Jack the Ripper – A Love Story ( Excerpt 132 )
When we arrived at Concentration Camp No.1, The Sergeant in charge of the Mail wagon, the one I had conversed with most during the journey, suggested that before I reported to the Camp Commandant I might like to meet the Doctor in residence who it appeared was something of a celebrity.
The Sergeant led me to one of the few brick buildings, the majority of the refugees / prisoners were living under canvas in an assortment of tents. I was led through what I assumed was the ward, to the Doctors office at the rear. The Sergeant knocked and entered, ‘I’ve bought your new colleague to meet you, so you can explain to him personally what a shithole he’s ended up in.’
The man behind the desk stood up and smiled, ‘Ignore the Sergeant, he loves it here really!’ I couldn’t place his accent, there was a trace of Scots but also the soft spoken tones of the Irish, I found it most perplexing.
‘Arthur Conan Doyle at your service, Doctor, may I say it is a great pleasure to have you here, it will be nice to have an ally in my struggles with authority, without putting too fine a point on it, The Commandant here is a callous swine who would like to see all of his inmates dead. We are his conscience, he despises me and he will you too for the same reason, we are devoted to saving lives.’
‘I’m delighted to meet you, Arthur, I’m Jack, and I volunteered to save lives, not play at politics, what is the real problem here?’
(C) Damian Grange 2019