THE HORPORS OF WAR.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 226, 24 September 1898, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE HORPORS OF WAR.

SCENES FROM A FIELD HOSPITAL..

tales OF HEROISM AND SUFFERING.* Mr George Kennan, well known for his Siberian experiences, accompanied the Red Cross expedition to Santiago. During the fighting outside the city on July Ist and 2nd he remained with the field hospital, and assisted in attending to the wounded. The scenes he witnessed and describes, in the New York 'Outlook,' show the effects of war in all their revolting reality. The hospital was situated three miles east of Santiago, in a little valley. The field hospital corps was wretchedly under staffed. Instead of 50 doctors there were only 5 the firs, day and 10 the second. Through their hands all the wounded had to pass. On the first day there were only 20 attendants to take care of the wounded from ante to take care of the wounded from three whole divisions. It was impossible for the surgeons to take any rest. The five men who composed the original hospital staff worked incessantly for 21 hours. During Friday and Saturday the great bloody wave of human agony rolled back in ever increasing volume from the battle line. The surgeons stood by the operating tables hour after hour, wholly without sleep and almost without rest or food. During Friday and Friday night 300 operations were performed. Despite the utmost exertions hundreds of seriously and dangerously wounded men lay on the ground for hours, many of them half naked and nearly all without shelter from the blazing tropical sun in the daytime, or the damp, chilly dew at night; Mr Kennan himself saw a soldier from the 3rd Cavalry, who had been shot through the body, lie on the ground in front of the operating tent, exposed to sunshine in which he could hardly hold his hand. This was by no means a solitary case. The miserably understaffed hospital was the only one available. Nor was it properly equipped. Tlie road to the front was blocked with trains of mulea and waggons bringing food and ammunition for the living. The dead and dying Avere neglected. At the end of the second day's fight the state of the hospital was 'dreadful and heartrending. The resources and supplies outside of instruments, operating tables, and medicines were very limited. There Avas tent shelter for only about ICO men; there Avere no cots, hammocks, mattresses, rubber blankets, or pillows for sick and injured soldiers; the supply of %voollen army blankets was very short, and was very soon exhausted; and there was no clothing at all except two or three dozen shirts. In the form of hospital food for sick or wounded men there was nothing except a few jars of beef extract, malted milk, etc., bought in the United States by Major Wood, brought here in his own private baggage, and held in reserve for desperate cases. These five'men ancl 20 attendants, inadequately provided with hospital supplies, had to attend to the wounded or an army of 20,000 mon. The result waa appalling. "Mr Kennan thus describes the ghastly procession which straggled in from the fighting line: The Avounded soldiers who were brought to the hospital from a distance of three miles in a jolting ambulance, or army waggon, had in many cases lost their upper clothing at the bandaging stations just back of the battle line where the field surgeons had stripped them in order to examine or treat their Avounds. They arrived half naked, and without either rubber or woollen blankets; and as the very limited hospital supply of shirts and blankets had been exhausted, there was nothing to clothe or cover them with The tents set apart for wounded soldiers were already full to overflowing, and all that a litter squad could do with a mar. when they lifted him from the operating table Avas to carry him away and lay him doAvn, half naked as he Avas, on the water soaked ground under the stars. Weak and shaken from agony under the surgeon's knife and probe, there he haa to lie in the high Avet grass, with no one to look after him, no one to give him food and water if ho needed them.no blan ket over him, and no pillow under his head. The scenes round the hospital were fearful. Slightly wounded soldiers were left in charge of their more dangerously injured comrades. They hobbled about carrying hard bread and water to their completely disabled and gasping companions: Many of the wounded had had nothing to eat or drink in more than 24 hours and were in a state of extreme exhaustion Some who had been shot through the mouth and neck, were unable to swallow, and we had to push a rubber tube down through the bloody froth that filled their throats and pour water into their stomachs through that. Some lay on the ground with swollen bellies, suffering acutely from stricture of the urinary passage and distention of the bladder caused by a gunshot Avound; some Avere paralysed from the neck down and tho waist dqwn as the result of injury to the spine; some were delirious from thirst, fever, and exposure to the sun; and some were in a state of unconsciousness, coma, a.nd collapse, and made no reply or sign of life when I offered them water and bread. They were all placed on the ground in a long, closely packed row as they came in, a few pieces of shelter tenting were stretched over them to protect them a little from the sun, and there they lay for two, three, and sometimes four hours before the surgeons could eA'en examine their injuries. When night fell on Friday, July 1, the wounded were still pouring in from all directions: At sunset the fiA-e surgeons had operated upon and dressed the wounds of 151 men. As night advanced and the wounded came in more rapidly, no count or record of the operations was made or attempted. Late on Friday evening the operating force was increased to 10. More tables jvere set out in front of the tents, and the surgeons worked at them all night, partly by moonlight and partly by the dim light of flaring candles held in the hands of stewards and attends ants. Fortunately the weather was clear and still, and the moon nearly full. There were no lanterns apparently in the camp —at least I saw none in use outside the operating tent—and if the night had been dark, windy, or rainy, four fifths of the wounded would have had no help or surgical treatment whatever. All the operations outside of a single tent were performed by the dim light of an unsheltered and flaring candle, or at most

two. More than once even the candle, were extinguished for fear that they would draw the fire of the Spanish sharpshooters, who were posted in trees south of the camp.