Part 27

Normal subject, wounded and thrown to ground by shell explosion: Recurring MEMORIES of battle scene; persistently HYPERESTHETIC healed shell WOUND, with pupil and pulse changes on pressure of the scar.

=Case 221.= (BENNATI, October, 1916.)

A lieutenant of artillery, student (one of his brothers dead of meningitis), suffered somewhat from diarrhœa on the battlefield. He was, however, always able to obtain the best of food. External conditions did not seriously interfere with sleep. In particular there was no excessive dampness where he was. He was preoccupied with having to act as substitute for the commandant of the battery. He was not afflicted by the thought of his parents far away; their financial affairs were entirely satisfactory.

This almost normal man was wounded after a day of incessant fighting five months after going to the front. When firing ceased, he withdrew with his soldiers to a trench. Here he was followed by an enemy gas shell which killed some and wounded others. While outside the trench shifting mutilated soldiers to the rear, he was hit by another shell of which a chip wounded him in the left thigh. He felt a terrible spanking blow that threw him to the ground and gave him great pain. He was carried on a stretcher to the medical post across the zone of fire; thence to a field hospital and from there to a hospital further from the front. He had been for almost seven hours in a sector of the fighting line which had been almost continuously active.

The wound healed in less than a week. But what he had seen and felt kept tormenting his mind. There remained slight numbness in the wound where there was to be seen a spot of pigment, the size of a two-cent coin, with somewhat obscure outlines. The pain was irritated by damp weather, in certain positions, and by touch, and the pain on pressure was reflected in the pupils and in the pulse.

No other disturbance, organic or functional, was found.

Wounds; operation: Hysterical FACIAL SPASM.

=Case 222.= (BATTEN, January, 1917.)

A 23-year old soldier was admitted to the National Hospital for the Paralyzed and Epileptic, June 18, 1915, in the following state: He sat in bed, gasping, with the left side of the face set in a strong tonic spasm and jaws tightly set. The contraction of the masseters was such that his mouth could not be forcibly opened. He himself could separate his teeth for about a half a centimeter, but the jaws came together when a spatula was brought for insertion and then failed to relax. The facial spasm increased as the jaw was clenched more tightly. The patient said he was unable to breathe excepting when sitting upright, and when put into dorsal decubitus he breathed violently through his clenched teeth and held his breath as long as he could, “assuming a purple tinge,” as Dr. Batten states, “which was apt to be disconcerting until one was accustomed to it.” Faradism and force permitted the removal of false teeth but only to the accompaniment of shrieks, foaming, and violent movements of the arms, lacrimation, and sweating. During sleep, the face was at rest. The spasm of left face and of jaw would come on a few seconds after waking, when an observer was perceived. Attempts to force the mouth open invoked the same procedure as before in spite of the fact that the patient ate well. In a month he was virtually normal.

It appears that May 13, about five weeks before, the patient had been struck by shrapnel on the right hand, forearm, and shoulder, and base of the nose, while in France. He had been dazed but had not lost consciousness, and the wounds had completely healed before arrival at hospital. It was about a week after being wounded that the patient was operated upon for removal of shrapnel from the face. Upon recovery from the anesthetic, the patient found himself unable to move the right side of the face. Unable to remove his teeth, he had been fed by rubber tube.

Shell-shock: Hyperesthesia and over-reaction.

=Case 223.= (MYERS, March, 1916.)

A stretcher-bearer, 19, who had had 18 months’ service and 6 months’ service in France, sent to Lieut-Col. Myers the day after admission to a base hospital, showed a remarkable condition of hyperesthesia and over-reaction.

It appears that four days before, he had been blown up three times by aero torpedo mortar shells while attending the wounded. One had blown him into the air, another had blown him into a dug-out, and a third had knocked him down. Two or three hours later, having finished the job of carrying wounded to the dressing station, everything seemed to “go black” in the dug-out where he was resting, and from that time on he had been shaky. It seemed that he had hardly slept for several days before he finally gave in.

There were irregular spasmodic movements of the head, arms (especially the right), and legs (especially the left). There were coarse tremors and incoördination in moving the arms. With eyes closed, he touched his nose with uncertainty. Cotton-wool touch on arms or head provoked lively movements. “I was always ticklish,” he explained, “but never like this; I can’t stand it, Sir.” Pinpricks produced almost convulsions. There was perspiration, rigidity of legs, and spasm such that knee-jerks were unobtainable. Plantar reaction, flexor. There were also visual hallucinations of bursting shells, and these were also heard when dozing.

Improvement followed with rest, but about two weeks later, on waking to find himself being carried back to his tent to avoid a shower, he was so terrified that a special nurse became necessary. He was still jumpy the next day, alarmed at footsteps, and afflicted with headache. He improved further in three days; remained two months in hospital in England, had one month’s leave, and then returned to light duty.

Shell-shock; thrown against wall; comrades killed; no visible trauma, or loss of consciousness: Persistent TREMORS, augmented in intentional movements; CRISES of agitation following noise or emotion.

=Case 224.= (MEIGE, February, 1916.)

A corporal (an expert gunner) and his squad had just entered a mine shaft on Nouvron Plateau, January 13, 1915, when a shell, bursting above them, threw him violently against the wall and killed or wounded several of his comrades. The corporal himself was not wounded, nor is it clear that consciousness was lost. The man lay waiting on the ground for some time until a communication trench could be finished and he could be evacuated without much danger from the mine shaft. He had already begun to tremble, and trembled still more while going back in the trench.

He carried on there for a fortnight, always trembling, but not eating and no longer able to handle a gun. He was evacuated a month later and sent successively to Villers-Cotterets, to Meaux, to Courneuve (a month), again to Meaux, and finally to the neurological center at Villers-Cotterets, where he remained for two months (April 13 to June 15, 1915). Here he was given the diagnosis of hysterical chorea by Guillain, and showed lively knee-jerks and Achilles jerks and great emotionality. The tremors were greatly increased when the cannon grew loud or bombs burst nearby. Lumbar puncture here showed a perfectly normal spinal fluid. He was then sent to the Salpêtrière, June 19, 1915, and was evacuated July 13 to a civil hospital until September 24, whence he was sent for convalescence to his home village, October 6 to December 15, from which he was returned to the Salpêtrière.

Throughout these transfers there had been no change whatever in his status. For almost a year, as the result of a shell explosion, he had been trembling in precisely the same way. All four extremities trembled equally, unless the right arm and the left leg might be thought to tremble a bit more. The tremor was equally pronounced in dorsal decubitus as in the sitting or upright postures, but ceased during sleep. The tremors were worse in the evening and it was hard for the man to get to sleep. The eyelids and tongue showed a few irregular, jerking movements, not synchronous with the tremor of the extremities. The head showed few tremors. The patient was able to diminish the trembling of the arms somewhat by keeping the elbows flexed at a right angle and held firmly to his body. If the tremor of the legs got more energetic, the patient would get up and take a few steps. Any movement, such as laying hold of an object, carrying a spoon or a glass to the mouth, led to an exaggeration of the tremors in such wise that the tremor of multiple sclerosis in its most extreme form was recalled. It was very hard for the man to eat. If the eyes were closed, the tremors grew more marked. The emotion caused by sudden noise or sharp command or memory of his trench life caused motor crises, with coarse, generalized movements, and even loss of balance. This agitation grew gradually less marked, but the tremors persisted. An attempt to test reflexes led to violent generalized contractions. There was no sensory disorder. The pulse was variable; at rest it stood at 60; if a table near by was struck suddenly, the pulse would go up to 120.

Sharp gunfire: TREMORS; TREMOPHOBIA. A patient’s (an artist) description of his feelings.

=Case 225.= (MEIGE, February, 1916.)

One of Meige’s victims of shell-shock tremors was an artist. He stood the hardest sort of trench life for many months without disorder. Under particularly sharp fire, “the machine went off the track,” as the artist said, and he began to tremble. Both arms and head trembled, but especially the head, which was subject to small sidewise oscillations, variable in degree, and almost permanent,--a sort of vibration which the patient could diminish somewhat by stiffening his neck muscles. His manual tremor was not exaggerated by voluntary movements. Superficially he resembled a Parkinsonian case. He presented a curious appearance of combined vibrations and stiffness.

There was no doubt that this tremor had an emotional origin. In fact, the psychopathic status of the patient was described by the artist himself. “My nervous state, which I thought ought to last not more than a fortnight, still persists more than three, or almost four, months after being evacuated, although the trembling is a little less. I am calmer and palpitate less, and my hands perspire less when I am emotional or making an effort. At first, the slightest shock immediately ran through me, followed by an uncontrollable trembling. Now there is an appreciable delay between the shock and the trembling; I can control it for a few seconds but not longer. The subway gate noises, a flaring light, a locomotive whistle, the barking of a dog, or some boyish prank is enough to set off the trembling; going to the theater, listening to music, reading a poem, or being present at a religious ceremony, acts the same way. Recently when a flag was being raised at the Invalides, I thought at first that I was going to be cured by so moving a spectacle, but then I suddenly began to tremble so violently that I had to cry out, and I had to sit down, weeping like a child. Sometimes the trembling comes on suddenly without any cause. I went to a novelty shop to do some errands with my wife. The crowd, the lights, the rustling of the silk, the colors of the goods--everything was a delight to me to look upon,--a contrast to our trench misery. I was happy and chatted merrily, like a schoolboy on a vacation. All of a sudden I felt that my strength was leaving me. I stopped talking; I felt a bad sensation in my back; I felt my cheeks hollowing in. I began to stare, and the trembling came on again, together with a great feeling of discomfort. If I can lean against something, sit down, or better, lie down, the trembling gets better and pretty soon stops. There are three conditions in which I feel well: first, upon waking after 11 or 12 hours’ sleep; next, after a meal, especially if it is a good one; and lastly, and above all, when I get the electric douche. Then, as if by magic, my ideas get clear, cheerful, and regain color; I feel myself again. That lasts for an hour or so; then I relapse into my sad state.”

As to the tremophobia, this patient says “In the tramway or in the subway, I perceive that people are looking at me, and that gives me a terrible feeling. I feel that I am inspiring pity. Some excellent woman offers me her seat. I am deeply touched; but if they look at me and say nothing, what are they thinking of me? This anxiety makes me suffer a good deal. If I am able to speak it is less painful to me, for then it is obvious that, despite my trembling, I am not a coward. What a sad situation this is!”

Meige remarks that therapeutics is not especially successful in these cases of tremor. Sedative drugs, hyoscyamin, hyoscin, duboisin, and scopolamin, do not last long and should be used cautiously. Static electricity works well in some cases. Rest, isolation, and calm.

As for the military prognosis, a period of observation of some three to four months may be necessary to learn the nature of the tremor. If the tremor then fails to alter, a convalescent leave for one or two months may be given. The patient should then be re-observed _by the same physician_. Upon persistence of tremor, temporary invaliding. Tremors may be wittingly cultivated for medicolegal purposes (Brissaud’s sinistrosis.)

Letters of a German soldier about his shell-shock.

=Case 226.= (GAUPP, April, 1915.)

A volunteer, 21, who had been in civil life a lackey, wrote as follows upon arrival in Gaupp’s clinic:

“On account of our privations and the various terrible scenes that you have to see, my nerves went back on me. Like the rest of the front, we too had to suffer terribly heavy artillery fire from December 20 onwards. December 29 at eight o’clock in the evening, when I was about to mount guard at the camp, I was thrown down by a shell that unexpectedly struck near me across the earth pushed out into a trench. I ran at once to cover as some more shots followed directly. I couldn’t be made to do anything on the thirtieth nor can I very clearly remember the events of that day. There was a terrific cannonade again, then cries of the wounded and the sight of the dead, etc. I was told afterwards that I fell down, cried, struck about me, and remained lying, dazed. The first that I can remember was that I was lying on a floor. I was then carried into another house, into a better room. Then I regained consciousness and could hear again after the noise in the ears had stopped, but I could not talk or walk. I was unconscious for two days. I got into the hospital train at R. the next day but had to be carried in as I could not walk. Travelling in the train made me quite foolish in my head and gave me bad headaches; I could not form any clear thoughts.”

It seems that this volunteer had not been quite up to the hardships of the war from the beginning; always a weakling, he had to be spared on the marches. In fact, he had been refused by the army at the first examination as unfit. He had been a nervous, tender, somewhat anxious fellow since childhood.

At the clinic there was an astasia and an abasia without any signs of organic disease. The striking feature was mutism. He could understand things spoken and written, but he was entirely mute, nodding and shaking his head properly for affirmatives and negatives. He carried with him a few slips of paper with written requests, like: “Please, can I have salt; otherwise I can’t eat the soup;” “Are we going to ride farther, I have such a bad headache. The doctor must not come. The one who wanted to shoot me if I couldn’t speak. They are all bad.”

Treatment by suggestion (laryngeal faradization, lively verbal suggestion to pronounce single vowels, syllables, and whole words and sentences with enunciation of them) removed the mutism in a few days. At first the man’s speech was low and somewhat retarded, but later it became entirely normal. Within ten days the abasia cleared up and the patient became lively and cheerful. He was depressed on finding that he had lice, but after losing them became happy and childlike again.

February 1, however, on learning that he would be able to do garrison duty again, he took the news very soberly, and grew more quiet, trembled and seemed anxious.

February 7, he was sent to the garrison, increasingly excited. His own account of it in a letter written to a hospital nurse, runs as follows:

“As you will see, I did not reach Dn. but only got as far as here [Another hospital]. I will tell you how it happened. Probably I ought to have remained in Tübingen for a while longer and perhaps then nothing would have happened to me. You will remember that I was more nervous and excited the last days than I had been before, and the cause was also known to you. I wanted to get home in some way and so I pretended to be as well as possible. That crying attack, or whatever it was [an outcry in a frightful dream] had not been thought of by the physician any further, you know, and so I didn’t think anything about it either. Then the head doctor asked me once if I had any trouble left. Well, I spoke out everything I had to say, but no further attention was paid to that either. Then when I took a walk and after walking slowly two hours could hardly stand, was trembling all over and had a high pulse and also a violent acute pain in the region of the heart, that wasn’t of any importance either. Well, then I just got better from day to day and so I got what I wanted only too easily because they wanted the space and I certainly would have gone home and not to Dn. as I should have. [His reserve battalion was at Dn.] I got into the wrong train at St. so as to go home. I kept saying to myself, ‘You can’t do that, it will be punished.’ Nevertheless I couldn’t act any other way because I was really sick from longing for home.”

Here he described an episode in a comrade who had lain beside him in the clinic, had gone off with him and had a hysterical excitement in Heidelberg so that he had to be detrained.

“I was so awfully sorry to see him so miserable. I began to cry and was startled by every train coming from the opposite direction and by every loud noise. I was stared at by everybody in Frankfort and I could only cry more. Then a soldier scolded me because I was running senselessly up and down. Finally I got into the Leipzig train. Another guard questioned me. Everything then got more and more confused in me; I heard my mother call; then I heard shooting again; and finally I was entirely confused. I came to my senses in a room in the station toward evening, and was frightened again at a loud noise somewhere or a passing train. Then I was told what I had done in the train. I had cried out and raved, tried to get out of the car, called for my father and mother, wanted to go home, imitated shooting; allowed myself to be calmed a little, but began to shout again at every loud noise. When I was out of the train I bit a soldier and tore his whole coat open, so then I was carried to the hospital here in an auto. Up to this time I have been able to calm myself very well. The physician said that it was quite natural that I should not have very strong nerves yet. I must have beaten about and got knocked against things a good deal. There are bruises on my head and I am covered with black-and-blue spots.”

A British soldier’s account of his shell-shock.

=Case 227.= (BATTEN, January, 1916.)

A British soldier, 22 years, who went out to France in November, 1914, remained well until March 12, 1915, when after shell explosion, he became unconscious for half an hour, and on recovery found he was deaf and dumb. He was able to think of words but could not say them. He remained dazed and frightened for a time, and still wakes up with a start at night.

He was admitted to the National Hospital for the Paralyzed and Epileptic, March 25, 1915, and on March 27 recovered his speech suddenly and spontaneously. By March 29 he had completely recovered and talked well. Dr. Batten remarks “how perfect the memory may be up to the time of concussion, and how complete the mechanism is for expressing the ideas in written words when that for spoken words is abolished”; which may be seen from the patient’s own account, as follows: