"During this time we were subjected to gas attacks of course, and I developed a whole series of sores on my legs, which, it being late October, we were sleeping with our clothes on, winter clothing by the way. No chance for a bath, no chance to take our clothes off as a matter of fact. We were doing 8 hours on and 8 hours off duty. So we hardly had time to sleep and eat, let alone anything else. I did report to the division headquarters medical officer who was a lieutenant in a small cubicle of a first aid shack approximately three feet by three feet. He investigated and found out that I had carbuncles all up and down the inside of my right leg. He blasted the hell out of me for not reporting before, before they broke. I told him my situation that there were only three of us on the radio station. We had to be on duty 8 hours on and 8 hours off and that there were no replacements in the company and for this reason we couldn’t leave the station. He said well I’m going to send you back to the hospital. I said please, there’s nobody to take my place I can’t go to the hospital. In which he replied if I tell you go to the hospital, you’ll go to the hospital.

I should have taken his advice and gone. I would have had at least a medical notation on my discharge, which I don’t have now, and it might have gotten me a 10% pension. I didn’t go to the hospital, but I went back every day and reported to him. The first treatment I got for these carbuncles was when he slashed them open with a scalpel, treated them with raw alcohol, swabbed them out again with iodine and then put a bandage over them and told me to come back the next day for the same treatment, which I kept on doing for a week or more."
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