THE LIFE OF THE BLINDED SOLDIER

Evening Star, Issue 16197, 19 August 1916, Page 8

THE LIFE OF THE BLINDED SOLDIER

HTS PROGRESS IN MS.4KNING- TO WORK ANiD TO PLAY. . [By Sir Axnnro Peai»on.] People whp visit St. Dunstan's, Regent's Park, London, N.W., where men who have lost their sight in the wax are being taught to be blind, are always particularly struck by two > things. One of these » the cheerful spirit pervades the place, the other the facility with which the newly-blinded men, among whom are several Oanadiana, Australians, and . New Zea landers, acquire proficiency in thfe occupations they learn. It is no exaggeration,to say that the only, dejected people at St. Dunstan'e are visitojo, many of whom arrive with woe-begone cors& tenances, evidently expecting to find a o®» lection of dejected and miserablo men calling for their tearful sympathy. Some vist. tois seem almost hurt to discover that there is no morbid dejection at St. Dunstan'e. The blind men there form as bright and cheery a community as any to bo found in the world. Kindly sympathisers are far too apt to view blindness only in the light of a very pitiful affliction. This idea is not permitted to permeate St. Dunstan's at all. The men who come there are at once made to realise that their loss of sight is merely a handicap which can be overcame to a surprising degree if it is faced with courage and resolution. Patient resignation has far too long been regarded by people who can see as the one essential attribute of those who cannot. To a point it Is good to be patiently resigned to blindness or whatever other blow tibe fates may deal, but in my opinion courage, fortitude, and determination to overcome the handicap which has been placed upon ono are qualities of far gTeater import to the sightless. And" eo, in place of dejected introspection, St.. Dunstan's is filled with a, fine spirit of pluck and resolution. The men there in very truth show courage of a higher order than that which the bravest of them'". displayed when engaged in the war which deprived them of the most precious sense of sight. I am dictating these words in a secluded corner of the beautiful grounds of St. Dunstan's. The men have just finished their work in ifche class rooms devoted to the teaching of Braille and typewriting,"in the workshops, and on tha poultry farm. I hear their merry laughter as they find their way •back to the house to meet friends and relatives who are to take them out for a brisk walk or a row on the lake in Re-g*nt's r Park. I"hear the sounds of piano, mandolin, guitar, and concertina, for this is the hour at which music lessons are in ' l different ports of the place. High above | the other sounds come the dear notes of a i. I clarion, playing ' The Sunshine of Your i j Smile' with a taste and accuracy which • | makes it difficult to realise that the blind . I boy who is blowing out the notes had never j attempted to play any musical instrument i until three weeks ago. I And I remember that on the back of thei chair on which I am sitting are written these words: . The kiss of the sun for pardon, The song 'of the birds for mirth, One is nearer God's heart in a garden 1 Thau anywhere else on earth. This same cheery, optimistic spirit is juste 3 ■ as evident in the work of St. Dunstan's «s

it is during play time. The workshops resound, not only with the sound of the saw

and plane of the joiner and the hammed! of the cobbler, but with whistling and' vocal

choruses. The work is all the better learned because it is learned in the cheeriest possible spiritJoiners Who are learning to make tea trays and picture frames, comer cupboards, and ornamental tables, to say nothing of solid useful articles like rabbit hutches and ammunition boxes, gain the mastery of unfamiliar tools in a manner which surprises themselves even more than those who see them at their work. The mat makers learn with amazing rapidity to fashion mats which will serve to polish the soles which the cobblers are putting on to well-worn boots and shoes. Basketry o-f all sorts, from delicate fancy baskets to solid hampers, grow under the deft fingers of tho weavers in a mannei which forms a constant source of wonder t« visitors who have been for years witnesses of the work of blind operatives. And .there is a secret which accounts for all this perfection and rapidity. It lies in the employment of the blind teacher. To the newlyblinded man all handicraft seems hopelessly out of reach. It is very well for one who can see to say to him that he must do this and that and the other; he does not believe that the exponent understands his difficulties. But when a blind man, who himself can do tho work which he is to learn, tells him what to do and how to do it, ho believes that man, for he realises that his methods of teaching are the result of his own experience.

And even more important than the blind teacher is the blind pupil teacher, for men who have become exp«rt at the various trades teach beginners to follow in . thorr footsteps. It is difficult to imaijine anything which would put better heart into a newlyblinded man making his first fumbling efforts to achieve some piece of work than to find that his teacher is one who himself was blinded only a few months ago. In the meadows outside the men who are learning to manage poiiltry farms and market gardens move about among the hen houses and garden plots with a freedom and ease whioh render visitors sceptical as to their blindness. This occupation, which to the uninitiated must seem an almost impossible one for 3 ■blind man to follow successfully, does not in reality present any difficulties which can--not bo overcome "by an intelligent a.nd -persevering pupil. It is an ideal form of employment for a blind man who wishes to live in the country, particularly when combined with a knowledge of joinery, basket making, or mat making with which to fill up spare time. In one c-f the class rooms the preliminary stages of massage are being followed by an ■attentive and intelligent class. Sets of bones are handled, and an exact knowledge of the position and function of each in the human body is mastered. As pupils become proficient in anatomy and physiology they are passed on to the massage school of the National Institute for the Blind, where there is every convenience and facility for the acquisition of this the best of all occupations for blind people. Telephone operating is also taught at the National Institute. It is another of the apparently mysterious accomplishments of the blind which in reality is surprisingly easy for them to acquire. ! Some of the blinded soldiers learned to

become proficient divers, and one who has ' passed through the training course is 'at present occupied in salving operation's on a ship which was torpedoed by a German submarine off the South Coast of England. All divers work in the dark, and, obviously, a, man whose whole life is spent thus is apt to prove more proficient than a man who finds that his work places him in unaccustomed surroundings. I have left myself little space in which to i write of the way in which men learn to 'read with thek finger tips, in which they • master the intricacies of the ordinary typewriter, and in which they gain a, knowledge of the system of shorthand note-taking m Braille—an accomplishment which seems really marvellous, even to me. These brief notes can only convey a very sketchy idea of the well and happily occupied lives of the men who are learning to bo blind. I hope that thoso who read them may feel a thrill of joy to think that the soldiers who so gallantly -faced tho enemy abroad are facing another enemy with just as high a gallantry, and are defeating the sombre spectre of blindness as thoroughly and effectually as their comrades who aro still in the field will defeat the German hordes. . . Contributions in aid of tho training, and particularly the after-care of blinded soldiers and sailors, should be sent to me, or to tho secretary, St. Dunstan's, Regent's Park, London, England.