The Polish Connection 33

We have all heard about Spanish flu, but it has now come to our area. There are 25 students at the local schools with flu, so they have closed them for the time being. I am watching the girls carefully for any signs.

I wrote that last week and now, my beloved Rebecca is one of its victims. She came home from school last Friday with a terrible headache, and obviously a fever. I suspected that it was flu and put her right to bed, and have sat and slept by her bedside putting cool compresses to her head, and encouraging her to take sips of water. I have prayed every prayer I know, and non stop rosaries to the Virgin of Fatima and every other saint I can think of. I even included St. Wojciech, assuming his influence goes beyond the croaking of frogs. My strong beautiful girl was so ill, she could hardly breathe, her fever was so high she was delirious. I am pleased that Beth understood that I wasn’t rejecting her, but I had to spend all my time with Rebecca. I wouldn’t let Beth come into the room, but she put her toys in the hallway outside, so she could see and talk to me, without being too close. Beth even made me meals and brought up drinks. Well to be fair, she put jam on bread rolls and brought up a glass of milk, and some cookies, but both she and I thought that it was a very special meal.

I can’t let her go into Rebecca’s room, but I expect that she has already been exposed to the germs. So far, she has shown no signs of coming down with it as well. This was another kind of war – and please God, this war must be over soon too.

Rebecca’s fever broke on the 3rd night, and she is making a slow recovery now. The doctor said she was lucky that she was in such good physical condition, and that she is young and healthy. He said she had only a very mild case. I asked him to examine Beth too, but he said she looked fine, and he didn’t want to risk contaminating her, as he himself might well be a carrier. The war seems a long time ago as our worries are now so much more an immediate threat to those of us at home. Thank God for sparing Rebecca’s life. I must make sure to keep Beth safe now.

Here is what the Manchester Guardian has to say about this horrible disease.

Influenza epidemic at its height in Manchester Saturday November 30, 1918

Guardian Unlimited

The influenza in Manchester has reached an acute stage. For the last month, the number of sufferers and the rate of mortality have steadily increased, and this week illness has been more widespread than ever.

Medical authorities, however, regard the outbreak as having reached the culminating point, and anticipate a decline from now onwards. Last night, representatives of places of amusement in Manchester met Dr Niven and the chief constable, and decided not, at present, to admit children under fourteen to performances.

Meanwhile, doctors are unable to respond to all the calls made upon them. “We are only human,” said a doctor to a representative of the Manchester Guardian yesterday “and cannot do the impossible. It is inevitable that some people cannot be attended to at all.”

Interment of the Dead

A situation has arisen in connection with the interment of the dead which, it is stated, is a grave menace to the public health.

All the mortuaries are full. Undertakers, who have been working night and day, cannot keep pace with orders and, at cemeteries, the labour required for grave digging has proved quite inadequate. The opening of a grave cannot be guaranteed in less than eight or ten days from the placing of an order, and instances have occurred of almost a fortnight elapsing between the date of death and the day of burial.

Every effort is being made to secure the release of skilled coffin-makers from the army, and a certain amount of soldier labour for the digging of graves has already been obtained.

Dr Niven, medical officer of health for Manchester, said, in the course of an interview yesterday, that the delay in the carrying out burials and the collection in undertakers' establishments of persons who had died from an infectious disease was certainly a very unsatisfactory state of affairs.

It was an imperative necessity that the War Office should send skilled coffin-makers back to the workshops without delay. The situation might be relieved by greater simplicity in funeral arrangements but relatives were insisting on strict observance of custom, with its paraphernalia of hearse, coaches and elaborate oak coffins. Another method of amelioration would be a more extensive use of the crematorium.

Much more grave than in the summer

Dr Niven added that the outbreak in the middle of last summer was very bad, but the present form of the illness was much more severe.

Although he could not say definitely that the American troops introduced it to this country, it certainly broke out shortly after they were landed. To be quite sure whether or not the Americans did bring it here, it would be necessary to discover whether the London outbreak preceded or followed the arrival of American troops.

Yesterday, all schools in Manchester were closed until after the Christmas holidays, and an effort is being made to bring about the closing of all Sunday schools as from tomorrow Dr Ritchie, schools’ medical officer for Manchester, said the closing of schools was caused in a few instances by the illness of the staff, but the general order was given as a protective measure. On this occasion, the epidemic had developed more slowly, with the result that there was a large number of convalescent and debilitated children, who would, in the ordinary course, drift back to school.

He did not think there were many more people affected now than in the summer, but the colder and more inclement weather had made complications more numerous, and had caused a bigger number of deaths.

The progressive nature of the epidemic is evident from figures showing the death rate in Manchester in the past four weeks.

We had a letter from Peter.

Dear Barbara, Rebecca and my little Beth,

I was so sorry to hear about your Spanish flu, Rebecca, and am pleased that you have made a quick and full recovery. Please keep my Beth safe if you can.

The war is over but we are still here, and the spirit of goodwill of the season doesn’t seem to extend quite this far, but even so there are some bright spots.

This is our fifth Christmas of the war, the war which is now over except for us, and a great effort is being made to prepare special tokens and messages of goodwill. Each camp has been adopted by societies or groups of individuals, and for each man there is provided a parcel containing some little gift and extra food.

The three main organisations interested in the prisoners’ welfare unite each year to arrange for some common action to mark Christmas, but each year less is done partly because of the tightening of regulations, which forbid the introduction of food and other gifts. The Emergency Committee gives a personal message to each of us in the form of a calendar, with appropriate inscriptions of hope and good-will. But we also have a wealthy sympathiser who offers each year a sum of sixpence to a shilling per head to all prisoners and also to all members of their guard, in order to help them in their arrangements of Christmas cheer.

Love, Peter

I read that Wilfred Owen, the war poet died last month too. Here is what the paper said, “He escaped bullets until the last week of the war, but he saw a good deal of front-line action: he was blown up, concussed and suffered shell-shock. At Craiglockhart, the psychiatric hospital in Edinburgh, he met Siegfried Sassoon who inspired him to develop his war poetry.

He was sent back to the trenches in September, 1918 and in October won the Military Cross by seizing a German machine-gun and using it to kill a number of Germans.

On 4th November he was shot and killed near the village of Ors. The news of his death reached his parents home as the Armistice bells were ringing on 11 November.”

Here is my most recent letter from John.

Dear Barbara,

This will probably be the last letter I shall write from here as I hope to be leaving the Island on about next Friday. I have to report to the Department in Chester to sign a few forms, but as I shall already have had the medical and handed in all my kit out here it shouldn’t take too long. I shall probably come home on next Thursday if all goes well.

Out here life is much as usual except that things happen seem to be aimed against the British now rather than between the Greeks and the Turks. Every time we go out of camp we have to stop at least one Greek Cypriot between 18 and 35 and search him for arms, bombs, etc. So far I have found nothing, but it is unsettling how many people go around with leaflets and things.

Can’t wait to see you again.

Love from John

Thursday came, and John came home, looking tired and worn, but ever so happy for it all to be over. He was pleased to see Rebecca looking well again after the flu, and our Beth has managing to avoid it for the moment, but we must keep a close guard on her. Our love was rekindled, and gave us both almost unbelievable joy. It surely is true that you appreciate what you have so much more, when you have gone without it for awhile.

Our Christmas was a joyous one, with John home again, if only Peter could have been allowed out too, but apparently there is much red tape to be gone through before they let the internees go.

We bought Beth a teddy bear for Christmas - a rather special one as it is made by Steiff. I asked John if he felt that was unpatriotic, buying a German toy, but he said he felt that we needed to try to get our relationship with Germany back, and helping their economy was one way to do it. We also got her some new books and jigsaws. It was so much fun to shop together again, although because of the flu we were very careful about where we went.

John had bought some rather wonderful perfume for both Rebecca and me before he left Cyprus, in very ornate little bottles.

We had our usual books for Christmas presents, and this year I bought John an American author, Sinclair Lewis’ new book, The Job. We bought Peter The Man with Two Left Feet by P.G. Wodehouse. John bought me Missing by Mary Augusta Ward, and Summer by Edith Wharton.

Life continued as usual for a month or so after John came home, and then one day there was a note from Peter. He had long been expecting to get released, and he said, that from next Monday, he was going to be a free man, and would be coming over to see us as soon as he could manage it. He also said, “I am bringing a surprise with me.”

Beth said, “Daddy will be bringing me a present. I wonder what it could be. I haven’t seen him for so long and I wonder if he will be the same Daddy as I knew before. I wonder if he will still like me.”

I said, “Darling, of course he will. He loves you and always has. He only left you here so that you would have a normal life while he was away in a situation that he couldn’t control. And you have been writing to him regularly and sending him pictures. He will be so pleased to see what a wonderful, beautiful, clever girl you are.”

Then we decided that we had better get the house tidied up for our guest. John said, “Perhaps you can share your room, Rebecca, with Beth, and then Peter can sleep in her little room.”

“Daddy sleeps downstairs,” said Beth.

“What do you mean?” asked John. “Of course we must give him a proper bed. You don’t mind sharing with Rebecca, do you?”

“No,” said Beth, “but Daddy has always slept downstairs.”

“What do you mean always?” asked John.

“Before he went away, he slept downstairs.”

“In the living room do you mean?”

“No, downstairs in the cellar,” said Beth, close to tears now at this close questioning of what she thought was an innocent enough remark. “And each night he came up to see me and tuck me in and read me a story.”

“I think your daddy would be more comfortable upstairs this time, Beth. It is much warmer and closer to the bathroom, and to where you are. Why don’t you go and play with Rebecca now, while her daddy and I discuss the details,” I said.

So Beth went off, somewhat mollified, but realising that the sudden tension in the air was something she didn’t understand and didn’t like.