empowered to terminate or suspend the pension of a widow for misconduct, and also to provide for the administration of a pension on behalf of a widow and her children. Widow whose Husbands Death is due to Military Service. — The widow of a soldier who is killed in military service or THE NEW ROYAL WARRANT 155 who dies within seven years as a result of wounds or injuries received in, or of disease contracted on, or aggravated by, active service, receives a " widow s" pension equal to half what would have been her husband's disablement pension at the highest rate ; she also receives full children's allowances ; and on reaching the age of forty-five is. 3d. a week is added to her '* widow's " pension. If, however, she was married to the soldier prior to the commencement of the war (or enlistment), and she can show that her "widow's" pension together with any children's allowances is less than two-thirds of any alterna- tive pension that might have been awarded to her husband had he survived and been incapable of earning anything, she may be granted an alternative pension equal to two-thirds of what would have been her husband's alternative pension, as com- puted above, instead of her " widow's " pension and children's allowances. The highest amount which a widow could obtain as alternative pension would be 50s. A widow undergoing a course of training may be allowed I2S. 6d. a week for thirteen weeks, and her training fees may be paid. A w^idow's pension ceases on re-marriage, but she may then be given a gratuity equal to one year's ** widow's " pension. The widow oi 2, pensioner, who at the time of his death was drawing a pension of not less than los. a week, may, if not otherwise qualified for pension by reason of the death being due to the pensioner's former military service, receive a pension of not more than half her husband's pension, but it must not exceed what would have been her '* widow's " pension and it ceases on re-marriage. Widow whose Husbands Death is not due to Military Service, — Such a widow may be granted a temporary pension of 15s. a week for the period of the war and twelve months afterwards. Dependants. Separated Wives, — The separated wife of a soldier who has died in consequence of military service, may be granted the amount her husband contributed to her support up to 13s. Qd. a week ; if the support was less than 3s. 6d. the pension will be made up to that sum. The usual allowances will be made for 156 REVEILLE the children if maintained by her, even though the man did not contribute to her support. Unmarried Wives. — \i a woman has lived as his wife with a soldier who has died in consequence of military duty, and has been substantially dependent upon him, and has drawn separation allowance, or was entitled to it, she may receive los. a week for the period of the war and twelve months after- wards. If she has children for the soldier in her charge she orets the usual allowances for them and her los. a week con- tinues until twelve months after the last child has gone or has ceased to have pension. If she is too old and infirm to support herself the los. a week may be continued. Parents : Depende7icy Pensions. — The parent (or parents) of a soldier who has died in consequence of military service may get a pension equal to the weekly value of the assistance they may have had from the soldier before the war (or enlist- ment), up to 15s, a week; but the pension will not be less than 3s. 6d. a week, although the assistance may have been less. In reckoning the assistance given the cost of the soldier's keep when he lived at home is deducted. Pensions may be granted in respect of two or more sons who assisted the parents before the war (or enlistment), but the total coming to each parent must not exceed 1 5s. a week. Earnings do not affect these dependency pensions. Parents : Special Pensions. — Parents whose son has died in consequence of his military service, and who are too old or infirm to support themselves, and are in need, and have no other children who can support them, may be granted a pension not exceeding 15s. a week. This pension may be given even though they had had no help from their son. Parents : Special Gratuity. — If the soldier died from causes not due to the war, his parents may be given a gratuity if they were dependent upon him, or if they are too old or infirm to support themselves and are in need. Minor Provisions. — There are also provisions with respect to other dependants, re-marriage, interpretation, &c. Sailors and Marines. The Order in Cpuncil regulating the pensions and allowances of Sailors and Marines disabled and the pensions and allowances THE NEW ROYAL WARRANT 157 to the families of Sailors and Marines deceased, during the present war is practically identical with the Soldiers' Warrant, except that the disablement pension scale is the same for all ratings, additions to pension being made, in accordance with existing regulations, for the possession of good-conduct badges or medal for long service and for petty time or N.C.O. time. Further additions to pension are made in respect of service at the following rates : — - Weekly s. d. Men of 6 years' service and under 12 ^ years' 10 » 12 »» n 18 >» 20 „ 18 n »> 21 11 30 „ 21 »» n 25 >> 40 ,, 25 }> and over ... 50 158 REVEILLE TABLE A. RETURN OF OFFICERS AND MEN PENSIONED FOR DISABILITY FROM OUTBREAK OF WAR TO MAY 31, 1918. Warrant Officers, Ofkickrs Petty Officers, Non-commissioned Officers and Meh Total Army Navy 'Army Navy Eyesight cases ... 97 46 8,911 1,141 10,195 Wounds and injuries to leg (necessitating amputation) ... lOI 4 9,120 223 9,448 Wounds and injuries to arms (necessitating amputation) ... 46 I 4,880 116 5,043 Wounds and injuries to leg (not necessitating amputation) ... 374 16 41,992 444 42,826 Wounds and injuries to arms (not necessitating amputation) ... US I 30,961 382 31,489 Wounds and injuries to hands (not necessi- tating amputation) 31 4 15,382 300 15,717 Wounds and injuries to head 178 7 13,447 558 14,190 Hernia 35 5 2,740 149 2,929 Miscellaneous wounds and injuries ... 392 6 19,007 581 19.986 Chest complaints Tuberculosis 311 251 58) 56 1 37,494 2,985 41,15s Rheumatism 248 38 22,265 1,017 23,568 Heart disease 429 57 34.408 1,675 36,569 Epilepsy 57 6 3.403 231 3,697 Nervous diseases — Shell-shock 170 3 Neurasthenia 706 116 ■ 18,468 1,432 21,283 Miscellaneous 308 80 Insanity 107 26 2.107 576 2,816 Deafness 57 15 6,549 426 7,047 Frost-bite (including cases of amputation of feet or legs) ... 4 — 3,139 — 3,143 Misrpllaneous disabilities— Bright's disease lOI 20 \ Debility 201 6 Ulcer of stomach 69 14 Varicocele ... Enteric and malaria ... 41 217 J 62,959 2,245 66,351 Spinal 29 13 Appendicitis 55 4 Other disabilities 283 69/ Not classified (awards made by War Office and Admiralty which have lapsed or not come up for renewal by Ministry of Pensions) 693 15 — — 708 5.736 711 337,232 14,481 358,160 From this table, which only comprises men and officers finally discharged and pensioned, some conception of the size of the task before us may be gained. — Editor. TABLE B 159 •^ to c/515 2 I ^ o I 2 o S 1/: 3 ^ ~ ^ J3 JU *^ o • (X) i^. ^ tJ c^ I d 2- O o I -"« i-5 I ^ c/5:/5 ^ 60 I i w ow 3 OJ a.— C/3 g - .S -C .S2 .2 S o |c 2 ^ 82-g g •zj • s > _, I 1^- i^ ^a - .5/5 9 S ^.. C/3 o(/2! u .2* u I •a OS « I I If ^s CO ^ o o t; 3 « 4-> T^ ^"^ ^1 O "CJO J; "^ :§ I 1 rr rt ^ O •t; Q .2 " t: i »^' 'n »" 4^ Hr: - -5 « " £fij I E 4, cc >, o 2 a^. I 5 ^S|25i 10 .1: o M^ .'2 I •"^ ^^ 2 rt :£ OCO Ci!^ 3 -= J= ii E « C^ 3 . c £ P3eQe< «3 «-5 » eS fc. o -^^JC i6o REVEILLE I J Li S rt — rt f . c 5 I E.e S iqll o • ^ lo cJ o w «n I O ^ rt rt 52 w .W3 6 I o .2 .- rt ts og 6 L ! ^ 2 ^-4 o £ jj .-H "JS 0/3 =? ag Tsui's ~ ^TS'S JJ ^ Qi ^ c-^-c ■^ B I ^ i^ o 3 c bJD. --■^^^sl J.-^.l _ o biO . *.£ . o.'S o ji w (J - f ^-o o S 3^^^J2^ I I^S.iS -.SSI aj«32 3 O J- M-^ 3 C >^ . ^^ rt 2^:5 .^^i ^0*5 i ll9l'S-^Td-3 = .'^- S S.2 :^-^ 5 I I i-*- w i; /-\ -^ "^ ••-i ■" U3 w rt .-fi ">.£f^ 2-:: •»^ P- _e I _C -^ 3 tJ3. is c « y ■ «l 3"- (U ■<-> • OfiCO •^T^.S^ 3 S T 25^. < 6 iJ 26 C/3 6 I I 6 I 4> OT ^ 3 tfl ^ -i 12 ^ I I o n< L< O "S-S," OJ <u « a (u 3 0) .5 S « ^ '-g I 'S ii J, o ^ .rs S '- iJ bx) .~ c p- « 'O -wiJx: Or/ = <T3 J3 .J5 ■" "JJ «^ I ^^ ^2':5:5 s.H^oi § = rt ^ o .:i c ^ I is -^^ o.iuav'cs^ 't. «<* 'O o *^ ^ "' '^ f> 5 1:^ 2 2 c o 2 -n ;>• .a 4J O C v5 I O --• O C 6 ^W a. ^ S bi)« *Ja I (U ^ do be -3 </5 ^ biO be I ! C bJO rt O A c c »*» o 2 f^ B fci o vo '«a-*' •^ ■)-> a o o o B S VOVO CO c c o o B S 1 .^ 111 Q : h) c < I '? ^ td rt cj r) <u 5 H iS S : .J : < C O ^ 2S « es PS o 2 Z ^ I (/} c c «« b£ >- 2 o b£ B : : 'o o tuB O S B ° I rt D <u^ o<'-■ t: .£ ^ w o Z-S § H = S CJ w "^ et (3^ )-] TABLE B i6i : U) • a •c U ■n s^.s. a. C5 . . : i : i i : gIS 1 i >, ^-1 C/3 I CO (< D f_, - • . . - u : : : : . < I I < 5 a c c »,.S J O tX 4) > — H I > H'S z o i E •^ a '•2 So •31 o S Q w ? 2 I S « a "2 3 5 ^ (« c« 3 o S rt « c 5 B f '3 w o n-. = ^ -Bis § g 3 M g S! S °-- s ^ '5 "S O 3 O ^ "^ .H .2 §S « " - > c 2 C c h. 8 -5 .a" ^ -a -• 2 «5 o 8 S ^ l62 REVEILLE TABLE C. COURSES OF TRAINING UNDER THE MINISTRY OF PENSIONS. NORTHERN AREA. Superintending Inspector— CoXonel C. B. Little, Lloyd's Bank Chambers, Newcastle-on-Tyne Secretary of Joint Disablememt Committee — A. M. Oliver, Esq., Town Clerk's Office Newcaslle-on-Tyne. Local Committee Process Where held Darlington Commercial Durham Newcastle-on-Tyne .. Northumberland South Shields Boot making and repairing .. Retail tailoring Mechanical drawing ... Dental mechanics Boot making ... Boot repairing Cinematography Electrical work Switchboard work Wireless telegraphy ... Clerical work... Motor engineering ... Carpentry Dental mechanics Tailoring Watch and clock repairing .. Motor tractor work ... Poultry farming Motor mechanics Darlington Technical College and Dar- lington Central Commercial School Technical College, Darlington »» »» )i I* Consett Technical School, Durham Cowen Home, Newcastle-on-Tyne Rutherford College, Newcastle-on-Tyne Messrs. George and Jobling, Newcastle- on-Tyne Messrs. Sinclair, Ltd., Benton, New- castle-on-Tyne Motor Sup. Co. s Works, Newcastle- on-Tyne YORKSHIRE AREA. Superintcftding Inspector — E. A. Westaway, Esq. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee — Captain R. G. Angus, Education Offices, Leeds.. Local Committee Barnsley Batley Bradford Huddersfield Process Tailoring Boot repairing Mine deputy work ... Watch and clock repairing ... Commercial ... Electrical engineering Basket making Hand and power loom weaving Colliery sieam tender Surveyors, store-keepers, time- keepers and lampmen, &c. Motor mechanics Dye works' chemists Boot and shoe making and repairing Electrical work Higher commercial work ... Chemistry Tailoring Textile processes and power loom weaving Where held Barnsley Technical School Technical School »» Pindor Oaks Hotel, Barnsley^ Technical School, Batley Technical College, Bradford »» >> Technical College, Huddersfield TABLE C 163 Local Committee Leeds Sheffield Wakefield Process Boot repairing and making ... Tailoring Motor engineering and driving Leather work... Cinematography Chemical work Tram car driving Sanitary inspector ... Commercial ... Electrical engineering Oil-can makers Where held Central Technical School, Leeds Maintenance and typewriters Lettering for printing trades Stencil plate cutting Ticket writing Woodcarving and modelling ... Leeds City Council ... Leeds Central Technical School ... Northern Institute, Leeds ... Central Technical School, Leeds ... T. Webster and Sons, Ltd., Kirkstall, Leeds repairs of Remington Co., Ltd., Leeds Market gardening, breeding, &c. Glass and lamp blowing Silver smithing .... Commercial ... Sign writing ... .« stock Leeds School of Art Leeds Central Technical School and School of Art Leeds University Ex. Farm, Garforth Department of Glass Technology, Leeds Technical Art School and, later, Work- shops, Sheffield Wakefield Technical College ,, School NORTH-WESTERN AREA. Superintending Inspector — The Hon. E. Cozens-Hardy, The Hollies, Woolton, Liverpool. Secretaries— {a) Lancashire and Westmoreland: Sir Harcourt Clare, Council Offices, Preston ; {b) Stockport. Blackburn ... Bolton Bootle Burnley Cheshire Chester Crewe Lancashire ... Liverpool Cheshire : T. W. Potts, Esq., Queen's Buildings, S. Peter's Square, Manchester Motor mechanics and driving Clerical work... Boot making and repairing ... Motor mechanics Textile (all processes) Electrical wiring Commercial subjects... Textile commercial subjects Commercial ... Engineering drawing and tracing Switchboard work Commercial Motor tractor work ... Motor mechanics Agriculture Poultry keeping Dairy farming Clerical work... Boot repairing and making ... Electrical work Cinema operating Building Dental mechanics Drawing and design ... Carving and inlay Cabinet making Clerical work .. Cinematography Sub-station attendants Tailoring Boot making and repairing... Furniture Blackburn Technical School Workshops in Blackburn Technical School, Bolton Bootle Electrical Works Technical College, Burnley >» t» Verdin Technical Institute, Northwich Electricity Works, Chester Miss Davies, Business Training College, Chester Crewe Technical Institute »» »» County Council Farm,Hutton,nr.Preston Moseley Street School, Liverpool Friends* Institute, Islington, Liverpool Central Technical School, Liverpool " ." " Liverpool Technical School City School of Art, Liverpool »» »f >f »» >» >i Moseley Street School, Manchester School of Technology, Manchester »» »» Mill Street School, Ancoats, Manchester )> >> >f College of Technology, Manchester 164 REVEILLE I>oc.-i! Committee Nelson Preston Salford Stockport St. Helens Westmoreland Wigan Process Watch and clock repairing ... Jewellery making and re- pairing Dental mechanics Wireless telegraphy Painting and decorating Assistant designers and clerks (textile) Clerical work Elementary woodwork Boot and shoe making and repairing Bespoke tailoring Boot repairing and making ... Motor driving and repairing... Plumbing Steam tractor driving Painting and decorating Basket making Boot repairing Tram caf^ riving Motor driving Boot making and repairing ... Bespoke tailoring Motor mechanics and driving Coalmining Clogging Where held Mill Street School, Ancoats Messrs. Pendlebury's, Ltd., Manchester Dental Hospital of Manchester City School of Wireless, Manchester Municipal School of Art, Manchester Municipal Textile School, Nelson Preston Technical School Hostel Local Technical School, Preston Victoria Technical School, Preston Race Course, Cromwell Road, Salford »» >> >> Technical Institute and Local Work- shops Garage lent by Bleachers' Association, Salford Royal Technical Institute, Salford »» >> >> Old Grammar School, Stockport The New St. Helens and District Tramway Co. Blake School of Motoring, St. Helens Allen Technical School, Kendal .". " . " Mining and Technical College, Wigan Mining College, Wigan Workshops of Master Cloggers, Wigan EAST MIDLANDS AREA. Superintending Inspector — W. E. Hincks, Esq., 8, Highcross Street, Leicester. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee — F. W. Brooke, Milton Chambers, Milton Street, Nottingham. Derbyshire Leicestershire Lficetter Lindsey Northamptoii Nottingham . Boot and shoe repairing Agriculture, and cottage produce Acetylene welding ... Commercial subjects... Electrical work Painting and decorating Light gardening and work Basket work ... making and home and dairy Mechanical engineering Printing Carpentry Bookbinding Comptometer operating Boot making and repairing ... Hosiery manufacture Hosiery salesmanship Electrical work Boot and shoe machinery ... Ticket writing Cabinet making Sign writing Tailoring Motor tractor work Commercial subjects... Chemistry and dispensing ... Mechanical engineering Derbyshire Workshops Midland Agricultural and Dairy College and Farms, Kingston-on-Soar Loughborough Technical School >) »> »> »» Loughborough Institute Midland Agricultural and Dairy College and Farms, Kingston-on-Soar Messrs. Peach and Pick, Dryad Lane Works and Tech. College, Leicester Municipal Tech. Art School, Leicester Comptometer Training School, Leicester Municipal Technical School, Leicester The Garage, Newland, Lincoln Northampton Technical School University College, Nottingham TABLE C 165 Local Committee Nottinghamshire Soke of Peterboro' Process Fancy leather work Circular latch needle web knitting Cabinet making Boot making and repairing ... Making of fruit baskets Basket making Gardening Furniture Commercial subjects... Where held Boulevard Manufacturing Co. . 1 1 , Byard Lane, Nottingham Messrs. J. B. Lewis and Co., Haydn Road, Nottingham University College, Nottingham Technical School, Nottingham, to arrange premises Horace Mills, Newark-on-Trent Trent Basket Co., Newark-on-Trent Local Gardeners, Soke of Peterboro' Mr. J. W. Williamson, Peterboro' Commercial School, Peterboro' WEST MIDLANDS AREA. Superintending Inspector — B. Plummer, Esq., 17, New Street, Leicester. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee — Major T. J. Richardson, Council House, Birmingham. Birmingham Dudley Smethwick ... StafiFordshire... Stoke-on-Trent Walsall Warwickshire West Bromwich Wolverhampton Motor work ... Mechanical engineering Attendants at Poor Law Institutes Making of artificial limbs Commercial ... Jewellery and silversmithing Boot repairing Art metal work Furniture Clerical work... Electrical work Cinematography Dental mechanics Diamond cutting Golf club making Leather work..; Pen grinding ... Piano tuning ... Boot repairing Lamp work ... Electrical wiring General office work ... Signwriting and lettering Mechanical engineering Market gardening Box making ... Sub-station attendants Leather Boot repairing Tailoring Boot making and repairing Brush making Village saddlery Cabinet making Chair making... Upholstery Tailoring Motor engineering ... Electrical engineering General iron work, sheet metal work Motor tractor work ... Comm^cial Garages in City of Birmingham Technical Institute, Birmingham Monyhull Colony, Birmingham Outside firms under Local Committee Lawrence's College, Birmingham Vittoria Street School, Birmingham Birmingham District Bootmakers' Association, Birmingham Technical Institute, Birmingham >> »» Municipal Tech. School, Birmingham jj »» >> Various Local Cinemas Army Dental Workshops, Birmingham Ginder and Ginder, Birmingham County Chemical Co., Bradford Street, Birmingham Municipal Tech. School, Birmingham Marrian's, Gt. Barr Street, Birmingham Riley's, Constitutional Hill, Birmingham Messrs. Little, at Netherton Thomson Glass Co., Dudley Smethwick Technical Institute County Met. and Eng. In., Wednesbury Mr. T. B. Kay, Trentham Messrs. Nicholson and Lord, Walsall Various firms in Walsall Local factories in Walsall Messrs. T. Shannon, Walsall Midland Counties' Institute, Knowle Various village saddlers in County Messrs. A. G. Turley, West Bromwich Messrs. Morrisand Dixon, W. Bromwich Technical Institute, Wolverhampton School of Commerce, Wolverhampton 1 66 REVEILLE Committee Worcestcrthire Worcester Process Boot repairing Basket making Motor mechanics Glass work Boot making and repairing Where held Workshops in County Local workshops in County ,, garages in County Messrs. Webb and Corbett, Stourbidge Local workshops in Worcester SOUTH MIDLANDS AREA. Superintending Inspector — Wills Taylor, Esq. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee-^C. R. Hoare, Esq., Pinner's Hall, London, E.G. 2. Hertfordshire ... Market gardening Huntingdon... ... Basket making Luton ... ... Straw hat making Watford Electrical work Light bench fitting work and brass finishing The Floral Farm, London Colony, St. Albans Earith Factory in Clarendon Road, Luton Watford Electric Manufacturing Co. EAST ANGLIA AREA. Superintending /«j/«<:^<;r— Brigadier-General T. B. Ternan, C.B., C.M.G., D.S.O. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee— <), Petty Cury Chambers, Cambridge. Cambs. East Suflfolk... Ipswich Isle of Ely Norfolk Norwich Retail bespoke tailoring Fruit and vegetable culture ... Sign and ticket writing Furniture making Light metal work Jewellery Fruit gardening, flowers and vegetable Motor engineering Forestry Small holders' course Boot making and repairing ... Metal work ... Engraving Commercial Agricultural motor tractor ... Engineering (electrical) School of Art, Cambridge HoUesey Farm Colony, East Suffolk Under Local Education Authority »> f» Municipal School of Art, Ipswich >» »> »» Twelve fruit growers in the Isle of Ely Messrs. Mann, Egerton and Co., Bury St. Edmunds Earl of Leicester, Holkham Colonel Petre, Westwick Wiveton Hall, Norfolk Technical Institute, Norvich School of Art, Norwich Technical Institute, Norwich HOME COUNTIES (NORTH) AREA. Superintending Inspector — Wills Taylor, Esq., 19, Abingdon Street, S.W. i. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee— 'W . P. Harding, Esq., Town Hall, Wood Green. Colchester Edmonton Middlesex Tottenham West Ham Willesden Tailoring Bask^'t making Boot repairing Dental mechanics Motor engineering ... Coach painting Basket making Glass drawing from furnaces Commercial Electrical engineering Ace'ylene welding ... Boot and shoe repairing Biscuit making Market gardening Pig and poultry keeping Premises of Crowther Bros., Colchester Technical Institute, Edmonton G. Thackeray, Ealing G. H. Standen, Southall Mr. Summers, Hounslow Central Engineering Works, Northwood Mr. Dunkley, Ealing Hounslow Polytechnic Messrs. R. Johnston, Yiewsley Tottenham Polytechnic « Technical Institute, West Ham »» »» >» Willesden Polytechnic McVitie and Price, Ltd., Willesden Church Army Gardens, Willesden TABLE C 167 SOUTH-EASTERN COUNTIES AREA. Superintending Inspector — Brigadier-General D. G. Ptinsep, 19, Abingdon Street, S.W. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee — 9, Pembroke Avenue, Hove. Local Committee («) Kent ... \V\ Surrey... Croydon Wimbledon (f) West Sussex Worthing (<jO East Sussex Brighton Process Fruitgrowing Agriculture ... Boot repairing Boot making and repairing. Electrical wiring Trunk making Basket making Agriculture ... Mechanical drawing and tracing Electrical work „ Art metal and metal plate The Limes, Luton work Whitesmith and tinsmith's „ „ work Brush making Cabinet making Commercial subjects... Surveying Cricket-ball making ... Dispensing Photography ... Fruit-basket making... Where held Fruit farms in Kent Wye College, Kent Factories and workshops in Kent Messrs. Randall and Co., Maidston* Chatham Dockyard Tunbridge Wells Technical Institute Messrs. J. Farman, Langley, near Maidstone Hurst Place, Sidcup Erith Technical Institute Messrs. Conchman, Maidstone S. P. Saunders, Maidstone Maidstone Technical Institute Rochester Technical Institute Messrs. T. Ives, Tonbridge Tunbridge Technical Institute Cricket and hockey ball making Motor tractor work and market gardening Estate work ... Commercial subjects Boot repairing Commercial classes ... Electrical work Brass engraving Builders' drawing and tracing Electrical work Engineer's drawing and tracing French polishing and cabinet making Letter writing and illuminating Motor engineering ... Pottery design Stained glass work ... Tailoring Photography ... Motor tractor work ... Carpentry and Joining Commercial work Horticulture Handy men's class ... Fruitgrowing... Agriculture ... Fruit growing under glass ... Watch and clock repairing ... Boot repairing Gardening and estate work... Boot repairing Commercial design work Commercial subjects... Confectionery Otford Co-operative Trading ciation Messrs. A. Reader and Co., Teston, near Maidstone Woldingham Ockham Park, Ripley Kingston-on-Thames Technical Institute Woking Technical Institute Central Polytechnic, Croydon >» >i j> Wimbledon Technical Institute Local firms, Wimbledon Technical Institute, Wimbledon Barnham Nurseries 160 farms, &c., in Sussex Local fruit growers Mr. Alfred Tames, Worthing Mr. T. Bailey, Crowboro' Eridge Castle, East Sussex Municipal Technical College, Brighton 1 68 REVEILLE Local Committee Process Diamond cutting and polishing Diamond cutting engineers... Dispensing Electrical work Electrical wiring Furniture trade Letter cutting Mechanical drawing and tracing Sign writing and lettering ... Surveying Tailoring Metal turning and fitting ... Hairdressing Where held Municipal Technical College, Brighton Eastbourne ... Boot repairing Hastings ... Baking and confectionery ... Horsham ... Motor tractor work Hove ... ... Ladies' tailoring Bread baking Storekeepers, packers, sales- man Storekeepers and clerks (two schemes) Engine and boiler fitters Technical Institute and local hair- dressers, Brighton Caddies' Workshop, Royal Eastbourne Golf Club Private firms, local Rice Bros., Horsham Mr. William Hill, Hove Clarke's Bread Co. , Hove Automobile Accessory Co., Hove Automobile Accessory Co., and Brighton Gas Co. Brighton and Hove General Gas Co. SOUTHERN AREA. Superintending Inspector — Brig. -Gen. Phipps Hornby, V.C, C.B., C.M.G., The Cedars, London Road, Reading. Secretary of Joint Disablement Cammittee—YL. C. Pratt, Esq., Mayor's Office, Town Hall, Portsmouth. Local Committee (a) Berkshire Reading (^) Hampshire Bournemouth Portsmouth Process Horticulture ... Agriculture ... Estate work General farm work ... Saw milling Motor tractor work ... Electric lighting General estate engine work ... Dairy work (co wkeeping) . . . Butter making Poultry keeping Horticulture Market gardening Steam tractor work ... Motor tractor driving and repairing Market gardening Fruit growing under glass ... Drilling Drilling and milling ... Fitting, turning, and finishing Art pottery Boot repairing Fancy leather work ... Tailoring Clerical work Electrical engineering General engineering ... Motor tractor work ... brass Where held Royal Gardens, Windsor Col. Morrison's Estate, Basildon College Farm, Shinfield British Dairy Institute, Reading College Farm Institute, ,, »» »» >, Messrs. W. H. Rogers & Sons, Bassett Messrs. Tasker, Andover cv^;ro;i^ Messrs. Collis & Tilling, Andover T. Smith, Wych Lane, FarehamM Messrs. J. B. Groom & Son, Gosf)ort Messrs. White Bros., Itchen, South- ampton Messrs. Dixon Messrs. White and Thornycroft (see above) Art Pottery Works, Poole Boj^rnemouth Municipal College Portsmouth Municipal College TABLE C 169 Local Commttee Southampton (c) Buckingham- shire {d) Oxfordshire Oxford Process Boot making and repairing j» »» _ »i »» Brush making Motor driving Cinemas Electrical engineering Commercial ... Minor machine operators Furniture Boot repairing Tailoring Electrical engineering Boot making and repairing Where held Portsmouth Municipal College Technical College, Portsmouth John Palmer, Ltd., Portsmouth R.N. A., Eastney Barracks, Portsmouth Theatres of Cinema Exhib. Association Hartley University Coll., Southampton >> >> »> Messrs. Thornycroft & Co., ,, Local factories and workshops in county Local county workshops in Oxfordshire Local county workshops Works of the Burford, &c., Electric Light and Power Co. , Ltd., and other centres Workshops under Local Committees and Technical School SOUTH-WESTERN AREA. Superintending Inspector — ^J. RadclifFe, Esq., 8, The Close, Exeter. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee— H. W. Wood, 8, The Qose, Exeter. (a) Gloucester- shire Bath Bristol Gloucester Swindon (i) Wiltshire Agriculture Hand-loom weaving ... Ticket writing Lettering for commercial art purposes Basket making Commercial ... Commercial ... Boot repairing and making ... Clerical work... Electrical handymen... Tailoring Tailoring Toymaking ... Clerical work... Ticket writing Engineer's tracers Builders' draughtsmen Designers Manual instruction ... Furniture Brass work Brush making Carpentry Cabinet work... Jewellery Silver work ... Pottery Printing Estate carpentry Basket making Fruit culture ... Painting and decorating Writing and illuminating ... Chemical work Commercial work Jewellery and enamelling ... Light woodwork French polishing Engineers' tracers Mechanical drawing Metal plate work Lettering and signwriting ... Gloucestershire Farmers' Union Humphreys and Co., Stroud School of Arts and Crafts, Gloucester Mr. Henry Finch, Gloucester Technical School Technical School, Guildhall, Bath Merchant Venturers College, Bristol Messrs. Ridingberry and Co., Bristol Clark's College Municipal School of Art, Bristol Municipal Sch, of Industrial Art, Bristol Royal Blind Asylum, Bristol »> >» Municipal Sch. of Industrial Art, Bristol Technical School, Bristol Technical Institute, Gloucester Technical Institute, Swindon 170 REVEILLE Lacal Committee {c) Devonshire Process Pottery design Poultry keeping and gardening Stained glass work Woodcarving ... Motor tractor work Motor repair work ... Power loom weaving... Painting of agricultural imple- ments and road vehicles Painting leading to lining ... Boot making and repairing . . . Where held Technical Institute, Swindon Messrs. Skurray's Works, Swindon Royal Carpet Factory Co. , Wilton E. W. Maundrell, Colne, Wilts E. C. Chequers, Chippenham, Wilts Messr. Ford and Penny, Ilfracombe NORTH WALES AREA. Superintending Inspector — W. Lewis, Esq., Ministry of Pensions, Bangor. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee — G. Lerry, Esq., 4, Overton Arcade, Wrexham. Denbighshire Flintshire ... Carnarvonshire Market gardening ... Electrical wiring and fitting... Repairers to gas and electri- cal plant Repair and maintenance of public lamps Electrical wiring Blacksmithing Cabinet-making Clogging Coach painting and wheel- wrighting Painting and paperhanging ... Toy-making ... Electrical work Clerical work Toy-making ... Watch repairing Boot repairing Wrexham Garden Village ,, Corporation Elec. Dept. Colwyn Bay Urban District Council Broughton Plas Power Colliery Co. Messrs. Francis and Sons, Colwyn Bay Messrs. W. Aston and Sons, Johnstown Messrs. Fletcher, Wrexham Messrs. Fletcher and Sons, Colwyn Bay Inspector of measures Automatic machine work ... Switchboard work ... Cable jointer and meter fixer Agriculture Forestry Mr. E. Jones, Wrexham North Wales Toy Factory, Colwyn Bay Messrs. H. D. Carter. Colwyn Bay Education Offices, Ruthin Vale of Clwyd Toy Workshop Messrs. Butt and Co., Wrexham Messrs. Fletcher, Wrexhaip Mr. W. Dodman ,, weights and County Inspector „ Phoenix Works, Rhuddlan Rhyl Electricity Works Rhyl Urban District Council Madryn Castle Farm School Gwydyr Ucht, Rhydyeran, Penrhyn SOUTH WALES AREA. Superintending Inspector — T. L Secretary of Joint Local Committee Cardifif Glamorgan Jenkins, Esq., Rooms 6 and 7 Castle Square, Swansea. Disablement Committee — S. Auckland, Esq Chambers, Cardiff. Metropolitan Bank Buildings, 28-30, Western Mail Process Horticulture Boot-making and repairing .. Commercial Tailoring Cinema work... Electrical work (mining) Mechanical work (mining) .. Chemical work (mining) Surveyors and tracers Magneto works Where held Green Farm Colony, Ely, Cardift Technical Institute, Cardiff Penylan Cinema, Cardiff Treforest School of Mines TABLE C 171 Local Committee Process Newport ... Clerical work Jewellery Architectural Draughtsman- ship Cabinet-making Upholstery Rhondda Boot repairing Swansea ... Dental mechanics Motor mechanics Engineering draughtsmanship Cleaning and making of jewellery Watch and clock repairing ... Motor tractor work Radnorshire . . . ... Massage and electro-medical treatment Llanelly ... .. Commercial ». Where held Technical College, Newport >>^ »» ff Technical Institute, ,, Council School, Llwynypia Technical College, Swansea School of Arts and Crafts, Swansea Technical Institute, Rock Spa Rock Spa Institute, Llandrindod Wells Higher Elementary School, Llanelly NORTH SCOTLAND AREA. Suptrintmding Inspector — Major Sir John Sinclair, Bt., D.S.O., 10, Allyn Terrace, Aberdeen. tertiary of Joint Disablement Contmittte — W. Murison, Esq., County Buildings, Aberdeen. Aberdeen Architecture Electrical work Cookery (nautical) ... Artistic wood and metal work Stonecutters and masons Boot repairing Wireless telegraphy ... Commercial work Agriculture ... Mechanical engineering Languages Hand work ... Robert Gordon Tech. College, Aberdeen Scottish Wireless College, Aberdeen Under School Board and at Laurence's School of Shorthand, Aberdeen Agricultural College, Craibstone Robert Gordon Tech. College, Aberdeen ♦f »» »> School Board of Aberdeen CENTRAL SCOTLAND AREA. Superintending Inspector — W. B. Sievwright Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee — F. L. Dundee. Dundee ... ... Agriculture ... Boot making and repairing ... Cinematography Motor tractor work ... Clerical work... Gardening Cabinet making Flfeshire Mining Electrical engineering Mechanical engineering Recording Perthshire ... ... Forestry ... * Gardening , 6, Rutland Square, Edinburgh. Humphrey, Esq.,, 30, Whitehall Street Technical Collie, Dundee St. Andrew's Provincial College, Dundee Messrs. Justice and Sons, Dundee School of Mining, Cowdenbeath Fife Mining School, Cowdenbeath Keir, Dunblane SOUTH-EAST SCOTLAND AREA. Superintending Inspector — W. B. Sievwiight, Esq., 6, Rutland Square, Edinburgh. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee — Sir Thomas Hunter, City Chambers, Edinburgh. Edinburgh Furniture Tynecastle School and Workshops, Edinburgh Boot-making and repairing ... West Founiainbridge School, Edinburgh Commercial ... ... ... Edinburgh School Board Dental mechanics Dental Hospital and School, Edinburgh 172 REVEILLE Local Committee Galashiels Haddington .. Hawick Process Engineering drawing Engineering, motor ... Motor tractor work ... Sub-station work Tailoring Electrical work Woollen manufacturers Agriculture Tweed and hosiery manu- facture Where held Hejriot Watt College, Edinburgh >> a Tynecastle School and Workshops, &c., Edinburgh Heriot Watt College, Edinburgh Tynecastle School and Workshops, &c., Edinburgh Heriot Watt College, Edinburgh South Scotland Technical Ccjllege, Galashiels Ground of Scot. Vets., Longniddry Technical Institute and local factories SOUTH-WEST SCOTLAND AREA. Superintending Inspector— ]. F. Shillaker, Esq., 38, Bath Street, Glasgow. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee— Yi. R. S. Wood, Esq., 48, West Nile Street Glasgow (a) Ayrshire ... Fancy box making ... Beekeeping Glasgow {b) Lanarkshire .. (4 Dumfriesshire Renfrewshire Poultry keeping Gardening Hand tailoring Mine firemen ... Wireless telegraphy ... Boot making and repairing Cinematography Commercial classes ... Furniture Motor mechanics Hair dressing,,. Box making .., Saw milling ... Toy making Tweed weaving Mechanical draughtsmen Architectural drawing Commercial classes ... Woodwork Woodcarving and toymaking Art Hand loom weaving ... Chemistry Electrical work Motor car management Ships' cooks Tweed mending Farming Gardening French polishing Machinery Upholstery Cabinet making Chair making.,. NORTH IRELAND AREA. W. A. Smith, Ltd., Mauchline West of Scotland Agricultural College, Kilmarnock West of Scotland Agricultural College, Kilmarnock West of Scotland Agricultural College, Kilmarnock Technical College, Glasgow Messrs. R. and J. Allen, Glasgow B.B. Cinemas, Glasgow Athenaeum, Glasgow Apex Motor Engineering Co., Glasgow Mr. Jones' Workrooms, 61, Park Road, Glasgow Messrs. Anderson and Henderson, Kinning Park Saw Mills Messrs. A. and J. MacNab, Strathaven Dumfries Academy Crichton Royal Institution, Dumfries »> »» It Messrs. J. McGregor, Peterfield, Renfrew Superintending Inspector— H. G. Stevenson, Esq., 24, Mayfair, Belfast. Secretary of /oint Disablement Committee— 2^, Wellington Street, Belfast. Belfast Commercial work Boot repairing Tailoring Skerry's College, Belfast Technical School, ,, TABLE C 173 Local Conunittcft Portadown .. Londonderry Co. Armagh*. Process Trunk and bag making Jewellery Hair dressing Hotel servants Cloth passers... Commercial Clog making and boot repairing Where held Messrs. Erskine & Sons, Ltd., Belfast Messrs. McDowell, High Street, Belfast Technical School, Belfast Various hotels Technical School, Portadown Hughes Academy, Foyle Street Jos. Hoy, Armagh MIDLAND IRELAND AREA. Superintending Inspector— C A. Pim, Esq., 42, York Street, Dublin. Secretary of /oint Disablement Committee— /^2, York Street, Dublin. Dublin King's County Basket making Furniture making ... Toy making ... Care of horses Optical instruments Motor mechanics Boot repairing Manufacture of artificial limbs Carpentry Clerical Cutlery repairing Hotel servants Tailors' cutters Watch and clock jobbing ... Forestry Rough gardening Toy making ... Soldiers' and Sailors* Help Society, Dublin Riding Academy, Dublin Sir Howard Grubb & Sons, Dublin Dublin Technical School Grendon & Sons, Kingstown Messrs. Smith & Sheppard, Dublin Disabled Soldiers Workshops, Dublin Ross's College, Mr. Sparkwell Brown, Dublin Messrs. Thoman, Read & Co., Dublin Various hotels, Dublin Messrs. Horan's Workshops, Dublin Messrs. West, Weir, and Chancellor & Sons, Dublin Department of Agriculture and Techni- cal Instruction for Ireland Albert Agric. Coll., Glasnevin Messrs. Alesbury, Edenderry SOUTH IRELAND AREA. Superintending Inspector — C. A. Pim, Esq., 42, York Street, Dublin. Secretary of Joint Disablement Committee — City Hall, Cork, County Cork ... Gardening Castle Martyr, Co. Cork Tool and implement handle ,, ,, maker « Tipperary Boot and shoe repairing ... Training Centre in Tipperary Harness repairing „ ,, Waterford Commercial Technical Institute, Waterford' Basket and hamper making — LONDON AREA. Superintending Inspector — Wills Taylor, Esq., 19, Abingdon Street, S.W.i Secretary — Mrs. Wood, 43, Bloomsbury Square, London, W.C.i. London Cinema work ... Tailoring Electrical work Commercial work Architectural draughtsman- ship Boot repairing and making .. Leather goods Motor mechanics Dental mechanics Furniture Regent Street Polytechnic Cordwainers' College Workshops Battersea Polytechnic Borough Polytechnic Shoreditch Technical Institute 174 REVEILLE Local Committee Process Chairmaking Cutting of precious stones Military embroidery ... Press and tool making Baking and confectionery Cigar making... Scientific glass blowing Leather work... Lip reading Nautical cookery Printing Scientific instrument making Gold and silver smiths' work Watch and clock repairing .. Cabinet making Furniture : drawing and design ,, machine work ... ,, upholstery ,, wood carving Where held Shoreditch Technical Institute Workshops Miss Symonds, 399, Oxford Street Metalcrafts Trainmg Institute Borough Polytechnic Workshops Muller, Orme and Co., Holbom Cordwainers' Technical College Fitzroy Lip Reading College Sailors's Home School St. Bride's Institute Various Workshops School of Arts and Crafts Northampton Polytechnic and Horo- logical Institute Shoreditch Technical Institute School of Art, Kensington, and Work- shops John Bale, Sows awp Dakielssok, Ltd., 83-91, Great Titchfield Street, London, W. i. Advertisements xxtU COTTRELL'S IMPROVED ASEPTIC NEEDLES. (INTERCHANGEABLE) Made in two sizes ^ f inch and f inch. LONG AND SHORT POINTS. Special points and lengths made to special order. ^ These Needles are made from the finest tempered steel, the flexibility is such that they will not break nor crumple up when injecting the fluid into tjfie tissues. ^ The heads are made from a special metal (gilded) which will not spread unduly. They form a sufficiently flexible cushion in the nozzle for the head of the syringe to embed itself in, thus preventing leakage. Having laid down extensive machinery we are in a position to manufacture at very short notice all styles of : SURGICAL ASEPTIC NEEDLES. Samples and prices submitted on application. THE APTUS SUCTION DISC is the only disc made carrying a self-clearing aluminium or gold stud. ^ It is designed so as to make artificial plates adhere to flat mouths. ^ It is most efficacious, and will hold a denture in place when all other means feul. ^ It is quickly adapted. THE STUD WITH RUBBER IN POSITION ON VULCANITE PLATE. PRICES ON APPLICATION. Pr\TTT?l?T T fir C\(\ Manufacturers and Dezilers in UliXXI\£iljlu CX V>V/«, Dental Material and Appliances. 15-17, CHARLOTTE STREET, LONDON, W. ZZTlll Advertisements C. E. GALE ARTIFICIAL LIMB CO., LTD., 153, Hammersmith Road, West Kensington, LONDON, 1S'.14. The Celebrated American Limbs and Instruments. Advantages of Gale's Patents and Improvennents : — THE STANDARD NON-CHAFING ADJUSTABLE SOCKETS. THE LIGHTEST AND STRONGEST LIMBS MADE. THE MOST DURABLE. THE MOST COMFORTABLE TO WEAR. PERFECT ARTICULATION AND NATURAL. ACTION IN ALL JOINTS. PERFECT FIT GUARANTEED BY OUR METHODS. We cordially extend an invitation to investigate and convince yourself of the merit of our production over ail other makes. Telephone: 4780 Central. Established 1852. BILLIARDS is the Finest Indoor Game GEORGE EDWARDS, Ltd. Make the FINEST BILLIARD TABLES. Billiard and Bagatelle Table Manufacturers, KINQSLAND BILLIARD WORKS KINQSLAND ROAD, LONDON, N.E, Prices on application. Contractors to the War Office. Advertisements ZXIX Automatic Electric STERILISER (PATENT) Automatic tray, which withdraws from, and drains the water in the one operation of lifting the lid. Showing the removable Hotpoint Electric Unit fully guaranteed. The " Omega " Steriliser Heater can be re- paired or replaced by any inexperienced worker. Electric Immersion Heater for ' sterilising or the heating of liquids. 21/. Electric Hotpad, con- structed of flexible metal. Maintained temperatures of 100 or 200^ F. Supplied also for wet-pack application. 30/ - G. HAWKINS & COMPANY, 38, POLAND STREET, LONDON, W. 1. Crrard 6r21 Advertisements The Albee Electro-Operative Bone Set. LET NATURE'S OWN MATERIAL MEND UNUNITED FRACTURES. By using Dr. Fred H. Albee's technique and the Genuine Albee Electro- Operative Surgery Outfit you are sure of success. It is the only one in which the automatic chuck is bound to be sterilized with the shell. Ask your Dealer for detailed information and price list. New Fracture and Orthopaedic Table (Designed by Dr. Geo. W. Hawley, Assistant Surgeon at the Hospital for Kuptured and Crippled, New York.) This table was designed to provide for the suspension and immobilization of the extremities and trunk without lifting or disturbing the patient. The flat table top is made so that the large section drops, leaving a hip rest and back rest projecting. The head end moves on rollers so that it can be adjusted to fit different subjects* The table can also be used for the application of jackets (recumbent position), spica after excision of the breast, also in hernia work. Manufactured by THE KNY-SCHEEKER CORPOBATION, 404-10, West 27th Street, NEW YORK CITY. Sole British Agents : — M. FAVARQER & CO., 34, Bloomsbury Square, London, W.C.i. To be obtained through High-class Surgical Instrument Houses. GOLD MEDAL. DIPLOMA OF HONOUR. GRAND PRIX. Member of the Jury and Hors Concours at International Exhibition. AMYCAINE (Bi-Hydrochloride of Amyleine and Novocain). The New French Anaesthetic. A substitute seven times less Toxic than Cocain. Non-irritant, powerfully Haemostatic. It is antiseptic and unaffected either by heat or light, while its action is rapid and lasting. AMYCAINE Is the finest Anaesthetic for both General and Local Ancesthesia, supporting the heart and preventing the collapse of the patient owing to its powerful H/EMOSTATIC PROPERTIES. It has none of the disadvantages of Cocain or Chloroform. No unpleasant'.after effects occur In the employment of AMYCAINE. Opinion of a Public Health Officer :— "I liave usedjyour AMYCAINE and find it very satisfactory." M.D., D.P.H. SAMPLE AND LITERATURE ON APPLICATION. Sole Agents for Great Britain, Colonies, Dominions and U.S.A. : 45, WOOL EXCHANGE, LONDON, E.G. 2. 'Phone : Central 8502. ' Inland Telegravis : " Abrezical, 'Phone, London. A. BREZET & CO., ' Advertisements xxxi IMPORTANT MEDICAL BOOKS. PUBLISHED MONTHLY. ARCHIVES OF RADIOLOGY AND ELECTROTHERAPY (ARCHIVES OF THE ROENTGEN RAY). The Official Organ of the British Association of Radiology and Physiotherapy. Tlie origiyial and leading journal in the English language devoted to the stiidy and practice of Roentgenology and Electrotherapeutics. Annual Subscription, payable in advance, SOs. n. Single Copies, 3s. MALINGERING OR THE SIMULATION OF DISEASE. By A. Bassett Jones, M.B., etc., and Llewellyn J. Llewellyn, M.B., etc. Royal 8vo. 708 pages. 258. n. British Medical JoMmal.—" The work is practical and very comprehensive. We believe this will come to be regarded as a standard medico-legal text-book on the subject of malingering." Lancet— "An encyclopaedia of differential diagnosis. This genuine achievement deservts the widest recognition and appreciation." FIBROSITIS (GOUTY, INFECTIVE, TRAUMATIC), SO- CALLED CHRONIC RHEUMATISM. By Ll. Jones Llewellyn, M.B.Lond., Senior Physician, Royal Mineral Water Hospital, Bath, etc., and A. Bassett Jones, M.B.Lond., Late Senior Surgeon, Cardiganshire General Hospital, etc. Royal Svo. 6 Coloured Plates, 136 Illustrations. 25s. n. . British Medical Journal.— The book should be widely read, not only for the good sense and novelty of its contents, but also because it contains a mine of information on the cause, diagnosis and treatment of a group of painful affections so common as to be commonplace — and therefore perhaps unduly neglected — in general medical practice." Lawc«(.— "The volume is well printed and illustrated with some good coloured prints and photographs. It is a thorough and searching study of one of the most difficult spheres of clinical medicine." WAR SHOCK. THE PSYCHONEUROSES IN WAR; PSYCHOLOGY AND TREATMENT. By U. D. Eder, M.R.C.S., L.R.C.P. Crown Svo. 5s. n. Britith Medical Journal.— '^ A very readable book." Medical Times. — "Dr. Eder's contribution to the study of war shock is most practical. The book should be widely read and should be in the hands of every Officer of the R.A.M.C. MEDICAL DIAGNOSIS FOR THE STUDENT AND PRACTITIONER. By Charles Lyman Grebne, M.D., etc. 14 Coloured Plates and 548 other Illustrations. Royal Svo. 1,302 pages. 42s. n. British Journal of Tuberculosis.— " An wp-to-diLte all-embracing, scientific and practical exposition of all that is of proven value in modern diagnostic methods. It is written by a long experienced teacher of medical students, and affords just the guidance and enlightenment which the student and practitioner of to-day stands in need ox." ELEMENTS OF FIELD HYGIENE AND SANITATION. By Joseph H. Ford, B.S., etc., Colonel Medical Corps, U.S. Army. Approved for publication by the Surgeon General, U.S. Army. Crown Svo. 248 pages, with 152 Illustrations. 6s. net. Disease has killed more soldiers than powder and shot, and has occasioned the defeat of many armies But when so much other military knowledge must be acquired, a description of how troops are kept healthy should be brief. This work, therefore, considers only those points that are of proven value. EMERGENCY SURGERY. By John W. Sluss. Fourth Edition. Large Crown 8vo. 848 pages, 685 Illustrations. 17s. 6d. n. British Medical Journal.— "The work appears fully to carry out what is intended. The various surgical operations and manipulations are clearly described, and the text is well illustrated." Lantet.—* 'This edition maintains the excellence of the earlier issues, and the additions made by the author have brought it up to the level of the recent advance of surgery." WILLIAM HEINEMANN (Medical Books Limited), 20, BEDFORD STREET, W.C. 2. xxxii Advertisements MR. WILLIAM HEINEMAHM'S WS BOOKS. GENTLEMEN-AT-ARMS. By " Centurion " of Land and Water. 6s. n. " Centurion " is the pen-name of an officer who has served on the staS in France. His stories are based partly on personal experiences and partly on the experiences of fellow officers with whom he was brought into contact. The author has been acclaimed by competent critics as a new master of the short story, OUTWITTING THE HUN. By Lieut. Pat O'Brien, R.F.C. 6s. n. One of the strangest and most thrilling narratives told since the outbreak of war. Lieutenant O'Brien was shot down from a height of 8,000 feet and taken prisoce* by the Germans. The story of his escape, with its almost incredible adventures, is one that no reader can put down until the last page has been turned. A DIARY WITHOUT DATES. {Third Large Impression), By Enid Bagnold. F'cap 8vo. 2s. 6d. n. "A book that will live on."— Morning Post. "Subtly, but in an unmi.-ttakable manner, she reveals not only the life of the hospital and the doctora and nurses who staff it, but also of the soldier-patients themselves, aad her own ' soul ' as well." — The Tatler, ENGLISHMAN, KAMESAD. By Captain Gilbert Nobbs. 3s. 6d. n. " It is a remarkable book. It is vivid, biting at times, but full of clear-cut pictures of life at the basei in the fightinjj line, in the German prison camps, poignant at times, but nownere more flaming than whe^|^ he tells of liis swift ascent out of the valley of the Shadow back to li'e. He has also the dramatic touch. He has the gift, and we should like to read moie from him."— Yorkshire Observer. Mr. GALSWORTHY'S NEW BOOK. FIVE TALES. By John Galsworthy. 6s. n. A new book by Mr, Galsworthy needs no introduction. This volume will probably be one of the most popular amongst his works. The titles of the stories included are "The First and the Last," "A Stoic," "The Apple-Tree," "The Juryman," and "An Indian Summer of a Forsyte." BY THE AUTHOR OF "UNOENSORED LETTERS FROM THE DARDANELLES." A ROMANCE OF THE WESTERN FRONT. A Novel. By Gabrielle Vassall. 6s. n. A powerful story of love and war, full of adventure and romance, describing the most thrilling experiences which the English heroine went through in order to meet her French soldier-lover behind and in the lines. • THE SEQUEL TO "THE DOP DOCTOR." THAT WHICH HATH WINGS. By Eichard Dehan. 7s. d. " Has all the excitement which the war, and love, and thrilling adventure by land and tea tan give it." — IV estmi aster Gazette. NOTE.— A cheap edition of " The Dop Doctor " is now on sale. Price Ss. 6d. n. WASTRALLS. By 0. A. Dawson Scott, author of " Treasure Trove," etc. 6s. n. " It is a powerful novel which sees life clearly and sanely."— Scotiman. FIRST THE BLADE. By Clemence Dane. 6s. n. '*"'' "For'here, believe me, is a little gem of a book. It's the kind of book, in short, that makes a jaded reviewer, freshened by the first twenty pages of it, promptly write his ' Ex libris' on the fly-leaf and settle down to enjoy himself immensely. Her penetnition is uncanny, disquieting. The best bit of work that'* come my way for many a long week. There must be a sequel, please Miss D&ne. "—Punch, THE WAR - WORKERS. By E. M. Delafield. 6s. n. - • " Amusement, tinsted with light malice, is what we get out of this, and with some thankfulness, for a little amusement is necessary in this pres<^nt state of affairs. The skill of the book lies in its satire comedy, a little cold, a little malicious, distinctly onioy a.ble."— Manchester Guardian. London: WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 20&21, Bedford St., W.C.2 * John Bale, Sous and Danielsson, Ltd., 83-91, Great Titchfield Street, London, W.l. Advertisements "YADIL 99 A N T \ OINTMENT. LIQUID. For use ia skin complaints. For use in all diseases of micro -organic origin. i INDIGATIONS:- I INTERNAL. :- 1 ACNE, COLITIS, CYCLITIS, 1 BOILS, BURNS, S DIPHTHERIA, 1 ECZEMA, ERYSIPELAS, FURUNCULOSIS. i HiCMORRHOIDS, E GASTRIC ULCERS, IMPETIGO, MEASLES, MUMPS, i LUPUS VULGARIS. ,P SCARLET FEVER, PRURITUS, TUBERCULOSIS, PSORIASIS. T TYPHOID, &c. SCABIES. EXTERN AL:- Simultaneous internal I Septic Wounds, Vene- Dosage will invariably real Sores, Vaginal hasten results. C Douching, Operation, &c 1 Sizes— 1 oz.. 8 oz., 16 oz. Sizes— 2, 6, 20 and 40 oz. ! J ELL Y. A preparation of " Yadil " in a most agreeable form, well suited for infants and children, has proved of extreme value in treatment of Diphtheria, Septic Throats, Pneumonia, Measles, Mumps, Typhoid, Intestinal Infection, Influenza, and is useful as a prophylactic. Some success has also been achieved from its use in Tuberculosis, especially in cases in which Bronchial trouble is associated. Sizes— 8 oz., i6 oz. The «orcl'*TADIL"tB re^sUred as a TRADE MARK. MANUFACTURERS. CLEMENT & JOHNSON, LONDON, W.C. 1. Telegrams : "CLEMALEXA, LOHDOH. Telephone: