B. SHELL-SHOCK: NATURE AND CAUSES. (continued 5)

At intervals over a period of about half an hour, helped by questions, he was able to get out the following with much emotion:

“Joe, don’t go—Give me my rifle, Joe—Ten killed. Poor old Taffy—Dreamed last night—Saw Harry Edmands with all his ribs broken—when we had the explosion—5000 bombs or two and a half tons of explosives blew up.—Joe—Clay said he would never live three weeks,—Glasses blown in.—Taffy killed by shell in stomach—S— L— All privates blown off him—Just after leaving workshop.”

Between the above statements, the patient might go off into short trance states, staring and pointing out of the tent.

Next day he was found in a condition of cheerful emotion, saying that he was ever so much better; an orderly had “saved him!” This orderly had taken him to the Y. M. C. A. recreation tent, played the piano to him, and made him play himself. His whole emotional state suddenly changed over. He now had a good memory for everything previous to his reaching France, and remembered simply that there had been an explosion. He remembered two names that he had mentioned, but he could remember nothing about their fate in France. He did not know where they were but he was not anxious about them.

Shell-shock: Hallucinations; alternations of personality.

Case 358. (Gaupp, March, 1915.)

A soldier, 29, a helper in a wholesale house, came to a hospital by hospital train, uninjured, directly from the field, having become completely deranged under shell fire. He arrived at the clinic January 11, 1915, in deep emotion, anxiously excited, and looking tensely and suspiciously at the bystanders. He seemed to hear very badly and shouted his statements like a deaf person. Led to the sick section, he shouted out of the window, “Frenchmen!”; then he went willingly to the bath and was put to bed, unresisting. He lay in bed on his elbow, listening in the direction of the window or the wall, answering loud questions with a quick, yelling voice after a pause. He gave his name correctly. He seemed to think he was in the trenches and to see hallucinatory pictures of battle.

In the examining room he immediately sat down, back to the wall, taking the chair at the desk and leaning it against the wall. Asked why he did so, he said with a horrified expression, “The shells, they are coming over! Whew! they are shooting all the time.” He ducked, imitating the hissing and whistling of the shells. Asked if he had been struck, he said, “There are two dead and one’s head is off.” He declined to be told where he was, and when he was told that he was no longer in the enemy’s country, but in Württemberg, he said, “No, no; they don’t come so far. No, the Frenchmen don’t come so far.” He was very easily frightened and started at every touch as if wakened from a dream. Sometimes his whole body would tremble with anxiety. He would not allow his pulse to be taken, at first. He would suddenly shout, “That’s the Krupp now flying by. Now it has struck.” He cast his eyes along the ceiling as if to follow the course of the shell. Asked what he was doing, he said he was in the trench on the mountain.

He was able to tell about his family, his marriage in Berlin, and his child, and he could tell time by the clock. Then he would suddenly shout: “The shells, they are shooting everything; they are shooting like another earthquake.” Gaupp stepped up to him, in uniform, and asked if the patient knew him. He examined Gaupp suspiciously from top to toe, looked at the shoulder-straps, and then quickly cried loudly, “Physician.”

At another time he described the shell havoc with evidence of extreme anxiety. He would take food only when one broke off a piece and ate of it before him. He would not drink out of ordinary drinking-glasses but only out of his field cup, examining it carefully. He denied he was on patrol duty at Soupis. His comrade was merely asleep just now. A civilian physician in his long coat was termed by the patient “a baker” after careful examination. There seemed to be no pause in the man’s behavior, which looked absolutely genuine and dominated by strong emotion. He had the look of a man in immediate danger of death, exerting himself to escape shell fire.

This dream-like disorder of consciousness with war delirium persisted for a number of days. There was no marked motor excitement. He would remain for the most part quietly in bed, absorbed in his thoughts, watching and listening, sometimes looking about in astonishment but not getting his bearings. Gradually his emotions declined and he developed a certain confidence in the nurse. She was able to convince him that he might be in a hospital, although he objected that there were no wounded there. (He was in a mental section where there were no bandaged men.) All the while he was very hard of hearing and shouted loudly in speech. For twelve days he could not be convinced that he was in Germany. The fact that the Sister was speaking German was met promptly by the fact that in France the physicians and Sisters spoke German too.

An extraordinary change came over him January 27 (sixteen days after admission). He went into the garden, apparently deaf and shouting his answers, accompanied by Sister Margarethe, whom he always called “Sister Anna” and whom he thought came from Lichterfelde. While walking with the Sister, his condition suddenly disappeared. He began to hear; he spoke in a normal tone, in fact, rather low, and began to address the Sister by her right name, Margarethe. He was astonished at the snow in the garden, and asked the Sister whether she noticed that the artillery had just stopped firing. Gradually getting his bearings, he wondered whether he had been in the hospital since the day before. He certainly was not ill, he thought.

This normal state lasted for a half hour. The patient then relapsed into anxious semi-consciousness, becoming deaf again and shouting his words. During the next few days and weeks he had frequent changes of state like the above described. The changes to a normal state would take place spontaneously in the absence of apparent occasion, but the relapses into semi-consciousness took place when there was some outer irritation, especially some noise. Every fright would cause a relapse. Once a small cannon fired at a great distance off caused such a relapse; again, a sudden shouting at the patient.

During the clear state there was a complete amnesia for the period of illness. He did not want to believe that he had been in the hospital for weeks, declaring that he must have been in the trenches two days before.

Gradually the semi-conscious states decreased in length; the deafness and loud speech returned with the semi-consciousness. With the return of orientation, the man looked entirely normal, speaking in a low voice somewhat shyly. He was rather suspicious and could find his way about with difficulty. His memory broke off with the last days of December, 1914, at which time he was in the trenches under intense shell fire. His wife had received no word from him since December 26. Even at the beginning of February he grew anxiously tense when the word shell was mentioned.

February 4, Gaupp presented him in clinic as entirely clear. He mentioned that his relapses to semi-consciousness occurred on the occasion of a loud noise or word spoken. His face was contorted at Gaupp’s remark but there was no other change in him. The next day, however, he told the Sister that Gaupp had shouted out once to “get him away.” He said he had then heard artillery fire for a moment, but pulled himself together though he had almost gone off, and had a violent headache afterward.

These states of alternating normality and semi-consciousness continued until about February 10. During a clear spell, the patient was quiet, reserved, taciturn, a little ill-tempered and seclusive, occasionally writing his wife a rather empty letter. In the semi-conscious state he was emotional and restless, seeking cover from the enemy. These states stopped altogether about the middle of February. He then became somewhat more open, though he had no idea of the gravity of his condition. He was angered by the window-bars, and offended by the opening of a letter to his wife, declaring that he would never write a word again, as it was just like a prison. These outbursts passed quickly by. He wanted to go home and believed he would soon be able to go to his comrades in the field.

At the time of the report, Gaupp felt that he could not be discharged for a number of weeks. He was pallid, gave the impression of being exhausted mentally, complained of restlessness and internal irritation. His memory gap covered at the end of March a period of about five weeks: from the end of December, 1914, to the beginning of February, 1915.

Frostbite; thrown into water by horse; horse shot under its rider who becomes: A HORSE IN THE UNCONSCIOUS.

Case 359. (Eder, March, 1916.)

A private in the Royal Engineers, 25, went through Gallipoli without injury and without fears. He was sent to the hospital in Malta, December 18. When observed by Eder, February 7, the frostbitten finger of the right hand was well although there was some loss of grip. He was suffering from insomnia, terrifying dreams, shaky hands. It seems that December 6, a horse started and he was thrown into the water from a bridge. The next day his horse was shot under him. A few days later, a finger was frostbitten. Then his hands began to tremble and the insomnia set in, with severe headaches.

This patient was a jovial, thickset, farmer’s son, with a diffuse enlargement of the thyroid gland, a high blood pressure, lymphocytosis, a fine tremor of the hands, irregular and rapid pulse, and anginal attacks. Extremities were cold and blue; the palms perspired markedly; there was hypersensitiveness to sound; there were occasional attacks of dizziness, with a feeling of suffocation; there was frequent desire to micturate.

The patient’s dream was always the same: He saw a Frenchman digging a knife into his horse, getting off a cart to do this somewhere in Serbia. Occasionally he had this dream in the form of a vision in the daytime. It seems that he had actually seen a French soldier plunge a knife into a mule to make it go. He had been busy with horses since childhood: as stableboy and groom. He thought that the sufferings of the mules in Gallipoli were worse than those of human beings. According to Eder, this farmer’s son was the horse of his dreams; instinctive fear had to emerge; he was pitying himself. According to Eder, “That the person should become a horse in the unconscious would not startle one who has dipped into the totems and taboos of the lower races.”

Shell-shock; gassing; fatigue: Anesthesias.

Case 360. (Myers, March, 1916.)

A stretcher-bearer, 44, eleven years in the service and two months on French service, was seen by Lt. Col. Myers eight days after reporting sick and admission to a base hospital.

While he was under cover in a cellar, three days before reporting sick, a shell had jammed the door and the fumes came in. Later in the day, in another cellar, he had been blown off his seat by a shell and six other men had been laid out. The shelling continued that day and two following days. He had worked on the wounded without any rest.

On lying down he found his left arm numb and cold. The numbness then spread to the legs, especially to the left leg. There was continual tingling in terminal joints of fingers of left hand; hypalgesia over both forearms and hands, especially on left side; total analgesia over left dorsum.

Two days later, the patient could feel articles and reported that the numbness occurred only in the early morning and was followed by a tingling as the numbness passed off. On the same day, the hands and forearms showed a total loss of sensibility to pain, except for a small area on the flexor surface below the elbow joint.

Re spread of anesthesia and alternation of sensory symptoms in this case. Babinski, of course, believes, that the majority of these conditions are the product of medical suggestion, but Babinski meets any critique by pointing out that any other sort of suggestion may produce such results. The heterosuggestion need not be medical. Thus, the sight of a comrade with paralysis or anesthesia, organic or hysterical, may suggest such to the soldier. Léri remarks that these may also be produced by autosuggestion alone. “From a tired feeling in a limb to a loss of power in it, there is but a small step. Another step leads to paralysis and anesthesia. The neuropathic temperament takes these small steps in perfectly good faith.” Léri has found no case in which he could exclude the influence of auto- or heterosuggestion.

Shell-shock; burial; somnambulistic state: Amnesia. Recovery of memory in hypnosis.

Case 361. (Myers, February, 1915.)

A healthy-looking man, with flushed face and large dark eyes with wide pupils, complained of pains in abdomen, back, and limbs, chiefly in knees and ankles, and of visual impairment. This corporal said that his sight had been very indistinct since he was buried, and that if he looked at an electric light, he could see nothing for five minutes afterwards. He was admitted to the Duchess of Westminster’s War Hospital at Touquet, December 11, 1914, having been buried for 48 hours, December 8, when a shell blew in the trench where he lay. He said he could remember nothing until he found himself in a dressing station, lying on straw, in a barn. He was at that time unable to see and fell over something when he tried to walk.

He had gone out August 13, and had been in the last two days at Mons and then at La Bassée. He had slept badly and had taken a good deal of whiskey. He had led a fast life and had had domestic worries recently.

It appeared that his vision had improved since the day of the explosion; though he could read for a short time only when things became blurred, and only with the type close to the eyes. Bowels had not opened for five days. Vision in right eye was 5/60; left eye, 2/60.

Tested for smell, he failed to smell peppermint, ether, iodin tincture, and carbolic acid 1-40. Sugar was tasted only after tongue movements were permitted, as was also a strong solution of salt. Acid tasted salty like alum. The patient complained that he did not sleep, though in point of fact he slept well.

The patient was treated by suggestion, both in hypnosis and without, when he was transferred on the 31st of December, to the London Temperance Hospital, whence he was discharged. The treatment by suggestion occurred daily. At the second trial and thereafter, light hypnosis was easily induced, but the deeper stages, with hallucinations, anesthesia, and post-hypnotic anesthesia, could not be reached. The lighter stages brought about sleep, a gradual restoration of memory, and later an improvement in visual and olfactory acuity; in near vision, in visual fields, and in color sensibility.

The stages in the restoration of memory are as follows: December 22, he was able to describe how he was buried, how Sergeant L. dug him out, how men of another regiment than his own took him to a dressing station, whence he was packed off by the M. O. to the dressing station of his own regiment. Capt. S. had spoken to him and given him a drink. Post-hypnotic suggestion caused him to remember this latter fact after he had come out from hypnosis.

December 23, even before hypnosis, he could remember a big hospital with a stove in the center of a big square room, and gave a fragmentary account of struggling in the trench after being buried, and of going to sleep and enjoying himself at home, when somebody started messing him about. In hypnosis, he gave further details of his dreams after falling asleep in the buried state.

December 26, further details were remembered before hypnosis, such as a ride in the motor ambulance, offers of tea, cocoa, sweets, and cigarettes, a bad headache, and the like.

December 27, in hypnosis, he was able to describe with apparent accuracy the position of the trenches and their appearance. He said:

“The explosion lifted us up and dropped us again. It seemed as if the ground underneath had been taken away. I was lying on my right side, resting on my right hand, when the shell came. I got my right hand loose but my wrist was fixed behind a piece of fallen timber. At last I dropped off to sleep and had funny dreams of things at home. One thing in particular I have thought of many times since, I have not been able to make out why I should dream of the young lady playing the piano. I don’t know her name and I don’t think I have seen her above twice.”

According to Myers, it is questionable how far the patient’s memory can be trusted; and there is considerable doubt whether the man had remained in the trench for more than an hour after the shell had burst. A comrade said that the doctors at the barn thought the man off his head. Another soldier, familiar with the positions of the regiments in question, gave information suggesting that the patient had wandered in a somnambulistic state from the trench, past his own dressing station to that of another regiment.

Re Shell-shock and burial cases, compare remarks of Grasset and of Foucault concerning the feeling as if dead on the part of certain buried persons. Somnambulism is a natural sequel to such feelings. For somnambulism, compare cases of Milian (364, 365, and 366).

Shell-shock; minor injuries: Somnambulistic “carrying on”; fatigueability, physical and mental.

Case 362. (Donath, July, 1915.)

A lieutenant of infantry, 31, threw himself down on the earth September 9, 1914, as a shell was passing over him. The shell exploded and seriously injured a soldier one meter away. The lieutenant got up and ran for cover about twenty meters distant. Only six and a half hours later did he perceive that there was a small skin lesion between his thumb and index finger, caused by a shell fragment, as well as a superficial burn on his right temple. Neither wound bled or had to be dressed. He carried on, aware that they were marching toward the River D.; but only two or three days later did he find they had already marched to the other side of K., had rested there and spent the night in various places in between. During this whole period the lieutenant led his battalion and held a piece of woods without anyone’s noticing anything striking about him. These dazed states were twice repeated, for periods of ten and twenty-four hours respectively, and finally he was brought behind the firing lines unconscious.

The physician found him to be in a state of exhaustion, pulse 108, and had him brought to the nearest station. There Donath found increased tendon reflexes, some dermatographia and increased fatigueability of mind and body. He was especially fatigued by walking, though he had always been a good mountain climber. He was now unable to concentrate on reading, writing or calculating, though he had been accustomed to dictate letters and calculations in his official work in peace times. He had seizures of crying and trembling on September 10 and October 27, both quieted by bromides. There was diminution of sexual power.

Rest, lukewarm baths, cold compresses to the head, and psychotherapy improved his status rapidly.

This patient had never been epileptic or hysterical, subject to dazed states of any sort, was weak, delicate and anemic (three sisters leukemic), but had before the war been well.

Emotion of captain who saw men burned by bomb: Stupor “as if dead”; awakening “as if a German prisoner.” Recovery.

Case 363. (Régis, May, 1915.)

A captain, one day seeing some of his men hit by incendiary bombs, felt the deepest kind of emotion. He threw his coat over one of his men and succeeded in smothering the fire. Of a sudden, he completely lost consciousness, only regaining contact with the outer world two days later, in the sanitary train. He did not know where he was, but thought himself a prisoner surrounded by Germans. The disorder of consciousness lasted three days, and the memory of what happened during those days never returned. In fact, the captain declared that he felt as if he had been dead during that time. His dreamlike state lasted for some time, and for several weeks he did not sleep without disturbing nightmares. It was always the same night attack, with the burned men and the anguish of feeling that his men were not about him and that he was alone in the skirmish. He later recovered entirely and made preparations to start for the front.

Re feelings “as if dead,” see remarks of Régis under Case 293.

Emotions over battle scenes: Spontaneous hypnosis or SOMNAMBULISM lasting twenty-four days.

Case 364. (Milian, January, 1915.)

Upon recovery from a state of apparent hypnosis described below, the victim wrote, in part, as follows:

“After marching two days we reached a Breton village near Virtou. Next day we were in a battle that lasted from seven in the morning to eight in the evening. I was somewhat troubled by the first balls and bullets that whistled by, but felt I had to get used to them and we marched on, under our brave captain’s orders. Then we really got under fire. It was sad to see my comrades falling under the murderous bullets, and the captain was soon mortally wounded; but we had reinforcements and went on and chased the enemy from his positions. During the battle I kept thinking of my old mother and father and I felt that I should die without seeing them again. Little things about the family came to my mind. I saw my father’s roof, and his favorite garden seat, and I saw my mother weeping over her only son, her only ambition in old age. The return from the battle was very sad for me. Night began to fall on the frightful field. I saw on the bare earth the bodies of poor comrades whose joys and sorrows I had shared. There they were, cut down in all the strength of youth, leaving their parents in trouble, their widows in despair, and their poor orphans. I wanted to carry them off and I could not. We had to march over their glorious remains. I was able to give a word of encouragement to one of my comrades who now probably is no more. We then retired. Although I was very weary, I was unable to get any rest. My mind was occupied with the frightful things I had seen. I thought of the comrades over there and that no one could help them. I remember I drank coffee the next morning and talked with my relative. Then that is all. From that time I do not know what happened.”

The writer was an infantryman, 20, who had been employed in civil life in the Crédit Lyonnais, and was brought August 24, 1914, to the Saint Nicolas Hospital in a state of hypnosis.

Once placed in the standing position he kept balancing back and forth, with head motionless, eyes fixed and directed to the left side. He did not speak in reply to a request for his name or facts about his life, but as soon as the battle was talked of he began an expressive pantomime, speaking in a very low voice a few words interrupted by sighs. “What were you doing in the fight?” He extended his arms, described a half circle with his hand, as if to show the extent of the field, thrust his hands forward with a finger outstretched, saying, “Zi, zi,” as if to indicate whistling bullets; plunged forward with hands in front of his chest, as if holding a gun in charge bayonet position, saying “Prussians, Prussians,” and threw himself down in a kneeling posture, saying, “Trenches, trenches.” “Do you remember the battle?” “Belgium, Belgium. Germans pushed back,” making a sign as if chasing them. “Captain dead. Two hundred men dead.” With a suitable gesture he sighed, and tears ran down his face.

August 28 the mutism was still almost complete, but he could say his name and lay stretched out on the bed.

September 4 the hypnosis was less, but the delirious state was more active. He got up in the night and tried to escape to help the wounded. In the daytime, if he saw a man lying down resting he went to him and unbuttoned his coat to see whether he was wounded. Upon seeing the physician he would cry, “Major! Wounded! wounded!” and then pull the physician by his coat. He could hardly be stopped from these maneuvers. He had to be fed like a child, but went alone to stool.

He began to be employed about the hospital a little September 14, in sweeping the room and in guarding another patient in complete somnambulism, over whom he watched as over a child, leading him by the hand and keeping him from bumping into objects.

September 16 he awoke suddenly. Some one had talked to him about his own village and his relatives. He was astonished to find himself in a hospital. He wrote out, on request, the above account of his recollections. The man was 177 cm. tall, well proportioned; showed a slight facial asymmetry and a few other facial features of a dystrophic nature, such as an adenoid appearance. There was no stigma of hysteria.

Putative loss of brother nearby in battle: Spontaneous hypnosis or somnambulism; mutism, except “Mamma, Mamma.” Sudden awakening after twenty-seven days.

Case 365. (Milian, January, 1915.)

A man, 22, was brought to the Saint Nicolas Hospital in a sort of coma August 24, 1914. He lay on the bed, eyes closed as if asleep, insensible to excitation, irresponsive. Flies crawled upon him with impunity. He did not wink. The arms raised fell back inert. The corneal reflex was absent on the left side, diminished on the right. The knee-jerks and the skin reflexes were normal.

Next day he had to be fed like a child and looked after. Lifted from bed, once on the ground he stood up with flexed legs, as if to crouch. It seemed as if he was about to fall, but he did not.

The next day he was in the same immobile state. Upon removal from bed he again made as if to fall, but got his balance. He kept his legs flexed, his head lowered in a fixed posture, with his eyes on the ground. He would walk quickly without falling, if taken by the hand, feet dragging, and even holding back with a certain amount of force. His walk suggested that of a somnambulist. He was left in a standing posture by his bed throughout the medical visit. After a few minutes he began to flex his legs progressively and slowly. The attendant cried out, “He is going to fall.” Instead of falling, he sat down upon the floor near the bed. He was in the same immobile, somnolent state September 1, eyes half open, hidden under long lashes. Flies walked over his eyes and lids, but he did not wink. He would rise only when pushed and walk only when pulled, but had begun to eat a little better. To all questions he replied, from between his teeth, “Mamma. Mamma.”

The next day there was a bit more spontaneity in his walking.

Lumbar puncture showed a slight hypertension. There were traces of albumin and very few lymphocytes.

September 6, he was able to eat soup alone, but kept the same immobile posture, with eyes fixed on the ground, eyelids not winking, in a posture suggesting Parkinson’s disease, but without rigidity. He still replied only, “Mamma. Mamma.”

September 19 the patient suddenly waked up completely. Douches and external irritations had not served to wake him up, but a soldier told him upon this day that his brother was not dead, as he believed, but was alive and he then began to speak, opened his eyes, and began to talk. He told how he had been by the side of his brother in battle. Germans had taken them in the flank and opened machine guns upon them. Two men had fallen by his side, and, catching at his garments, kept him from retiring when the order was given. He got loose, looked for his brother among the corpses, could not find him, thought him dead, and from that point forward had been without memory. He shortly became perfectly normal.

Shell-shock; slight trauma; windage felt; fall; loss of consciousness; wandering, conscious, over night; shrapnel burst: Spontaneous hypnosis or somnambulism, lasting four days. Return to the corps.

Case 366. (Milian, January, 1915.)

An infantryman, 20, boxer by profession, was brought with other wounded, in the night, to Saint Nicolas Hospital and was seen next morning, August 24, in bed, lying motionless on his back, eyes open, fixed, eyelids not winking. No reply was got to questions. The arm lifted fell back upon the bed, although slowly and not heavily as in apoplexy. There was no catalepsy. The patient was taken from his bed and put upright. In this position he remained immobile, hands at side, head bent forward, eyes fixed on the ground. The eyelids did not move upon approach of the finger or a lighted candle, unless there was a fine beginning of movement. If he was pushed, he made two or three steps forward, with eyes fixed on the ground and head bent forward. The only spontaneous movement was carrying the left hand back to the side as if to take the bayonet. He got into bed alone.

Next day the patient could walk better and began to talk, but preserved the same absorbed attitude. He told, in monotonous voice, of the shells that his squad had received and of the dead that he saw about him. August 27 he woke up and was unable to tell how he had come to the hospital. He told how the regiment had been bombarded for a time and how a shell burst near him; how he got a splinter in the buttock (of which the contusion was still visible); and how he had been thrown down by the windage of the shell. His sack had been torn from his shoulders. He had lost consciousness, he thought, for a short time, anyhow he could not find his regiment. He passed the night near Longuyon and next day looked for his regiment again. Shrapnel burst near him, and from that time forward he had lost memory. August 27, at his express request, he started back for his corps. There was no stigma of degeneration or hysteria.

Burial; struck in head by beam; overcome by gas: Tremors, convulsive movements, confusion, flight toward enemy.

Case 367. (Consiglio, 1916.)

An Italian private, 28, of meager build (infantile eclampsia; brother epileptic) was buried by a shell explosion and overcome by gas. After a month’s leave he went back to the trenches.

But now, whenever a shell burst, he fell into irresistible terror and made convulsive movements which he forgot afterwards. He could not sleep. The mere memory of the scene would throw him into terror. He was tremulous, developed asymmetrical innervation of his face, was generally hypesthetic and mentally blocked.

In the midst of convulsive tremors he fled towards the enemy. He was stopped and brought back, and remained for two days confused and hallucinated.

In the original accident he had been struck in the head by a beam.

Re this Italian’s flight toward the enemy, see various cases of fugue. Clinically and medico-legally, Roussy and Lhermitte remark that these confusional escapades are of great interest, and that many cases are encountered near the front line, put under trial by court-martial, and handed over to specialists. The dream is being lived through. Such a case as this of Consiglio recalls the hystero-emotional psychoses of Claude, Dide, and Lejonne. The relation of oniric delirium to mental confusion is still a matter of polemic. According to Régis, however, the common oniric delirium of toxic or infectious origin is nothing more than a sort of somnambulism. The retrograde amnesia which follows toxic delirium is the same in principle as that which follows hysterical delirium. Régis pointed out that suggestive hypnosis could bring back the memories in both types of disease, as well as from the toxic delirium as from the hysterical somnambulism. However, the differential diagnosis between onirism and hysteria is not easy. Alcoholism and actual brain trauma need to be excluded.

Shell-shock; windage; unconsciousness: Carried on with fugue tendencies. Variety of hysterical symptoms. Fit for garrison duty four months from explosion.

Case 368. (Binswanger, July, 1915.)

A non-commissioned officer, 22, entered service at 20, went into the artillery and had been advanced repeatedly. There was no heredity; the man had been a moderately good scholar. It appears that he had had at 17 a febrile angina with delirium.

September 25, 1914, a big shell load for a cannon was exploded by the enemy. All the men about the cannon were thrown to the ground by air pressure, and the officer became unconscious. On awaking, he had headache, dizziness, and vomiting. There were many corpses lying about him.

He resumed work at once, but in the evening his headache and dizziness increased and there was “a feeling inside as if he had to run away.” This feeling appeared to come from the heart; it was an oppressive feeling, running to the head. On the next day he did gun duty, noticing, however, that every shot he fired caused him a sharp pain. He was relieved from work at 11 A.M., and was declared ill by the physician. His comrades told him that he had often been noticed trying to run away, but about this he himself declared he knew nothing.

He was received at the Jena Hospital, October 9, 1914, a very strongly built and well-nourished man. Neurologically, he showed a marked dermatographia; knee-jerks were obtainable only on reinforcement; Achilles jerks somewhat more marked; there was a weakly positive Oppenheim reflex. The abdominal reflex on the left side was greater than that on the right; and this was also true of the cremaster reflex. Percussion of the head was extremely painful; and there were painful points on pressure of the spine and head.

Touch was poor on the entire left side of the body; but there was no diminution of sensibility to pain. There was a fine static tremor of the hands. The strength of both hands appeared to be decreased (dynamometer). Gait was unsteady and stiff; Romberg sign was positive; the patient fell over backward. Hearing was greatly diminished, ordinary speech being heard only close to the ear.

Toward evening of the second day after admission, there was a marked attack of dizziness while the patient was lying on his back in bed. During this attack the face was very red. It lasted two or three minutes. Hearing was remarkably improved on the left side for some time after the attack. The ear clinic examination, October 19, showed much disturbance of hearing on the right side (direct injury of the vestibular apparatus in both ears).

Headaches continued, radiating from the orbit to the top of the head, and sensitiveness to pressure at the exit point of the upper branch of the right trigeminal. The whole of the forehead was somewhat red and swollen (neuralgia of the frontalis). The patient wore dark goggles on account of his marked photophobia.

Improvement was gradual; there was a transient slight swelling and a venous hyperemia of the nasal mucosa, which was treated in the nose clinic. The impairment of hearing was quite gone in two months’ time, though buzzing was now and then heard in the right ear. The supersensitiveness in the right upper trigeminal region vanished also. The patient was discharged January 21, 1915, fit for garrison duty. Later he went into the field again.

Burial: Dissociation of personality.

Case 369. (Feiling, July, 1915.)

The following are some stories told by a “lost personality” under hypnosis.

The patient, aged 24, was a bandsman in the Second Battalion Wiltshire Regiment, who sometime near the end of October 1914, was buried in a trench near Ypres. This is his account:

“I was dug out at night and taken to a dressing station; it was cold and dark. Then I went on to a hospital at Ypres; it was really a convent, and there were a lot of nuns about, dressed in dark robes with white hats; some of them spoke English. I stopped there for a night and a day. There were a lot of wounded there. Then I was sent on by train; I lay down all the way on a seat in the carriage; we took the whole day to get to ——, and kept on stopping at stations. I was at —— about ten days; I don’t know what hospital it was, but there were English doctors and nurses. It was near the harbor. We came over to England in a hospital ship, the Arethusa; I went straight on to Manchester by train. The hospital there was really a school turned into a hospital.”

Here is a brief account of a scrap with some Uhlans.

Q. Did you see any Uhlans? Yes.

Q. What are they like? They’ve got no guts. One time 30 of them were against 8 of us infantry, and they “done a bunk.” Their horses were not bad. They wore helmets with a double eagle on the front.

He was asked to describe the country round the trenches and to give some account of the fighting there:

“It’s agricultural land, ploughed fields. There were two farms in front of us. One day we saw an old cow between our trenches and the Germans, and we all had pot shots at it. Once the Germans rushed our trenches; we killed hundreds, bayoneted them mostly, and hit them over the heads with the butts of our rifles. It was hellish. The British were all shouting. I saw a German officer behind with a sword and a revolver. I saw a lot of French soldiers, too; they wore long coats with the corners turned back; some had blue and some had red trousers. The French dragoons are like Life Guards, with big steel breastplates and brass helmets with a long plume; they carried swords and rifles and a few had lances.”

He was asked to mention some of his impressions in Belgium and what he thought of the manners and customs of the French and Belgians.

“We cut off all our buttons and gave them to the French girls. The French cigarettes are muck; you buy them in little blue packets; the tobacco is rather dark and strong. When we bivouacked on the march at night we were not allowed any lights, but you could smoke by digging a hole in the ground with your bayonet and smoking into that.”

The following are some of his remarks about his stay at Gibraltar.

“Gibraltar’s like a great big rock; the steep side looks toward Spain. I was in barracks there, and used to spend a lot of time in the band-room practicing. Sometimes we bathed in the sea. I went to Spain two or three times and saw some bull-fights; they were very exciting, but rather too cruel for my taste. They used to kill six or seven bulls a day. The horses got fearfully cut about.”

This bandsman showed what Feiling calls dissociation of personality. There was an amnesia of such degree that all conscious memories of the patient’s life, as well as all memory of letters, objects, and life in general, were suppressed. The patient was brought, after the burial above noted, to the hospital for epilepsy and paralysis at Maida Vale, January 21, 1915. After his experience, he had been transferred to the Second Western General Hospital, Manchester, where he spoke sensibly, understood and was able to remember things since the burial. His mind was a complete blank for all previous experience. He was unable to recognize his own father or relatives. He was slightly deaf for a time but this defect disappeared.

At Maida Vale he showed a nervous twitching of eyelids and facial muscles; otherwise he was neurologically and physically normal, dreamless, without complaints, and straightforward about all experiences since coming to himself in the hospital at Manchester. He took his parents on trust. “I don’t know if I ever went to school.” “A bayonet is like a knife; you see soldiers with them on their rifles. I have never seen a bullet.” His memory for recent events was also not good. He once recognized a single tune played at a concert.

Suspected of malingering, he was tried out in various ways. He was told that an elephant was a little furry animal and shown a little 6 inch toy sample. On going to the zoo he was greatly astonished at seeing a real elephant. He did not know what the war was about and he had no interest therein.

March 10 he was hypnotized and proved an easy subject. Powerful suggestions that lost memories would return were unavailing. The next day, during hypnosis, it was found that his previous experience could be readily tapped, and a history of his family, schooling, running away, and eventual enlistment was told. He had been at Gibraltar when war broke out. He was at the first battle at Ypres, and was for ten days in severe trench fighting, and was finally buried in the mud and débris of a trench blown in by a high explosive shell. He had been buried for about 12 hours, was dug out at night, and (according to his father) remained unconscious 24 hours, and deaf and dumb three days. He was transferred to another hospital and then to Manchester, where he came to himself.

Only during the first few sittings did the patient lie with eyes closed. Later, during hypnosis, he behaved exactly like a normal person. The fact came to light that when hypnotized the patient returned to the personality that possessed him just before awakening in Manchester, and accordingly during hypnosis, he had to become acquainted again with his hypnotizer. Maida Vale astonished him, as it should have been Manchester. Thus there were two personalities: No. 1: The personality since the date of the Manchester awakening; No. 2: The personality containing all the memories of the past life as well as the more recent Flanders memories. In State No. 1, the manner was jaunty and cocksure. In State No. 2, the man was more modest and less loud. Moreover, though in State No. 1 he spoke with a Lancashire accent, in State No. 2 his speech was in the West Country dialect—a strange observation, confirmed by several observers. He was asked to write down the answers to questions, and on awakening from hypnosis was shown the things written; whereupon he laughed and said, “Why, that’s not my writing.” On writing out the same sentences again, various minor points of difference were apparent. Hypnotized in the presence of his father, in whom in State No. 1 he took no great interest, he showed every sign of joy, causing his father to think that in State No. 2, his son had “come all right again.” In State No. 2 he could play a euphonium better than in State No. 1; but after practicing in State No. 1 he rapidly became as expert as in the hypnotic state.

If the patient were left for some time before being awaked by a previously-arranged method of counting three, he would experience disturbed dreams, with clenched hands, snarling lips, and muttered phrases, “Give it them,” etc.

Twenty-five hypnotic sittings were given but no improvement took place and the patient was discharged May 5. May 25 there had been no further change and he remained in State No. 1, in which state he was invalided from the service by a medical board, May 28.

Ear complications and hysteria.

Case 370. (Buscaino and Coppola, 1916.)

An infantryman, 22 (father and mother quite normal; patient showed slight convulsions, attributed to worms, from which he actually suffered; was malarial from 9 to 15; had otitis media and lost hearing completely at 11; had suffered from 9 onwards with joint pains; as an adult had no convulsions), was called to arms August, 1914, and sent to the front May 2, 1915. About the end of August, in a water-filled trench by Monte San Michele, he was covered with mud from a shell explosion, lost consciousness, and in some way got back to the second line. He was told that blood had flowed from the right ear, and on recovery he found himself unable to hear with that ear, although it was the left in which he had had otitis. There were continual noises in the ear. He was, however, sent back to the front line. By mistake, one day, he got with companions in the midst of the enemy’s barbed wire, saw sparks from the guns, heard no shots, saw comrades fall, and threw himself instinctively into the wire network. Leaving the food kettles, he finally got back to the trenches. He was sent to the hospital at Legnano for his ear pains, and was treated by leeches, which he could not feel. He began to hear a little more. Flies walked on the left cheek without being felt. This anesthesia had begun a few days after the shell explosion. He was transferred to a military hospital at Florence.

One day he wedged a toothpick in cotton into his left ear and was charged with simulation, though he had been absolutely deaf in his left ear since childhood. From the moment the military surgeon told him he would be denounced for simulation, he lost his memory. Reports indicate that he had headache and delirious dreams (October 30), and suddenly he became furious (October 31), about three hours later going into severe collapse, for which camphor injections were given.

November 1 he had battle dreams and lumbar puncture had to be given up as he was in the midst of an attack. A hypodermic injection was interpreted by the patient as a wound, and he cried as if he were being abandoned on the battle-field. At one point he woke up from his hallucination and asked where he was and shortly relapsed into stupor. November 2, the patient was slightly bewildered and felt pains where the lumbar puncture needle had been tried the previous day. November 5, he was disoriented, thinking himself still at Legnano. The pupils were throughout dilated. November 6, confused and dreamy; November 7, he soiled his bed, was somewhat disoriented, immediately corrected himself; oculo-cardiac reflex 64 full compression, 62 during compression. November 11, headache; November 12, a slight bewilderment reappeared; November 13, remembered for the first time having been stunned by shell explosion, and this day got up and wrote home. November 14, complained of pains in muscles and weariness. Pupils still dilated. November 16, pulse 86; a gradual increase from 50 to 60 during previous days. November 17, patient had begun to remember facts that preceded the dream syndrome. November 18, pulse standing 88; November 20, pulse standing 120. This day cried when he remembered having been suspected of simulation. November 22 and 23, aches in joints and intense otalgia; pulse 86. November 24, diarrhea; deafness somewhat diminished; 26, diarrhea; looked as if he were about to have a new hallucinatory episode. This, however, did not come about until December 1, when he heard cannonading and knew the regiment was near. Next day he had forgotten the cannonading. December 14, the patient had become entirely tranquil and lucid and was able to give his entire history. December 16 and 17 he was given a systematic neurological examination, which showed on the left side complete anesthesia, hyperesthesia to pressure, thermanesthesia, analgesia, loss of bone, tendon, and muscle sensation. Vision was diminished more on the right side than on the left, and the visual fields on this side were more contracted. During examination, the fields became still more tubular. There was complete deafness, anosmia, and ageusia on the left side. On the right side there was a slight diminution of hearing. The pharyngeal reflex was abolished; the cremasteric reflex was somewhat less on the left than the right; and the defensor reflexes of the left leg were less marked than those of the right. There was no clonus or Babinski. The dynamometer grasp on the right was 37; on the left 18; and on this side there was a limitation of voluntary movements.

Chart 10 ETIOLOGY OF SHELL-SHOCK

WOUNDS14 of 150

PHYSICAL

Exhaustion From Exposure, Hardship (all neuropaths)3 of 142

Concussion52 of 142

CHEMICAL—Shell Gas3 of 150

PSYCHIC

Gradual Exhaustion, Predisposing (43 neuropaths) 51 of 132

Same, Acting Per Se (patients chiefly neuropaths)

Sudden Shock

Horrible Sights51 of 142

Losses of Companions

Fright Near Explosion (one neuropath)

Sounds (a few neuropaths)

RELAPSES (41 of 150 observed, three-quarters neuropaths)

After Wiltshire