BARNABAS TALES
A Pot-Pourri of Stories, People, Travel and Nonsense
by
JOHN WOOD.
Copyright 2014 John Wood.
BARNABAS TALES - by JOHN WOOD.
A Pot-Pourri of Stories, People, Travel and Nonsense.
Many years of attending Kate Jones’ writing class have led to a collection of old homeworks and things dashed off in class. Some have been polished here, some left untouched and I have gathered a number together. Where Kate had marked my homework and made corrections I have generally incorporated them, and anything worthwhile owes much to her inspiration and friendship. Towards the end various pieces in the travel sections come from the logs which Bridget and I keep when we are away from home.
There is a separate collection of ditties and doggerel to be published elsewhere.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Family and Medics – Very Mixed
A Home Visit - to Advise a President, Kampala 1971.
Annie is Ready Again –An Indomitable Manikin.
A Friend in Need – A cigarette packet tries to comfort his victim.
Granpop - Alexander Battersby.
Hampstead Sorrows – Cyclothymia.
In Praise of Home Visits – or Carry on Consulting. Medicine on the Hoof.
Letter for a Friend.
Annual Tribute on Nightingale Day – 12th May, as Celebrated in Muheza, Tanzania.
An Old School Friend and the PM
Old Rooms – The most Ancient Consultant reminisces.
One Very Singular Life – Prof. Alan Tyson – Fellow of All Souls, CBE, House Physician.
The Home Visit at Tannochbrae – The Lure of Golf.
Tuberculosis – Three Unfortunate Patients.
Toasts – Rear Admiral Adams’ tale from the China Station.
Homework Copy – War as a Project.
The Lanhope Countrywoman.
The Specialist Visits at Home – Hard Work.
Basil Miles – Physician and Naturalist.
Charles Renton – Surgeon, Scot, Sailor, Peacemaker – Thoughts for Funeral address.
Tales from Abroad and Other Times
Androcles and his Friend.
A Better Day in Baghdad.
Belinda goes to a Far-Eastern Army-ruled State.
Selling the Cherry Orchard.
A Desert.Honeymoon
Military Control in Hesse State.
Moroccan Travel Guide.
Figaro’s Tale.
Baba Noel – Virtue Rewarded at Last.
Mageroya Island and the Shetland Bus.
A First Day on the Slopes.
Long Day’s Drive in Iraq.
Honeymoon on the Turkish Coast - True Love will find a Way.
Yugoslavia in Ruin.
Miscellaneous Prose - Whimsy and Nonsense
Courtesy.
A Desert Island Story.
The End of the Cricket Season.
Letters after the Golf Match - The Sport of Gentlemen.
The Spice of Life.
Numbers.
“Sky-Blue” Thinking Leak.
The Leather-Bound Ledger.
Preston Wynne – Sunday Village Cricket.
Sounds and Hearing.
Tick Bird Crisis.
The New Decisive Democratic Party.
Tales from Nearer Home
The Bothy below the Golden Eagles.
Until the Flag Drops.
Douglas in Trouble.
The Stand-In.
Night Watch.
Eclipse Night.
The Tunnel.
Hop Picking at Coldbank Farm.
Hen Night at the Local Pub.
Homecoming.
Dormington Knocker’s Tale.
The Visitor.
It’s an Ill Flood …
The Light Fantastic.
The Two-Tone Van.
Rescue at the Mill.
Preparing the Sermon.
The Test.
Not High Tide.
Windy Willows Reunion.
The Frome Bridge.
Archeological Fragment.
Very Late Spring 30 Years On.
Plays Various.
Preparing for Armageddon.
The Empty Locker.
Selecting the Players.
Cinderella Scene 1.
Top People’s Cumulus.
Halloween at the Vicarage.
10 AM at the BEEB.
Spooks in Love.
Opening the Fete.
A Few of Our Travel Tales
All Very Sporting – Yugoslavia.
Gozo Inscription.
Stopped in my Tracks.
Lost Contact.
Hush for the Day.
The Chick of Glen Coruisk.
A Summer Day on the Mid-Wales Line.
Letter to Archie from Kampala.
Cocoa Water Rafting and Northern Lights.
Kidepo – Last big Ugandan Safari.
Letter about Irish Sail.
Time to Leave Skye.
Lycia.
Palm Sunday, Muheza.
Kampala to Marangu Safari.
Santorini.
Schruns.
Shelter on Corsica.
Family and Medics - Very Mixed
These are mostly descriptions or tales about family, especially medical ones, and professional friends. Most are self-explanatory.
A HOME VISIT - TO ADVISE A PRESIDENT - KAMPALA 1971.
David Barkham was one of the Consultant Physicians at Mulago Hospital in Kampala, Uganda, when Idi Amin seized power. I was his Senior Registrar in 1968 and 1969. An outstanding clinician, he always set his face against doing research which he thought, for him, was a waste of time. He had been Physician to the Kabaka of Uganda who was overthrown by Milton Obote, and then Obote in his turn was removed in 1969 by the Army under Idi Amin (after Bridget and I had left Kampala). David became doctor for Amin and his large family. He was expelled at short notice after a very curious consultation with Idi Amin. I heard this story in London while having supper with David and his wife Anne soon after their expulsion and have turned it into imaginary dialogue. David’s experiences may possible have contributed the germ of an idea to the story of “The Last King of Scotland”. He was certainly President Amin’s British doctor, but any likeness stops there.
The bungalow windows overlooked a lush garden. "Ann, for you - the telephone."
Ann Barkham stood up beside the low tea table. "David, Hello. All right – I’ll expect you to pick me up from Margaret's before 5.30. Don't be late. Thank you for telling me where you will be. Bye, dear."
The old Mercedes climbed Nakasero Hill passing mounds of flowering Bougainvillea covered the house fences. At the top the car stopped in front of the Command Post. Automatic rifle raised, a soldier stooped at the window. He nodded, the gates opened and David parked by the steps and lifted out his case and stethoscope. Another soldier opened the door and followed him into the cool shadowed hall. "Wait here." A young woman walked past and a small child peered from the far end. Through an open door television flickered in a darkened room.
"Come this way. The President will see you."
The huge man looked round as David entered the room. "Welcome, David. Come in. Sit down."
"Good afternoon, President. How are you? How are your family?"
"I am well. I do not need an injection today. How are you? I have brought you here for advice. How many years have you been in this country?"
"Nearly ten, but in Mbale for the first two before coming to Mulago Hospital."
"And you used to see Mutesa?"
"I had the honour of attending him as well as yourself and your family, sir."
"David, I am very disappointe
d and angry about my Army Council - they are a group of loose individuals up to great mischief and lining their pockets at the same time. They have started behaving like crooks instead of as my soldiers. I must deal with the ringleaders. I will come straight to the point. Would your government send troops to help me control them?"
"President - That is a question for the High Commissioner and not for me - I am a doctor, not a politician or a diplomat."
"Of course, of course - I know all that - but you read the Times each day. You must advise me about the probable reply."
"President - I don't know - it might depend on the circumstances. Do you wish to tell me more?"
"Once in Obote’s time British troops came to stop a coup, and then without any invitation. You remember how grateful the British government was when I replaced Obote. Surely they would support me if I asked? My big problem is the army - my army. Each division and each commander is only interested in money, women, drugs and drink. The Army Council keeps demanding money for wages and equipment, which I need for other things and last week we had a blazing row so I ordered them to pull themselves together! In the end they put me under house arrest! What do you make of that?"
"I'm astonished President - but what about now?"
"I am here and in full charge again, so far as anyone can be. The fools were unable to decide what to do or who should give the orders. They dislike each other too much to agree, so after three days they withdrew their guards, presented me with a medal and escorted me back here as the government head."
"There was no rumour of trouble."
"They could not agree what to announce."
"What they did sounds like treason?"
"Not exactly - though that does not excuse it. You may know that the Army Council has the power to remove the Chief of Staff and President."
"But you appoint the Army Council."
"Yes – but I only appoint or remove two members at a time. But tell me - would Mr. Heath send troops or his airforce to enable me to clean up the Army Council?"
"President, the removal from your country of businessmen and shopkeepers has caused much comment in the British press. I think troops are unlikely, but this is a matter for the Commissioner and the Military Attaché."
"If not the army, then I want a visit from your Queen or one of the Royal Family. They would enjoy a visit - dancing, music and feasting – and I and my people would be very happy. Princess Anne could go riding. We would change the name of the game-park back to Queen Elizabeth and they could all visit it. David - do you have any contacts to arrange that?"
"President - I deeply regret that I have no Royal friends or contacts. Once again the High Commissioner would be the best person to ask."
There was a knock at the door. An immaculately uniformed officer entered, saluted, and gave a paper to the President who scanned it briefly. The officer murmured and the President handed back the paper. "Very well. Very Good. Approved. The usual procedures. Keep no record." The officer smiled, saluted, then looked at David as he passed and his smile vanished. "Good day, doctor." "Good day, Colonel." He left the room.
The President sat down again and began to discuss recent legislation. He asked about his recent Act forbidding lorries to move after dark. "What do the British here think of that?"
"It should save many lives and also many lorries."
"Ah, so you approve? I must telephone Mr. Heath to suggest it to him. He should do the same in England."
Eventually the President stood up. "Thank you David for your thoughts and advice. Tell me, have you and your delightful wife decided yet about applying for Ugandan nationality? That could easily be arranged."
"President, I greatly appreciate the honour you do to me and to Anne. Please may we continue to consider this carefully - we have many deep roots in England."
"Very well, think about it. Now I will take you to your patient, the daughter of my fourth wife.
They entered a bedroom where a little girl lay. She had a sore throat. David examined her and prescribed a gargle.
"She needs an antibiotic."
"President, she has a mild viral infection which antibiotics will not cure. Her throat will get better without - if she develops a fever or remains unwell in two days, please call me again."
"She needs an antibiotic."
"President, I have given my best advice, based on twenty years experience."
The President's face hardened, he lifted his arm, and his bulk seemed to dwarf the doctor. Then he smiled, patted David on the back with a hand which almost knocked him over, and put his arm around his shoulder. "I value your judgement. Think about my nationality offer. And give my love to your beautiful wife. May Allah protect you both."
David climbed into his car, shakily turned on the lights and ignition and drove home to a distraught Anne.
The President spoke to his aide, "Order Musa to bring antibiotics."
Seven days later the evening bulletin reported that a group of expatriates were to be expelled immediately for "Political Gonorrhoea". David’s name was included, but no details were given. He tried to contact the President directly and then through the Minister of Health but without success.
Tears wet Ann's cheeks as they looked out of the VC10 heading north. "I used to love seeing Entebbe become a toy town, but this will be the last time." David took her hand "We have left a lot but we are going home together."
ANNIE IS READY AGAIN (AN IMDOMITABLE MANIKIN)
This sad little letter was prompted by examination of a Resuscitannie given to us by the Local Nuffield Hospital to be sent to Teule Hospital, Muheza. These manikins enable people to practice resuscitation skills using cardiac massage and providing artificial mouth-to-mouth respiration. But when Bridget tried to inflate Annie’s chest she failed, and we found the reason was an obstruction in the trachea. With some difficulty and a pair of plyers this was extracted and proved to be half a denture. We never heard who had lost it or what happened to the other half. Photographs and a short article were, disappointingly, rejected by the British Medical and British Dental Journals. Let Annie tell her own story:-
Dear Reader,
My name is Annie and I’ve experienced a lot, though I’m still not twenty. Without risk of contradiction I’ve had far more kisses and chest squeezes than hot dinners. I used to live at a private Nuffield hospital, but one day something awful happened. I was enjoying one of my sessions – you know how it goes, puff, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, puff, puff - when suddenly I felt something in my throat and the puffs stopped moving my chest.
Well, at that place they don’t put up with girls who can’t respond, and first I was placed in a cupboard and then given away to be sent to Africa. I’d heard about trafficking but never thought it could happen to me. It was quite an unpleasant surprise, but a girl’s got to be prepared to adapt.
Anyway, before the trip I had a short medical. When they found my chest could not move, I felt fingers and something poking around my neck and throat. It was very sore, but eventually a pair of pliers fished out two teeth on a dental plate, and now once more I can ventilate comfortably. I do think it was careless of someone to drop their dentures down my windpipe.
So I’m looking forward to Africa and I keep smiling and determined to go on providing my services – puff, puff, squeeze, squeeze. “Lie there and do your duty”, has always been our Resuscitannie family motto.
Yours sincerely, Anatomic Annie.
A FRIEND IN NEED?
(A cigarette packet comforts his victim.)
In the Chest Clinic in Hereford I saw most of Herefordshire’s patients suffering from Carcinoma of the Bronchus, usually amounting to two or three new patients each week. Most had been long-term smokers, and the prognosis for almost all was bleak. Few would be alive a year after diagnosis. For very many years the tobacco companies resisted all suggestions that cigarettes were harmful, and of course nicotine is an enormously powerful drug of addiction. (I remember one colleague telling me that on wakening h
e had to have his first cigarette of the day ready to light beside the bed – though surviving an early coronary thrombosis did cure him of his dependency.)
The link between people and their cigarettes is really strong. A possible dialogue between a smoker and his close companion follows as a breathless ill man looks back over a long love affair, picks up a packet of cigarettes, looks at it doubtfully and puts it down again. He addresses the packet and it replies promptly to the sick man’s every sentence:-
"I trusted you and thought we would be friends for ever."
"We are still very close - I am sure that our partnership will endure."
"Do you remember? I was a teenager when we fell in love."
"Yes, that is the best age to start relationships."
"You gave me a lot of self-confidence and status among my young friends."
"I'm good at that."
"When I was tense you helped me to relax and to pick myself up when I was tired or jaded."
"That has always been part of my attraction."
"You used to warm me on cold mornings, and were nicely cool after steamy nights."
"I remember it well."
"We spent a lot of time together, you and I. Our relationship cost a good deal of money."
"That was not my doing - I had to pay my bosses and their bosses."
"Once or twice I tried to give up our affair, but I used to feel dreadful. Then when my lips met yours the sun would shine and the birds would sing again."
"I always felt much more satisfied when you came back to me."
"But now people say such dreadful things about you."
"You should not believe them - spoilsports, authoritarians, all making up evidence against me."
"Is there any truth in these awful accusations?"
"There is no hard evidence. It is all based on doubtful epidemiological studies."
"Could I have caught anything from you?"
"Perhaps a slight taste for luxury and self-indulgence. That is all! And remember, I am the product of nature - very Green and wholesome."
"I now get these curious pains when I walk and I am very short of breath."
"The best thing is to slow down - stop for a few minutes and let me warm and relax you. Whatever you do, don't worry."
Barnabas Tales Page 1