Jack the Ripper – A Love Story ( Excerpt 191 )
A week later, we, that is myself and all of my medical staff were aboard a Royal Navy ship being transported across the channel to France. On arrival there we were met by a fleet of lorries and other vehicles to transport us inland, closer to where the fighting was taking place.
I admit to a twinge of disappointment when we arrived at our designated site. All of the facilities were there, but housed in tents and a cluster of hastily erected huts. To my physician’s mind this was hardly the place to keep our wounded, let alone cure them.
It was early September, but the weather was beginning to change, I was afraid that whether in the tents or huts. The wounded would not survive the winter.
I contacted my superiors and insisted that if they indeed wanted me to save lives, then I needed far better facilities than those on offer. I am not decrying the efforts of the Engineers who built our base, but the fact remains that the facilities are woefully inadequate to fulfil my requirements.
Two days later we received our first batch of wounded. And as I had expected some of the wounds were most severe, and attempting to recover from surgery in a freezing tent was far from an ideal situation.
At least in the huts we could provide a degree of warmth and comfort, but even this was far from ideal. To my mind we would suffer heavy losses.
(C) Damian Grange 2019