“Indeed, and by the end of which I was a living skeleton. I could barely sit or care for myself and had no defence against any illness brought into the ward. A mere cold could have done for me.”
“Why did they not send you home earlier?”
“Terribly wasteful to take up space on a ship with a corpse. The watch words of the medics were ‘wait and see’”.
“Fools to a man!”
“Oi!”
“Present company excluded.”
Each day they would decide the fate of the men on the wards. Some would be fit to return to battle while some counted down their days towards either home or the grave. Eventually I was deemed fit enough to sail home. The troop ship Orontes would be my home for the next month.
As a very young child I had spent months at sea sailing to the other side of the world with my father and brother.
“Gold prospecting.”
“In Ballarat, yes, where the seams lasted a good long while despite the chaos that met us in 1854.”
“A good year.”
“Not in Ballarat.”
I had always been oddly keen to be at sea, yet not keen enough to take it up as a career. I suppose it occurred to be quite early on that a ship is a very confined place to try and hide from your gambling debts.
“You were three in 1854. I don’t imagine your gambling started that young.”
“I was eight when we returned, and by then it was rather ingrained.”
Being on a troop ship, relieved of my medical duties, I should have been rather free from care. This was not the case.
When people find out that you are a doctor they seem compelled to show you every lump, bump, sore and rash that the body can produce and the fact that I was still whip thin and reliant on my sticks to get me about the decks was neither here nor there. Not a day went past without one person or another asking me to look at this or that or asking such delightful questions as “should it be that colour?”.
“Could quite put a fellow off his supper.”
It was rather excellent training for life with you.”
“I have never...”
“I consider it only a matter of time.”
The only way to escape the constant barrage of ailments was to involve myself in the card games below deck. Men are more keen to take your money than show you their concerns and become less willing to ask the advice of you medically when you have cleaned them out financially. That learnt, I spent the remainder of my journey relatively unbothered.
Unbothered, that is, by others’ ailments. Alas the same could not be said of my own. My arm had grown very weak and required much work just to stop it from becoming completely crippled, so another fellow from Peshawar and I took to daily rounds of golf using our canes and rolled up balls of paper in an attempt to retrain our useless limbs to work. With my added leg wound I often fell over when we first started out, but was quite adept by the time we reached the Solent.
“Most creative of you.”
“I have my moments.”
My nerves, however, were another matter and a constant source of annoyance to my fellow passengers and shame to me. A grown man should not be troubled by nightmares like a babe in arms and each night I woke screaming I would be mortified by the thought of waking the others.
“You can’t have been alone in this.”
“Everyone is alone in their nightmares, old boy. It’s just the way of it.”
“Not the case now, Watson.”
“Well, my nerves are greatly improved. Heaven knows how considering the life I lead.”
“Not exactly what I meant.”
“I know, old boy.”
Put ashore at Portsmouth I headed for London. One does not stay in Portsmouth any longer than one has to and being on a train, made me feel, for the first time, that I was going home. This was not a sensation that lasted.
Once in London I found I had neither the tin nor the enthusiasm for the past time that had entertained me during my time at university.
“Indeed, and by the end of which I was a living skeleton. I could barely sit or care for myself and had no defence against any illness brought into the ward. A mere cold could have done for me.”
“Why did they not send you home earlier?”
“Terribly wasteful to take up space on a ship with a corpse. The watch words of the medics were ‘wait and see’”.
“Fools to a man!”
“Oi!”
“Present company excluded.”
Each day they would decide the fate of the men on the wards. Some would be fit to return to battle while some counted down their days towards either home or the grave. Eventually I was deemed fit enough to sail home. The troop ship Orontes would be my home for the next month.
As a very young child I had spent months at sea sailing to the other side of the world with my father and brother.
“Gold prospecting.”
“In Ballarat, yes, where the seams lasted a good long while despite the chaos that met us in 1854.”
“A good year.”
“Not in Ballarat.”
I had always been oddly keen to be at sea, yet not keen enough to take it up as a career. I suppose it occurred to be quite early on that a ship is a very confined place to try and hide from your gambling debts.
“You were three in 1854. I don’t imagine your gambling started that young.”
“I was eight when we returned, and by then it was rather ingrained.”
Being on a troop ship, relieved of my medical duties, I should have been rather free from care. This was not the case.
When people find out that you are a doctor they seem compelled to show you every lump, bump, sore and rash that the body can produce and the fact that I was still whip thin and reliant on my sticks to get me about the decks was neither here nor there. Not a day went past without one person or another asking me to look at this or that or asking such delightful questions as “should it be that colour?”.
“Could quite put a fellow off his supper.”
It was rather excellent training for life with you.”
“I have never...”
“I consider it only a matter of time.”
The only way to escape the constant barrage of ailments was to involve myself in the card games below deck. Men are more keen to take your money than show you their concerns and become less willing to ask the advice of you medically when you have cleaned them out financially. That learnt, I spent the remainder of my journey relatively unbothered.
Unbothered, that is, by others’ ailments. Alas the same could not be said of my own. My arm had grown very weak and required much work just to stop it from becoming completely crippled, so another fellow from Peshawar and I took to daily rounds of golf using our canes and rolled up balls of paper in an attempt to retrain our useless limbs to work. With my added leg wound I often fell over when we first started out, but was quite adept by the time we reached the Solent.
“Most creative of you.”
“I have my moments.”
My nerves, however, were another matter and a constant source of annoyance to my fellow passengers and shame to me. A grown man should not be troubled by nightmares like a babe in arms and each night I woke screaming I would be mortified by the thought of waking the others.
“You can’t have been alone in this.”
“Everyone is alone in their nightmares, old boy. It’s just the way of it.”
“Not the case now, Watson.”
“Well, my nerves are greatly improved. Heaven knows how considering the life I lead.”
“Not exactly what I meant.”
“I know, old boy.”
Put ashore at Portsmouth I headed for London. One does not stay in Portsmouth any longer than one has to and being on a train, made me feel, for the first time, that I was going home. This was not a sensation that lasted.
Once in London I found I had neither the tin nor the enthusiasm for the past time that had entertained me during my time at university.
“Or over three continents.”
“I will punch you.”
“You started it!”
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