Passage of Time

In the streets of a wintry London, the people were scurrying about to return to a warm fireplace, the wind was cool, and one could feel the dampness in their bones.

An old man slowly scuffled in unrelenting pain his hands and feet crippled by age, his breath labored, he measured his progress by steps, nothing else mattered, not pleasure, not food, nor a pretty girl. His deepest thought were his work at the University of London the terrible aches that was his constant companion, slowly towards Hyde Park, He had stopped at the Speaker's Corner to listen a bit to the latest blathering of one who thought he had something to say. Alternate universes, was the subject today. The Corner at times filled up with the curious, the naysayers and hecklers.

The old man listened for a few moments, if only to forget the nagging pains that racked his body, he looked up at the sky, and decided it could only get worse. The rain began with a vengeance, his glasses had fogged over, he felt the water squish in his shoes, he pulled his Chesterfield close about him his homburg gave him little release from the unrelenting rain

He trudged on, he felt out of date, a dinosaur, his wife Katherine had died many years ago. He began to walk toward Marble Arch. Arthur had decided to drink the brandy, a Silver flask left by his great grandfather. He waited for the strong brandy to bite, and swallowed the remainder of his pain pills. Arthur entered the tunneled pathway to Marble Arch, he, in his depression, felt he had no family left, and that he was no longer of use to the university. It was time to go. Then he would feel pain no more, oblivion. Arthur began to reel and stumble, in doing so he fell face down the steps into a pool of water For the rain that had begun in earnest. A loose wire left unguarded by a careless workman lay forgotten in the darkened tunnel. When Arthur fell in the water his body twitched several times against the wet wire, then total darkness. Arthur began to visualize a long tunnel. It seemed to be an ancient passage way, the walls were covered with forgotten languages. There appeared to be stacks of ancient parchments, stone, clay and wooden tablets and scrolls, the writing seems to go back before most of the earliest civilizations. A face appeared, it looked incredibly ancient, a voice seemed to enter and speak to Arthur's psyche "It is not your time ye, for ye have another path to follow" Arthur turned to speak to the apparition, but it had disappeared.

Arthur's body seemed to become hollow, similar to a long, black tunnel within himself He tried to scream, but he had no voice. From the far depths of his being, a white, blinding ball of light slowly began to come into view. The light came far below his feet to the height of his upper chest, at the same time a grey hand, covered with caked and clotted blood, and reeking of death, and disease grabbed Arthur. He was yanked toward the apparition, several voices crying out at once.

"Doctor, we missed you," as Arthur looked about, his senses went into over time. The stench of decaying tissue, urine, feces, vomit, chemicals, garlic, Phenol, and black powder were evident. Patients were lying on floors, with uniforms fouled, caked with old bandages. The light was poor, carbide, and oil lamps provided illumination. A cold, bitter wind blew through the broken windows, and the sagging roof. Arthur looked at the chaos before him. A face was peering back on the reflected tin that enhanced the light, he saw a younger man in a spade beard wearing the uniform of the 42nd Infantry of Foot. A male nurse approached him and said,

"Sir Richard, Doctor Andrews sends his compliments, and requests an audience in bunker three as soon as possible," Arthur felt confused, but thanked the orderly as he exited. Over the bunker in Cyrillic letters, proclaimed Balaclava. Arthur recalled from his history a retreat by the Russian army, due to their frustrated attempt to pass through the Dardanelles and gain entrance to the Mediterranean and the warm water ports. The scuttling of their fleet was to their desperate need for the cannons, and their crews turned in to Marines. The allies of England, Ottoman, and French empires had banded together at Sevastopol in the Crimea a peninsula separating the sea of Azov and the Black Sea to force the Russians from the occupied areas and the Dardanelles at Constantinople.

Arthur looked about, and found the building that was used to treat the injured. It was partially damaged, with broken windows, part of the roof was open to the elements, the winter of '54/55 had arrived. The medical supply ship, Prince, was reported sunk. This was Balaclava. In Crimea, many men were down with Malaria, Cholera, scurvy, and fevers and influenza abounded, Sentries were found frozen at their stations, hoary frost and ice seemed to be everywhere. The gunners near their cannons coveted the heat from their cannons in constant barrage. Many had lost most of their hearing due to the incessant din. Exploding shells from an unseen position wreaked havoc among the crowded masses of troops amidst protective barriers of sandbags. The new methods of bombardment were from devices called mortars; a similar device had been used in the war of the American colonies.

Shards of red hot metal flew in every direction, falling from the skies like a poisonous rain that fell. The shards were called shrapnel, a bringing deep suffering and misfortune to civilian and soldier alike. Instantaneous injuries were the result. The injured were brought to the dressing areas often near the ammunition storage. Wounds were summarily dressed, the light wounded were treated, and sent back to the Line. Often, many were left to die because adequate help was non-existent. While other were brought to the rear areas for surgery, the usual benefit was, amputations, or death by disease, and infection.

Arthur recalled the summer months were fraught with pestilence, over 8000 fresh troops fell to the scourge of Cholera, many had died while others were bed ridden with severe diarrhea.There was such an outcry by the British press and public opinion, but due to the insistence of the Sanitary Commission and Florence Nightingale. White Hall reacted reluctantly and sent a group of nurses headed by Florence Nightingale to Turkey, upon arrival the committee was placed several miles behind the front lines to tend and care for the ill and dying.

A black woman, Mary Seacore, a Jamaican nurse who had cared for cholera patients and who was familiar with various methods of treatment. She applied to the military at Whitehall and offered to volunteer her services, she was refused, upon using her own resources and securing a loan she secured passage to Turkey and offered her services to Florence Nightingale, again she was refused. Mary Seacore, purchased a building that served as a boarding house and for the sick and maimed. She established a canteen near the battle zone to offered carbonated beverages, foodstuffs to the battle hungry troops. Mary Seacore was often found on the front line caring for the injured and at times friend and foe alike, monies she raised through her canteen, she purchased treatments and medicines for the injured, for many Mary was the true heroine of the Crimean War.

In other areas it was believed that securing narcotics, morphine, laudanum, Ether, Chloroform were a waste of monies, and coddled the soldier. While other armies have found its use was beneficial and was saving lives. In White Hall, London's seat of the military procurement, it was felt by many that chloroform and ether, was more of a hindrance than help. The over judicious use of Ether in explosive areas causes fire. It can accumulate fluid in the lungs that causes pneumonia, and often death. Chloroform caused paralysis of intercostals' muscles, thereby causing the patient to suffocate. The cases were true, but at most, exaggerated. It was the policy for the soldier to bear the pain, many physicians felt it aided one's circulation and the patient's ability to have a stronger heart beat, and encouraged vigorous breathing, thus a hardy patient.

Arthur sought Dr. Andrews. "Ah, there you are, Sir Richard! I had wished to speak of your ideas regarding our soldier's care, "Doctor, Andrews said Arthur, upon receiving a flash of insight. I seem to recall that phenol or creosote" can aid our soldiers a bit, I heard of a system of washing, and cleaning the wounds with a weak solution of carbolic acid or phenol It is a well known fact that sewers are cleaned out by a concentrate d carbolic acid, therefore lessening the putrid stench emanating from them. We might try a few select patients that may die in a week, or a few days, and observe the results." "It is certain they may die without further help. We shall try saturated pads over the worst of the wounds. The theory is worth an attempt," Sir Richard replied.

Women and Stone Soup

A pretty lass with eighty nurses was sent to Scutari in Turkey to care for the injured. We were rather dubious of women near these rough, rude, and partially nude men. I heard the women faint at such sights and cause excitation among the troops. Their leader, Miss Nightingale had become ill and was brought forward on a litter, and is now under care.

"Personally, Dr. Andrews felt that women get in the way, and they are a liability on the battlefield, however, if we want to, we could hire some common women for a shilling or so, to cook a decent meal, instead of hard tack, bully beef, and tea," "That might be an improvement," Quipped Arthur "Dr. Andrews, I have an idea that may benefit our staff and our patients. "Such as?" Consider, since, the French, Turks, and the Sardinians are allies, why not exchange our bully beef, admittedly, we have little to spare for a few sausages or what have you, or have our personnel remove food packets from the dead and combine the lot.

"Have you ever heard of Stone soup, Dr. Andrews?" "I can say that I have not he replied." Imagine a large drum, a small metal shipping container, a kettle with boiling water, or ice collected from the river, or ice and snow scraped from equipment, roofs, eaves, or any drifts found, with clean snow a few round stones tossed in, it is now at a top boil, next scrape off any debris that floats to the top. Get everyone to scrounge about, seek vegetables, desiccated, rotten, fresh or withered, fresh tips of Spruce trees if they can be found and tossed in the kettle, a few pieces of bully beef, hard crackers, perhaps a flank from a dead horse or mule, salt peter, and gun powder for flavor, Voila! A feast to behold! With it we can warm our bones, give broth to our injured, get heat from the fire, a hot cup of tea with a dash of brandy from the French." "Capital, Sir Richard. Capital, dear boy." All too often we have a solution to a in our midst, if we can set up a exchange once in a while, unofficial of course. In time we were assigned a few nurses to aid our injured with the blessings of White Hall. The women appeared distant yet effective. They have arrived with additional supplies, blankets, food, and drugs of which was under the auspices of the formed Sanitation Commission. The supplies were a godsend and beyond belief for those in desperate need. A far departure from wounded laying on the cold grounds, often days unfed, and wounds untended. The diseases of Cholera, dysentery, thirst, disease, malnutrition, gangrene, many are dying for the lack of attention, and exposure. To the elements of the cold, the scurvy, the reasons were beyond count. I think the world will long remember this hell, this Balaclava.

Balaclava was a deathtrap to many, when the troops landed in Turkey within a month over 8000 troops were ill and or dying of Cholera and Malaria. London became aware of the plight of the disease and the common soldier via the cry of the press and journalists who cited the ineptitude of the British Government to address the flight of the common soldiers.

Cholera had spread it's deadly swath from Asia and due to immigration, cholera was in its wake. In the years of 1869 to 1874. Simple Cholera and Typhoid fever, both caused dehydration due to copious diarrhea and vomit. the patient is doubled up with abdominal cramping, severe retching, known as the dry heaves, cholera later stages the body stiffens in spite of a warm or hot damp climate. Treatments had ranged from administering small opium pills or a mixture of diatomaceous earth or chalk that was ground to a powder and mixed with opium, and charcoal. Opium affects the motions of the abdominal track while coating the gastrointestinal system with a compound of Bismuth and Paregoric. This has a similar function. In other areas, starch was taken internally followed by ice chips when available.

The nurses began to prepare food for the invalids, and spoon fed them or rounded up volunteers to help. Large tubs were set up to launder and bathe the patients, in many cases rotting wounds were stuck to old bandages and scabs and festering, and found in many cases covered with maggots and sores. Often uniforms were burned to prevent Typhus soldiers and its twin Tetanus due to infected hay, feces and manure, infected grain, and uniforms. The nurses had worked several hours without ease, Doctor Andrews had addressed the nurses, "Ladies, we have a while to relax, wearing your Self out will not help the patients or you," reluctantly, they took a cup of tea, laced with ginger, a few sips later, they had fallen asleep with the cups still in their hands. "Sir Richard, it seems those ladies made a difference," the nurses had helped to fix the broken windows, they were covered with oil silk, and canvas to keep out the wind and draughts. The chamber pots were emptied, the floors swept with a lime solution, a few patients that were in pain now slept soundly.

When British Sanitary Commission and the nurses arrived at Balaclava, It was total chaos, over four to five hundred troops who were injured were found without adequate food, water or medical care for almost two weeks. Many of the high command felt it was best not to coddle the injured and leave them to the graces of disease, it was believed to be the soldier's lot. Cholera, pneumonia, pain, shock, blood loss and, septicemia. Contaminated dressings, bloodied shoes, clothing, remains of slop pails, amputated parts, due to gangrene were tossed in a common pit. In the center of the hospital, an old cistern no longer in use had been used as a sewer for the slops. The area had small ventilation which added to the Miasma and discomfort of all. The nurses immediately set, cleaning, and getting troops to empty the pits and slop pails a distance from the patients. The debris was often, burned or buried. The dressing and feeding stations were scoured and kept neat after a fashion, while nearby, the ammunition dump was shelled, the hospital not one hundred meters from it was also affected, the after blast showered dirt, flying wood splinters in all directions. Arthur looked about and could feel the room swaying, The roof began collapsing by the nurses, he yelled, "Clear out now! The blasted roof is going!" Two of the nurses left the area, but one nurse was using her body to cover a patient. Arthur ran, and pushed them to safety. The shove by Arthur pushed them against an old retaining wall which gave under their weight. The trio fell into an old pit, or ramp. The roof caved in around them. Rotted timbers, broken pottery, and cooking utensils, and soil fell about them. Arthur's body had covered the nurse and patient. Arthur began to examine his surroundings, there were large stones from a previous collapse. Arthur began to remove the stones that kept the trio pinned in their confined space, voices came from above. "Hell! Are all of you okay"? Arthur grunted assent, the nurse and patient were moving about. Arthur tried to get leverage, he spotted the remains of a platform, and wooden door behind the stones. Two enlisted men slid into the pit and helped to remove the larger stones to free an exit for the partially trapped trio.