My First Absence from the 3rd London

Winter 1915-1916

THE C.O. GIVES SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS TRIP ABROAD

In October I was ordered by the War Office to go as medical member on a mission to Sicily to choose sites for hospitals and convalescent homes in the South. The present war is on a scale never before dreamt of, and various alterations have been made in the original scheme for the care of the sick and wounded. In former wars men were kept in hospitals till fit for duty, but now camps are formed in which men are cared for and prepared by training between the acute phase of illness and the day of complete fitness for the trenches. Another reason for this is the shortage of the medical profession. There is not, in time of peace, a very large floating surplus of doctors, and the call for the thousands needed to deal with the Army in the field has thrown a strain on the resources of the profession. Therefore the bad cases must be grouped in some hospitals, and these must have proportionately a larger staff of doctors and nurses and a more complicated equipment. However, the official part of my work abroad has naturally no direct interest for the Hospital, but the incidents connected with the journey may be of interest.

The kindness of everyone I met convinced me of the real affection the Italian people possess for England and the English, and, whether dealing with the civil authorities or the Ministry for War, as represented by General Elia, we met with the same unvarying courtesy; and, once the official consent was given to our requests, every facility was placed in our way in the carrying out of our mission. At Syracuse we were shown the ruins of the old cities, and saw everything of interest for miles. When crossing the island to Palermo we passed in the train between two towns perched on hills so close to one another that voices will carry across, yet a day's journey is required to go from the one town to the other. The scarcity of the population in those great tracts, owing to malaria, is very striking. The people who work here during the day go away at night; and until the mosquito as a carrier of malaria was recognised, the officials of the railway stations in these districts left by the last train every evening for the larger towns. Now the houses are fitted with wire netting for doors and windows, and so it is safe to live there.

At Palermo we had a charming Italian officer, Captain Faraone, placed at our service by the General Commanding the Army Corps. He had travelled in most parts of the world, and his knowledge of English was perfect. On one occasion when driving with him to see the wonderful church at Monreale we gave rise to a good deal of excitement amongst the natives of the neighbourhood. They had never seen khaki before. As it happened, there is, next door to the church, a monastery now used as a prison. The consequence was that the people on the roadside were quite satisfied that we were prisoners. And no doubt they were equally sure that the war would soon be ending, as we looked so pleased to be captured. We heard, by the by, that the Austrians have learnt the brutal methods of the Germans. Their way of preventing the men bringing in prisoners is simple; if an Austrian brings in a prisoner, his food is given to the prisoner and he goes without. The church at Monreale is one of the most wonderful I have ever seen, and cannot be described in an article, so I leave it at that.

While at Palermo we saw the Bersaglieri and other drafts going by the night boat to Naples. Another officer of our mission and I had quite a reception from the men on board. The bandmaster on the quay sent his apologies for not having an English tune to play, but informed us that he would play the Marseillaise. On this being done, we had to stand in front of the band and take the applause. Amongst the men with whom we spoke were some who had left their families in America and come back to fight for Italy, and were proud of the opportunity. When on the way home Colonel Norris and I had to break the journey either at Naples or Rome for some hours, so decided to do so at Naples. Here we were met by a Staff Officer and a motor, detailed by the General in Command of the Army Corps at Naples at the request of the General at Palermo. This officer, Lieutenant Orlando, took us out to Pompeii, and, by the courtesy of the Director of the Ruins, we saw parts of the city actually in process of excavation. These are not shown to any of the ordinary visitors.

To anyone who has not been to Pompeii, but has heard how on the walls there is writing which is as distinct and fresh as it must have been nearly 2,000 years ago, it may be a puzzle to understand how the material covering that writing is got away without damage to the walls. The whole of the street up to the level of the tops of the houses is filled with small pieces of pumice very much like pebbles on the seashore, and as the centre of the street is cleared the parts near the wall fall away, leaving the wall and its paintings quite free. The pumice is very dry, and so has protected everything from damp. Looking over the portion not yet dealt with, it has the appearance of an ordinary field in cultivation, the earth being the usual red-brown of volcanic areas. Below this earth there is a darker stratum of harder scoria, and under that lies white pumice. After the first eruption many people returned to the city and got into the houses through the roofs, and in one house I saw the hole in the wall by which they had got into the adjoining one.

The care devoted to the restoration is wonderful. Though many of the usual workers have gone to the front, the old and young remain to carry on; and, as I watched their toil, the madness of the present era was a very real thought. Here were people trying to restore an ancient city, hunting for scraps of treasure in the rubbish, and restoring the paintings on the walls inside the houses so that future generations may see them - and a few hours further away by train in the same country the so-called civilised and cultured nations were trying to destroy Venice by dropping bombs on its churches and ancient buildings. The paintings and sculpture in the churches of Venice are beautiful, and are the property of all the world, and the destruction of the whole of Venice, including the small arsenal, could not affect the issue of the war for five minutes, so only insanity can explain the action of the dircting minds that decree the destruction of the beautiful in Venice.
But this is a digression.
In the recently-explored street is a wine shop, and when one of the water jars were opened it was found still to contain water; the dust had sealed it in for all those years. Most of the treasure has been found in the streets, as the people were overwhelmed while trying to escape with their possessions. The labourers who are employed in the restoration begin as small boys and end their lives in the task.

The time we had to spend was all too short, but I had to return to Rome and London. At Turin I saw a coach on the train filled with Austrian prisoners, and they certainly did not give me the impression that they were anything other than well-cared-for soldiers; there were no old men or young boys among them. The journey across the Channel was a demonstration in itself of the cool pluck of our sailors. We travelled most of the way without lights, and, owing to the shortage of vessels, the captain had to return with a fresh load the same night. The shipping off Folkestone was held up owing to mines being loose, and the lights of the ships were like candles instead of big ones.
London was very dark, when we got back, after the lights of Rome and Paris.