STRANGE GAMES

Waihi Daily Telegraph, Volume XXXI, Issue 8834, 19 October 1942, Page 4

STRANGE GAMES

MAKING AIRMEN FIT AGAIN “SOMEWHERE IN ENGLAND” NOT CODDLED BACK TO HEALTH Somewhere in England, in the quiet and peaceful countryside, away from the ceaseless turmoil and! noise of the war, is a convalescent hospital where wounded airmen are made fit and well again. The airmen at this hospital include many Canadian, New Zealand and English crews who were wounded during the Battle for Britain.

At this hospital the men are not nursed and coddled back to health. Instead, by a new system of constant activity, even in extreme cases, the patients soon recover.

Strange and wonderful games are being played these days in the very fringe of one of Britain’s most famous golf links (writes Flying-Officer K. A. MacGillivray, of the Royal Canadian Air Force, in 'the Toronto Star Weekly). Young lads in 'blue, many of them Canadians and New Zealanders, drag their splintered legs to the putting green. Nearby, others hobble happily about in a weird game of football, so gay and laughing that if it were not for their lopsided movements, you’d never think that their limbs were encased in plaster casts. Others ride bicycles, go hiking, play cricket or softball.

It is the most advanced and enlightened form of orthopaedic treatment for the rehabilitation of war casualties. For these lads are injured Empire flyers, and the “hospital”— lit looks more like an athletic club—is one of four rehabilitation centres Established by the R.A.F. And in them, in a sense, medical history is being made, and the benefits will be felt in peacetime just as much as in ■war.

No Wheel Chairs ? Into the category of outmoded thing's, in the rehabilitation stage for ’most types of spinal and limb injuries, have gone the wheel chair, the (weight-and-pulley devices, the traditional hospital atmosphere of vvhisipers and tip-toes, the sweet and •sickly smell of formaldehyde and ether, and the pervading air of soft sympathy, which is all too productive "of self-pity and listlessness, To-day the emphasis is on all possible activity and exercise consistent with the patient’s condition. This the formerly-inevitable stages of lock of confidence in limbs ■and balance and averts atrophy or ‘wastage of muscle and tissue. Take the case of Sergeant-Ob--'server Frank Heron, of Toronto, who spent three agonising days and nights a few months .ago floating on the sea .with a shattered ankle—the only survivor of the crew of a Blenheim bomber. Not so long ago medical .science would have had him, at this .stage of his recovery, perhaps trying his first few tottering steps with [Crutches, nervously testing, a leg j shrivelled and atrophied by many weeks in a east.

Instead, Heron’s leg has been kept umbered up even while in the cast. Although the affected bone and joints had, of course, to be immobilised, muscles and extremities were given full play. This technique of treatment results, when the cast or splint is removed, in the limb being comparatively strong and supple and readily restored to full usefulness. So Heron for some time has 'been taking part in strenuous activity, -both outdoor and in the “gym.” Quickly Active Again

Then there’s Sergeant - Observer George Ford, of Regina, whose left arm was badly broken when a Wellington crashed. During most of his three months on the injured list he has been active and with the removal of the cast his arm was found to be only a trifle stiff and his fingers as nimble as a pianist’s. Similarly a fracture-dislocation of the right shoulder hasn’t kept Sergeant lan Mackay, of Naranfata, from tossing the medicine ball. To see Sergeant James Wilson, of Orillia, working out in the gym you wouldn’t think he was recovering from a smashed knee; or when Sergeant-Air-Gunner Ed. F. Lyons, Toronto, picks up a foil and has a go with the fencing instructor, you can hardly believe that his strong right arm is newly out of its cast after a severe break.

Off on a bicycle jaunt goes Sergeant G. Douglas No ton, of Boissevain, Manitoba, although when he was first dragged from the wreckage of his aircraft his life was despaired of, with serious head injuries and a broken ankle. He was unconscious for five full days. But his control, confidence and balance on a bicycle are as normal as they will be in an aircraft when he returns to flying—-for these lads almost always are discharged from the centre fit for flying. Veteran Receiving Treatment

A veteran among the R.C.A.F. personnel receiving treatment is Flight-Sergeant-Wireless-Air Gunner David Kinsey, of Olympia, Washington. Forced to bail out after an attack on Brest last September—he has had 195 hours of operational training—Kinsey thought his parachute harness was slipping olf. Reaching up, he grabbed for support at the cords at one side of his ’chute, with the result that the air “spilled out” as the ’chute tilted.

Down came Kinsey in a violent landing on his feet, both of which suffered damage to the arches. He returned to duty, but the injury became apparent and painful later, and he, too, has joined the happy family at the “athletic hospital.” Another patient is Sergeant Robert Moulton, of Crockville, Ontario, whose right thigh wa's shattered in a motor accident. Although bone grafting has had to be resorted to, there is eve,ry likelihood of a complete recovery. And meanwhile,

Moulton manages to get around under his own power. Commanding officer of the centre is Squadron-Leader George Dawes, who commanded the R.A.F. in the last war. Chief medical officer is Flight-Lieutenant 11. Cantoi*, and the staff includes Flight-Lieutenant Neville Grant and Flight-Lieutenant James Gawthorne—all highly qualified orthopaedic surgeons.

Father of the centre and the three others like it in Britain is Reginald Watson-Jones, “Mr” rather than “Dr” in keeping with the strict British distinction between surgery and medicine.