A Regimental Surgeon Read online

  The Belgians were clever, many of them knew German and filled minor posts in the camp. They were also very good to our men. The Belgian soldiers were very clever in essaying attempts at escape. For this they were rewarded with a special uniform, a dark coat with one light blue sleeve and one red sleeve, a cap half blue, half red. This garb made them always conspicuous.

  German authority always discriminated against our men in every way; in the matter of food, in the question of clothing, in the method and manner of punishment. A very few, French and Belgians only, could get underclothing from the Germans during the winter of 1914-1915.

  In Sennelager was confined with us an Army Chaplain, who remained behind at Butry with the doctor and the wounded. He had given up his horse, in the Retreat, to a dismounted officer, and stayed where he could be of most service. Much he endured during his ministrations among our soldiers, both there and in the railway trucks with wounded men on their way to Germany. In Sennelager he was allowed a certain degree of liberty; he might visit the various camps and, with an escort, be allowed out of the main prisoners' laager to go to the neighbouring town. He was invaluable to all, for he bought condensed milk, eggs and oatmeal for the bad cases. Our men in hospital owed very much indeed to him for the recovery they made. To fall seriously ill in such a place was almost surely to die unless nourishing food could be supplied. There was no special hospital food to be obtained from the Germans.

  The sanitary conditions of the camp were appalling. There was no attempt made to enforce sanitary discipline among prisoners; the laws of hygiene were deliberately disregarded. The sewage of the camp was taken away in leaky iron tubs, and deposited within a hundred yards of the stream above the camp. Now this sewage contained infectious material of typhoid, bacillary dysentery, tropical dysentery, and many other diseases. It percolated into the water of the stream which was the sole supply of water for washing clothes, persons, or the food bowls. The men themselves suffered from skin diseases due to the irritation of lice and itch; we had sulphur ointment for the latter diseases, and men could be occasionally marched down to a bath, but this was of little avail when there were no facilities for killing lice and other vermin in clothing or in the palliasses. We medical men protested again and again, without effect. At one time one of our medical officers drew up an excellent working scheme to destroy lice, and for a moment it was provisionally adopted, only to be discarded later on. Nothing was done to replace this method of clearing the camp of vermin, nor was any other arrangement instituted.

  The camp was swept by almost every infectious disease; scarlet fever, pneumonia, typhoid, dysentery of both kinds, cerebro-spinal-meningitis, mumps, and measles. The vast majority of these diseases were due to neglect of sanitary and hygienic precautions. There were also a number of cases of beriberi; afterwards I learnt that nearly every prisoners' camp in Germany suffered from this disease. But the outbreak of this disease was almost entirely due to accident; it was due to the rice that formed a good part of the diet, but chiefly to the conditions under which the food was prepared. All food was cooked by superheated steam, in huge boilers; this method destroyed the essential vital substances in the vegetables and beri-beri resulted.

  The German medical staff of the hospital consisted of Eberkind, the head doctor, an incapable and ignorant administrator; the surgeon, an alcoholic Pole, either indifferent to, or unfamiliar with the principles of surgery. The physician was a Jew with no force of character and fearful of contracting infectious diseases, who was yet careful in the diagnosis and treatment of our sick men. As far as he was able, he tried to help, but being devoid of moral courage, his efforts did not carry him very far. The assistant physician was a Belgian, the son of the Belgian Consul in a neighbouring town. Born and bred and educated in Germany he was in every respect and sentiment a German, yet he came under suspicion, and was alternately employed as a doctor or interned in a Belgian civilian camp. Nevertheless he was keen and able in his work, and could be trusted to deal reasonably with our sick. It was to these two men, the Jew and the Belgian, that we trusted the care of the English on our departure, and we felt sure that they would give them all the attention in their power. In addition to these there were four German medical students, truculent, and not well grounded in their work. Their chief function was to overlook the work of the prisoners' medical officers, Russian, French and British, and to obstruct, as far as possible, our treatment. Daily we went down to the hospital to see the English morning sick, two of us to see the surgical, two to see the medical cases. All our work was of the most elementary character, we were not allowed to do any surgical operations or to undertake any responsible duty. We were only allowed to give certain harmless stock medicines; we were not allowed to admit into hospital or to vary the diet of patients. All this was done by our official superiors, the German doctors and medical students.

  One morning, at sick parade, we noticed a very great increase among the sick, and all were from the Irish regiments. We were furious at what we thought was an attempt to evade fatigues on so large a scale. We were always ready, as medical officers, to assist men who were really unfit to escape fatigue. Then an N.C.O. came up to us and said that the men wanted to ask our advice. Late last evening, it appeared, an order had come out that all Irish Roman Catholics should parade in a big empty hut in the camp. There they were addressed by an Irish-American; he declared that the great heart of noble Germany bled for the men who were forced to fight for brutal England. The High German Government had, therefore, decreed that all Irish Roman Catholic soldiers were to be removed to a camp at Limburg; there they would be better fed and better clothed, and have cigarettes, and in that paradise there would be no fatigues. But the men reported this to the N.C.O.'s and came to see us about it. We, of course, told them that they had to go, it was an order, and there was no choice. But we warned them against any attempt to suborn their allegiance, and we advised the N.C.O.'s to declare their Irish blood and Roman Catholicism in order to accompany their men. Now very many N.C.O.'s in Irish regiments are not Irish, nor are they Roman Catholics; but many of them made the declaration and were included. On my way back to England from Germany I met my old Sergeant, a native of Ireland, Irishman and a Protestant, and his history of their subsequent treatment at Limburg was interesting.

  They really did get good food and clothes and boots, neither were there any fatigues; and though they were sounded by Irish-Americans, there were not more than 30 out of 2,500 who joined the enemy, and these could be told by the obvious favour shown them.

  Then the story of the Munster Fusiliers was told to me by one of their N.C.O.'s. How at the end of the day at Le Cateau they were left behind to cover the retreat of their brigade. At night the wounded and unwounded prisoners were removed to a French château and well treated; their officers were taken from them. In the morning a General officer addressed them, in English; they knew him for a General by his uniform and his staff. He began his speech: "England hates Germany, England hates the Irish, therefore Germany loves the Irish." He had decided, he explained, to keep the Irish at that château, and to treat them well. And they were well looked after, fed on loot from French houses, cognac and red wine. On the tenth day the General returned; he announced the fall of Paris and the capture of the English Expeditionary Force, and repeating the usual formula, that the great heart of noble Germany bled for the sufferings of Ireland under the brutal heel of England, assured them of his benevolent intentions. The German army, it was explained, would be honoured to be brigaded with such men; for did not the whole world ring with stories of the bravery of Irish soldiers? He would not ask them to fight against the English reinforcements; for they might then be fighting against their brothers, forced to enlist in England's army. But if they would join the legions of victorious Hindenburg, he would be delighted. The Munster Fusiliers merely said: "Send us to join the English prisoners." Then the General turned and cursed them for ungrateful brutes. And so I found this Irish regiment at Sennelager when I arrived. />
  The Germans tried the same methods with the Mohammedans at Sennelager; all but a few who, frightened, denied that they were followers of Islam were sent away: first to a camp near Berlin, then in accordance with the German promise, to Turkey. These men were all French Colonial soldiers, and from all that they said it was certain that they would not fight against France, no matter how great the force or the temptation. No German women were ever allowed to come near the officers' or men's camps, save only on Sunday afternoons, when they came to see the wild-beast show from the other side of the wire. But the medical officers in some camps went to meals at a canteen in which German women were serving. Occasionally these young women would be inclined to be friendly, not exhibiting the spite which in earlier days they showed towards us. In one camp, we may call it Charlemagneburg, four medical officers used to go to meals at a canteen frequented by German soldiers. The young lady there took a violent fancy to one of the English prisoners. She had lost her "Schatz" in the war and was ready to replace him, even by one of the hated English! Now this English doctor was round and plump and of a cheerful brightness, so that he filled the gentle Fraulein's requirements in the matter of figure. She hated, she always said, the lean Englishman. He used to talk German to her; she would come to the garden of the hospital in the evening to continue the conversation. One day she asked him, would he like to escape? She would bring him civilian clothes the next night and they would go off together to her father's farm that lay close to the Dutch frontier. Once there, she knew the smugglers' paths across the border, she was more than familiar with the contra-bander's trade. What was the good of living so near the frontier, if they did not make use of it? She would take him to Holland and go with him to England. Now, the fellow longed to get away from Germany. For months he had given up hope, and now, here at hand, was the chance of a lifetime. But what a penalty the girl would have to pay! Never again could she come back to Germany. He had his own matrimonial arrangements planned long ago. He could not marry her, and being a very white and perfect knight, he could make no other proposal. So he reluctantly refused. But she would not believe and piqued at his refusal, said that he was afraid. That was not his case by any manner of means, for he got away in uniform, alone the next night, only to be captured on a bridge that crossed the river. When I got to know this man, I learnt how much escape from prison meant to him, and I wondered whether there was any German who would hesitate for one moment to secure his own release, no matter what the cost might be to an English girl who might be prepared to help him.

  There were a very large number of surgical cases, the most urgent, perhaps, the large class of nerve injuries with consequent paralysis of muscles. We could not persuade the surgeon to treat them properly or to allow us to undertake the necessary massage or electrical treatment, or even to send them to the big hospital in Paderborn, where they might have received surgical attention. The camp hospital consisted of six rooms, the cubic capacity of each being sufficient for fifteen or twenty patients; into every one of these rooms were crowded at least seventy men suffering from every variety of infectious disease. There was one ward set aside for scarlet fever cases, but no attempt was made to secure proper isolation. Each room was in charge of Red Cross orderlies of various nationalities under the command of an unteroffizier. In these wards the sick and wounded lay on straw palliasses placed on iron beds, double-decked, one above the other. The most unsuitable cases were grouped together. Acute pneumonia cases and cases of pulmonary tuberculosis lay, side by side, and coughed in each other's faces. It was only to be expected that the resolving cases of pneumonia developed tuberculosis of the lungs, and the tuberculosis cases pneumonia. Both these diseases in a very bad form were very common.

  In the hospital there were no sanitary conveniences, no nursing utensils of any kind; men who were actually ill had to go 50 yards in the coldest weather to the latrines. There was only one clinical thermometer in the whole camp; this was passed indiscriminately from mouth to mouth without any attempt at disinfection. One large bucket in the corner of each room was the only sanitary article. Our men had to bring their lousy blankets with them from the camps and place them on still more verminous palliasses in the hospital; they slept and were nursed in their clothes. There was no hospital linen whatever, not one sheet or shirt or bed-gown or pillow. A man would come into hospital gravely ill with pneumonia, for instance, and pass the whole weeks of his disease in the same shirt, tunic and trousers, with which he had come out to France four months before.

  Times without number we would go to see the Chef-Arzt, the head doctor, and politely draw his attention to the high rate of mortality among our men, to the incidence of epidemic diseases. But for our pains we were met with the vulgar order, "Shut your jaws." "Get out."

  Feeling that we medical officers could not allow our representations to be so completely disregarded, we resolved on a protest to higher authority. We were, after all, placed in a position of responsibility under the provisions of the Geneva Convention; no matter how indifferently the Germans treated that international agreement, we were still bound by it. We were not, and would not, in any circumstances whatever, be considered to be prisoners of war. Medical officers are exempt from that! even though they may have to submit to the same treatment that is meted out to other prisoners. What would we have to say to the relatives of our men when we got home and the question was asked, "And what were you doing all this time to acquiesce in these barbarities?"

  Now, concerted action spells mutiny under German martial law, and though not, technically, prisoners of war we were still amenable to its provisions. I therefore drew up a comprehensive report on the deplorable death rate among the British prisoners, and brought forward evidence to show that it was directly due to the disregard of sanitary conditions, the lack of hospital equipment, the feeding of the sick and the appallingly verminous condition of our men. The report predicted outbreaks of typhus fever and cerebro-spinal-meningitis, arising from lice and the lack of hygienic observances. Finally the letter asked for an inspector to be sent from Miinster, the official headquarters of the Prisoners of War Department, to enquire into the truth of all these charges. I then put it forward, in the proper form, to the Chef-Arzt for transmission.

  It should be remembered that, as far as medical and surgical knowledge was concerned, one of us held the Diploma of Public Health of London and was conversant with the whole realm of modern sanitation and hygiene. This officer was also an authority on tropical diseases, such as malaria, dysentery, and beri-beri. Of knowledge of these special diseases the German doctors, never having been abroad or having the opportunity of becoming acquainted with their conditions, were absolutely ignorant. The rest of us were better qualified to give opinions in other medical and surgical matters than the official German doctors.

  The report was presented; an outburst of fury and invective followed. Very politely I requested that it should be forwarded. Threats of court martial and condign [appropriate to the crime] punishment. After the lapse of a few days it was clear that my request had not been granted. I made another formal demand, and they, knowing that I might use the civil post office, if they continued to refuse the request that I was entitled by my office to make, finally forwarded it, after a most insulting message had been conveyed to me by one of our orderlies who spoke German fluently. Two weeks later came the answer; but not as I expected. A telegram came from Berlin. I was to be sent to prison in the men's camp. No inquiry; no trial deemed necessary; for I had been guilty of the impertinence of criticising German medical methods. Then, of course, once German High Headquarters had pronounced its verdict, the varnish was off the Hun and we saw him at his worst. Previously in a rather anomalous position, a prisoner in fact, yet not technically a prisoner, I had enjoyed in hospital the very slight measure of respect that is given by German hospital orderlies to prisoners even when they are acting as medical officers. Kindermann, the lazarette inspector, an unteroffizier, had apparently been waiting for this chance. He y
elled and bellowed and swore at me; using all the filthy language he had picked up in the gutters of Dusseldorf where he had been the leader of the municipal band before the war. All the orderlies, the passing soldiers, the German recruits (the patients even leapt from their beds), collected to see so interesting a spectacle. The German soldiers applauded; the prisoners were half-frightened and wholly indignant. Furious, I told him what I thought of him, and threatened to report him to the General. Hauled off by sentries with fixed bayonets I was put with French and Belgian soldiers in a hut. Here for three weeks, incredibly lousy, I lived on the men's food and water, and I suffered many things at the hands of the German soldier who was in charge of the hut. Every conceivable insult, indignity, and humiliation were my share. But the experience was quite worth while. I had never got so close to our men as I did on that occasion. Casual, in the matter of saluting before, only to be expected in the state of want and degradation to which they had been brought by prison life, they were now immaculate in every outward and visible attitude of respect they offered me. Little presents would be laid on my blanket while I was out, bits of cheese, a sardine wrapped in paper, or half a herring. I would cheerfully have done three months for such evidences of kindly feeling. The Germans were furious at their failure to humiliate me in the eyes of our men. The sentry, hot with anger, threatened any who approached me. The French and Belgians were incredibly kind. I made friendships among those men that I shall always cherish. A boy in the K.O.S.B. who had been in Major Chandos Leigh's Company at Mons, crept under the wire at night to steal for me, at great personal risk, some planks from a building near by. A low bed was made and my blanket raised a little above the louse runs on the floor. My servant would crawl in at night, and to the hut he brought my first parcel from home. We had a tremendous supper that night.