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PUTLAND George Sydney EARLY TRAINING In my youth I took a
keen interest in St. Johns Ambulance work, I was awarded my First Aid
Certificate in 1900. During my leisure hours I had always a small first aid
outfit in my pocket. I hoped I would come across an accident in the London
streets and practice what I had been trained to do, to render First Aid to the
injured. One very cold and snowy night, my chance came, the streets were very
slippery like glass and up the street I saw a man fall and strike his head
against a lamp post. A crowd quickly gathered and the usual well meaning, but ill-informed
people were milling about offering advice on how to stop the bleeding. Very
quickly a man came along with a glass of spirits from the pub nearby. The
patient was quite unconscious, now I did remember during my training as a first
aider that nothing by mouth is allowed when a person is unconscious. I
explained to the chap with the grog that it might run into the patient’s lungs
and kill him, so why not drink it yourself, which he promptly did. I also knew
of two important things to attend to in cases like this, that is the breathing
and the bleeding. I undid both belt and necktie, then very carefully drew the
jagged edges of the wound together, put on a Borax pad and cotton wool and
bandage. Later a policeman arrived with a hand propelled two-sheeted stretcher
and I then helped to push my first patient to hospital through the snow. I
learned later that this cabman with a fractured skull recovered. That’s what I
call drunks luck! |
GEORGE SYDNEY PUTLAND #1 |
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I enlisted in the Royal Army Medical Corp (R.A.M.C) in 1900 and after a short period in Cambridge hospital in Aldershot (In Hampshire) I was on my way to the Boar War in Africa. During the voyage to the Cape I volunteered to be a human guinea pig in order to combat Enteric Fever. During the Boar war more men were lost with Enteric fever and dysentery than were killed by gunshot wounds. The theory of inoculation against Enteric fever was really then quite a new idea and was attended with a certain risk. Major Birt our R.A.M.C Doctor, gave me an injection of this antitoxin, followed by another one a week later. The doctors told me that in a few hours I would become a fever patient and would feel pretty sick and I could have a real bed in the sick bay of the ship. I actually enjoyed being unwell in a cabin, quite a pleasant change from the smelly below decks hammock that were slung like sardines over our mess tables. I was up in temperature that night with my head throbbing in rhyme to the engines of our good ship “Roslin Castle”. When I returned to my normal conditions some days later the doctor said that he hoped when I got enteric fever, and he assured me that I would get it in the course of my ward duties, that it would be a mild attack. He was perfectly correct. In Africa a few
months later I went down with the fever and had the usual starvation diet of
tinned milk, I sucked on a thermometer many times a day for three weeks.
However, I made an excellent recovery, no complications. I regret to say that many
soldiers’ patients died as a result of eating hard foods like rice cakes. We
called them “wads”. Food like these were secretly slipped under the tent flaps
at night by their comrades who really thought the patients were starving. The
results were terrible, the thin walls of the diseased intestine were perforated
by the food, the victims dying of peritonitis. I have heard many men cry for
food when to give hard food may mean their death. Enteric fever is called in our
temperate climate “Typhoid Fever” and is caused by a microbe invading the
intestine by the agency of impure water and filthy flies settling on our food.
Now, of course, antitoxin preventative medicine is perfectly safe and
standardised and beyond all reasonable doubt as to its effectiveness. This
applies also to Diphtheria Immunisation, particularly for children. Who can say,
Tuberculosis, with all its sorrows may not be entirely prevented from gaining a
hold on our people by means of early diagnosis, by the new anti-toxin, combined
with mass community x-ray work? It has been said authoritatively that this
dreaded disease can be entirely eradicated in twenty years if the general
community will co-operate. Its good to know that the public are becoming more medically
minded than ever before. After three years in
South Africa, I returned to London and entered a London Hospital for further
training, then having my certificate as “Masseur” I was accepted as a member of
the Male Nurses Association. This means, of course, that our members do private
work, and we have many interesting patients. I would like to tell you of one,
who was comptroller of the King’s household, A Kings Equerry. This nobleman, a
knight with many honours, was elderly and a chronic heart case. One of those
British gentlemen who never give in, but will insist in their duties to the
last. I remember the last day I attended to him. After I completed the general
massage under medical direction, I would like to mention here that hospital
trained Masseurs only work under medical direction. I noticed how utterly tired
he looked and I suggested that he rest for a few hours. “Oh no!” he said “I cannot
do that; I am attending His Majesty at a Gala Convent Garden Opera House and
the Japanese Count Fushimi is his guest of honour”. Then he rang for his valet
and all the glittering orders, and court dress were arranged for him to attend
this brilliant court affair. It was to be tragic, he dropped dead in the
presence of his majesty that evening. Faithful to his King to the last. BRAZIL ASSIGNMENT The Male Nurses
Association of London sends nurses all over the world. I was sent with three
others to establish the nursing side of a hospital in Brazil, 2,000 miles up
the Amazon River on the Bolivian border. On my first trip to Brazil,
I had as a fellow passenger, Mr. Babington Mitchell, the British Consul at
Iquitos, Peru. He was returning from leave in company with his two charming
daughters of about my own age. I was offered a minor post as Consular Agent in
Porto Velho, I declined it. When travelling down the Rio Madeira we had a
rather exciting time, it was full spate water season, the current in the centre
was about seven miles an hour. The river had lifted huge cedar logs off the
sand banks. At one time there were about twenty trees of perhaps 60 to 80 feet
long floating along very high out of the waters. So, our Pilot was very busy in
dodging and passing these monster trees. The pilots always have apprentices
learning their stuff aboard. One of these chumps was leaning around the capstan
up forwards, and put his foot on something, it was the anchor release gear. Our
speed plus the current and the anchor dragging in the mud caused us to turn
around half circle, logs coming at us, logs being fended off, in danger of
smashing propellers. We did not sink, but the decks went over to an alarming
angle. We look on a large amount of water. I am quite sure that the apprentice
knew for evermore that his parents never married. |
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TRAIN SOUTH BOUND FROM PORTO VELHO, #2 |
On my first trip up
the Madeira, I shot and shot; I don’t know how many alligators. But one is only
wasting money on these slimy creatures, they just don’t move, lying in mud,
dozing in the sun. Anyway, that is not good sport and puts a label on one as a
new chum just out from home. Eventually I was
acquainted with the dense, virgin jungle at a place now called Porto Velho. We
go ashore amongst the jumble of machinery, boxes, crates, everything and
anything piled up near the waters edge. Clearers are busy
cutting with machetes the undergrowth. Tree fallers are going like mad pushing
back the virgin jungle. Engineers, surveyors all doing their allotted task. All
appears at first to be great confusion yet the orderliness emerges from this
apparent chaos. We four male nurses were told the hospital is to be called
Candelaria, a mile out up the line. Off we walked the mile. What a sight we
looked too, our clothes were quite unsuitable for this stinking track. We had
one concession to the tropics, each of us wore white helmets with dungarees on
and were greeted by the lusty Americans with “Well, I’ll go to hell if these
ain’t lion tamers”. “Hoof it limey’s, jest a mile”. |
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We arrived at the
site of Candelaria Hospital to find that a bough shed had been erected as our
temporary docile. A score of poles supported the palm leaf roof, each side had
palm fronds stuck between the upright poles, an opening at each end served as a
door and gave some light inside. We slung hammocks each taking a corner space.
Our luggage was dumped nearby. Our first day was really exciting, so novel,
much different from Portland Place or St. Luke’s Hospital. Dr. Lovelace of El
Paso, Texas, greeted us with smiles. “Well boys, we did the canal zone job
alright”. “Now tell me about yourselves, who is best on surgical work and who likes
medical work?” “Who has lived in a hot climate?” After a long talk Dr. Lovelace
said “O.K. boys, now listen to me, I want to tell you about this job.” We
learned very much that day. He explained that some years ago a Col. Church had
tried to do and failed at what we were going to do. “Now boys let’s stick
around and do this doggoned job and let’s go through on the rails to Bolivia,
211 miles upstream.” “What do you say?” “If you want anything, raise hell until
you get it.” |
THESE ARE THE HOUSES THE NATIVE BUILT FOR US TO LIVE IN WHEN WE FIRST GOT HERE. |
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So, I was selected in
charge of the surgical ward, when it will be built. Two of my comrades were assigned to the
medical wards, the other chap was assigned to travelling in the hospital car
attached to the train. There were many poor devils who had malaria or beri-beri
and some with blackwater fever lying around everywhere for shade. So, we got to
work pronto, doing our best with what we had. The stores were brought from our
ship to Porto Velho, medical supplies first priority. Then the building
materials to construct the long wards. Hundreds of men worked and swore and
sweated. Our hospital was in the making, pushing the jungle back to make way
for yet another shed, barracks for the labourers, not forgetting a quiet place
for quiet people - the morgue. Flies, flying beetles
and piums, a tiny fly that bites, we thought injections of cayenne pepper went
in every sting. By day we were tortured by everything that bites, burns and
stings. By night the hell of mosquitoes droning around our 6 X 3 mosquito nets.
We knew full well from our study of Sir Patrick Mawson’s book on tropical
diseases that the female mosquito that flies by night is the carrier of the
malarial parasite. Kipling was right when he wrote “The female of the species
is deadlier than the male”. The deadly human females were to come later!
“Hurry, hurry, get a move on you black son of a bitch!” All the confusion at
long last came to an end. |
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SURGICAL WARD |
A ward is ready, each
bed has a mosquito net rolled up by day, down and tucked into the mattress at
night. One great difficulty was to make our patients keep the net down at
night. As soon as we left the ward the nets would be cast aside, cries of “calor, mucha calor!” (“hot, very hot!). It took years to train the
residents of the district the virtues of trying to avoid being bitten at night.
Our living quarters were wrecked by a fierce tropical storm, the palm roof just
flew away, the walls made of palm leaves just bellowed out, pulling up the
supporting uprights, deep oozing mud everywhere. We decided that two of us
should sleep in the ward with the patients until a bungalow was built for us.
Our other two comrades found shelter in a storehouse. So “raise hell until you
get it” was remembered. A
Jamaican Negro carpenter quickly selected a corner of the ward, canvas was
nailed around us, a flap for a door, two beds pushed in for Mac and I. We told
the watchman to call us if required. At times during the night, we both got up
to give hypodermic injections or a shot of morphia or strychnine as occasion
demanded. We had no knowledge of Spanish or Portuguese languages so we had to
work on our patients as a veterinary surgeon does – to observe, to touch, to
smell, and what smells there were. As time went on, we gradually acquired a
working knowledge of the Brazilian Portuguese tongue. So, in time with a little
pantomime thrown in we eventually managed to understand and be understood. |
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GEORGE PUTLAND AT WORK |
SECOND STAGE OPERATING ROOM |
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The
orderlies that we were given to train had never before worked in a hospital.
They had very little idea of even decent cleanliness, or decency at all. One
orderly was fully instructed in the methods of boiling surgical instruments and
to keep them sterile until the surgeon had a sterile field of towels, etc. All
we had at this early stage of our surgical work in which to boil instruments
was a very large fish kettle. This kettle had a loose tray with side handles,
so the load of sterile instruments could be lifted out with sterile gloved
hands to the sterile field. The orderly said he understood the method quite
well. We warned him not to move the lid, to bring the kettle over from the
cookhouse after it had been heating for half an hour. We then prepared our
first patient for a major operation. All was ready except for the instruments. A long
table of wood was with smaller tables and a bench arranged around. A kerosene
box was put near the head of the table for the chap who had got the patient
under, no reflexes. We sent the orderly to the cookhouse, fifty yards away to
get the kettle. We were all very busy scrubbing and sterilizing our hands.
Gowns on, gloves well tucked into our sleeves, caps on and our muslin masks
securely tied at the base of our necks. The orderly arrived with the steaming
kettle. Then he lifted the lid, put his hand in, grasped the side hook, lifted
the instruments out on the tray and promptly dropped the lot on the floor of
this shed, breaking the hypodermics at the same time. So, we allowed our
patient to come to for a time until we finally had our instruments cleaned and
re-sterilized. It is
indeed very difficult to explain the real meaning of aseptic surgery to a
person who is not even clean in the ordinary way. However, we kept on telling
them not to touch this or that because “it is sterile”. At times during our
operations, one might drop on the floor a pair of artery forceps or another
small surgical instrument. Quick as light it would be picked up and thrown on
the sterile field of instruments. It meant of course, that all the field was
now dirty, non-sterile and had to be removed. A wait then, until clean
instruments were available. The orderly would say “But I did wash my hands
today, how come dirty?” So, we
improvised whenever a lack of equipment was available. One
patient, a fractured thigh case came in one night. By hurricane lanterns
faintly glowing we operated upon him, no proper extension apparatus on hand to
pull the bones apart, or preventing them from overlapping. No proper fracture
bed, so our carpenter was called up to make a make shift fracture bed with
hinges near the centre. Four-inch sticking plaster was attached below the
fracture with a long loop near the sole of the foot, a four-inch square piece
of flooring board inserted in the loop. The small piece of wood had a hole
drilled in its centre. Through this hole we inserted a half inch rope with a
knot on the inner side. The rope was carried over an empty cotton reel to serve
as a pulley, a metal catheter was pushed through the centre of the reel
attached to it a sack of five pounds in weight to be gradually increased as
required. It worked very well and the patient made a good recovery after some
weeks. It was a perfect bone union, no bone overlapping. He later became one of
my best orderlies. He was very observant during these weeks of getting a
‘beds-eye view’. |
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Now the
wards are partly finished and the patients are pouring in. In this
hospital we accepted as patients all manner of people mostly employed on the
Madeira-Mamore Railway that would connect Brazil with Bolivia. More supplies of
medical equipment and building material arrive with each boat. Everything is
being rushed to complete the buildings before the rain really sets in. The
hooter at Porto Velho goes at 6am, by 7am all the workers are at their varied
tasks. At 11am until 2pm the workers have a siesta then back to their jobs
until 6pm. We enjoy our siesta at midday. But it often happens that an
emergency call will claim our attention at any time during the night. We do not enjoy this
night work but with a very limited number of surgeons on hand it must be done
to save lives by an urgent operation. Night operations are extremely difficult
and dangerous. The flickering hurricane lanterns held by untrained men near the
sterile field of operations. There was a danger of ether exploding if a naked
light is too near. How we prayed for the electricians to get a move on. We saw
our operating theatre being constructed adjacent to this end of the surgical
ward, which was later used for septic surgical cases, reserving the operating
theatre for clean cases wherever possible. So, we labored day and night until we
had real wards, well equipped with the best available materials. We had to explain a
thousand times to the men we hoped to train for our orderly staff how this and
that should be done. So many clinical thermometers were broken by the rough
handling they received. I explained that the bulb of these thermometers must be
inserted in the armpit after wiping off the sweat, not the other end of the
thermometer. They were never to place the thermometer under the tongue of a
patient whose jaws were chattering with fever. Some patients broke them by
involuntarily biting on them during a paroxysm of fever. It was indeed a
tiring, nerve racking task to train these Brazilians to correctly take and
record on paper, the temperature, pulse and respiration of the patients. We
simplified this job by numbering each bed, also by numbering a large sheet of
paper, so our orderlies gradually acquired a reasonable skill in this important
duty. With the serious cases we either made the record ourselves, or checked
the case ourselves to ensure accuracy for the charts. |
WATER TANK MADE OF WOOD, |
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PORTION OF OFFICERS WARD, CANDELARIA HOSPITAL #8 |
PORTION OF SURGICAL WARD. |
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SURGICAL WARD, CANDELARIA HOSPITAL, WITH OPERATING THEATRE AT THE REAR. |
MEDICAL WARD |
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We were very
fortunate to have doctors on our medical staff who had experience from the
Panama Canal job. Therefore, each patient on being admitted, was promptly
examined by a doctor and samples of the patient’s saliva, blood, stools and
urine were examined very carefully by microscope or chemical means. This is
most important work in the tropics. A patient with say, tropical ulcers, may be
found to also be suffering from an attack of hookworm disease, or malaria, or the
early stages of yellow fever. Hookworm disease is
very common in hot climates. It would appear that the natives defecate anywhere
at all. The tiny parasites passed in the stools are scattered around and then
other natives in bare feet treading around absorb the parasites through the
soles of their feet until the parasites develop in the blood stream. Ultimately,
they attach themselves to the inside lining of the small intestine by hooks and
thereby live on one’s own system. Some are passed out again in stools and so
the process is repeated. The compulsory use of latrines was strictly enforced
in all our construction camps, or settlements on our Madeira-Mamore Railway
line. In spite of all these precautions of tropical sanitation, so many natives
would not take advantage of the facilities available.
GENERAL VIEW OF PORT VELHO. THE BASE OF OPERATIONS #13 |
GEORGE PUTLAND IN DENTAL DEPARTMENT #12 |
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YELLOW FEVER WARD #14 |
The swamps around us
were filled in, low lying places were sprayed with oil. It is a crime for
anyone to throw out an empty tin or anything that could hold water. The malaria
mosquito will at once deposit its eggs on stagnant waters. Everyone is supplied
with quinine, ten grains daily as a prophylactic. Then, when one does get
malaria, quinine in massive doses is given, ten grains thrice daily by mouth,
the more serious cases by hypodermic injections. The engineer surveyors are now up the line a dozen miles away trying to find a secure place to lay the rails. The rails have now reached San Antonio, a few miles from Porto Velho. At this place a bar of granite was right in the line for the rails. This was a gigantic task for the rail layers, a cutting of twenty feet deep was essential, so blasting operations were required. At long last the cutting was completed but with only about one feet clearance for the big Baldwin engine to pass through. |
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The first train load of heavy materials to go
through was a disastrous affair. The ‘all clear’ was given and off the engine
went to enter the cutting. Halfway through it the engine swayed over and the
sides of its boiler were torn out by touching the granite side walls of the
cutting. On the engine was a white man driver and West Indian Negro as a
fireman. The latter jumped and was severely injured. The driver was enveloped
in steam and collapsed on the spot. After much difficulty this unfortunate
American was brought into my ward. Hypos of morphine were given at once. We
then put him into a medicated bath, to keep him from regaining consciousness.
He was quite a helpless case. More than half his skin area was scalded from the
body. He passed away after a few hours of pain free last sleep. |
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ROCK CUT AT SAN ANTONIA #15 |
GRANITE CUTTING AT SAN ANTONIA #16 |
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A few weeks later
another driver was to pay for daring to build the line. His train was
travelling heavily laden with steel rails, sleepers and supplies for camp
number 1. This camp was located near a small tributary of the Rio Madeira and
the surrounds were a quagmire of reeking stinking ooze, that was being filled
in by hand power. No train could be supported on this patch. At last it was
considered safe for a train to get the supplies badly needed for the tract now
being cleared ahead. The engine of the train had lurched over to one side, then
quickly turned upside down into the ooze. The funnel went right out of sight in
the mud. The unfortunate driver was held down under the cab of the engine with
the steel armrest on the engine |
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1910 WE CUT THIS TENNIS COURT OUT OF THE JUNGLE. #17 |
BOATMEN WASHING CLOTHES IN TRIBUTARY OF RIO MADERIA #18
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The local savage
Indians, the Caripuna, were reputed cannibals, their teeth ground or filed to
points, through the septum of their nose a small bunch of highly coloured macaw
feathers. Through the lobe of their ears was a wild pig’s tusk. Around the
waist a thin twisted cord of a parasite vine of the jungle. Their hair was
shoulder length, blue black in colour, the fringe just about level with the
eyelids. They were short in statue, average height about five feet three
inches. They had a broad chest and muscular arms and shoulder but poor leg
muscles. Bows and arrows were carried, these strange men are short and stocky
in build, very well fed by their physique, their mode of transport by canoe,
made from a board of about 50ft long.
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CARIPUNI BARK CANOE. |
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CARIPUNI ON PLEASENT STREAM. |
WE HAVE NOW MADE FRIENDS WITH THE CARIPUNIS, EVEN TO WEARING TROUSERS. OUR CANADIAN BIRCH CANOE ON THE LEFT. |
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THOUSANDS OF TONS OF BALLAST WAS USED #22 |
The Madeira-Mamore
Railway is now going ahead well. The forward group of Surveyors and Engineers
are having problems locating a suitable route for the laying of sleepers and
rails. Miles and miles of country is flooded now and the rains have set in.
Sometimes the proposed route is four feet under water, this means that
thousands of tons of ballast must be dumped in to raise the railway to the
level survey. A temporary wooden structure was built across the swamps, then an
engine and a number of trucks laden with ballast is carefully and dangerously
driven over. The engine is detached from its many trucks and a strong steel
cable is attached to a huge plough at the far end of the trucks. The sides of
each truck are hinged at the top. The pins holding at the plough goes forward
pushing tons and tons of ballast over on each side of the track. So the work
goes on until it is considered safe for heavy traffic. At times hundreds of
yards of sleepers and rails and thousands of tons of ballast are swept away in
one night of torrential tropical rains. This may mean the whole business has to
be done over again leaving a span or two open to carry away the torrents of
water. Sometimes this is not suitable, then a steel bridge structure is
constructed.
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FILLING UP WITH BALLAST A BRIDGE |
LAND SLIDE NEAR PORTO VELHIO. #24 |
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BRIDGE IN THE MAKING OVER THE PARANA RIVER #25 |
Not alone are there
the usual dangers and hazards of construction work but the snakes, electric
eels and piranhas with their razor-sharp teeth that attack without warning. The
incessant flies, mosquitoes, flying beetles – all these are a constant torment.
But now as our line digs deeper in Matta Grossa, we find a new peril. Crossed
bamboos have been noticed ahead of the line, right ahead of where we want to
build the line. The local Cabocle natives tell us that they are Caripuna Indian
signs meaning “Stop! Go no further!”. From time to time a few arrows have been
flung at the surveyors and laborers who were engaged in cutting a sight line
with machetes up forward in the very dense jungle. No Indians were seen, but
all the time the Caripuni must have been watching our movements, perhaps from
high up in the trees. The jungle in this
region is so dense with undergrowth, that a man could not be seen a few yards
away. A small party of labourers working with machetes failed to return from
work one evening. A search party was quickly arranged and with hurricane
lanterns and many men armed with Winchesters and Colts revolvers walked along
the newly cut path, blazing away bullets in the air, to give warning to any
aggressors and to give courage to the missing four men. Nothing was ever seen
of them again. Caripunis? There were grave doubts about our ability to cope with this new problem of jungle Indians. Life was hard enough to bear with all our disabilities of fever, living in swampy places. The ever-present jungle was just a few yards on either side of our new made track. The noise of our engine and trucks crashing along, the tumult of men’s voices, of working tools. All these unusual sounds probably frightened the Caripuni from approaching our many different camps. But the danger of forging ahead into this Green Hell was felt by all. However, by the merest chance we were enabled to make a friendly contact with this ferocious tribe of cannibals which undoubtedly was the key to completing the railway to Bolivia. |
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THE SLEEPERS WERE CUT IN SOUTH-WEST WESTERN AUSTRALIA #26 |
BUILDING THE RAILWAY THROUGH LAND LIKE THIS # 27 |
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It happened like
this; one day a party of surveyors were well up forward at their perilous task,
plotting the route, when they saw an emaciated Caripuni Indian lying under a
tree. He was semi-conscious and at the point of death. They immediately made
contact with the nearest camp where a doctor and a small staff of medical
orderlies were living. The doctor attended to this Indian and diagnosed the
case as snakebite on one leg and the other leg was crushed from a falling tree.
The feet were in a gangrened, smashed condition that required amputation above
the ankle, if the patient survived the hospital car journey to Candelaria
Hospital. All the Indian could say on recovering consciousness was “Pe-te”, so
he was entered as a patient in our surgical ward as “Caripuni Pete”. He was
given sedatives by hypodermic needle and prepared for a major operation. He was
duly operated on. The foot was removed and left him with about five inches of
bone below the knee. It was my job to attend to changing the
dressings. I felt very keen on making friends with him, but found it indeed a
difficult task. To get him to take food voluntarily by mouth was our chief
worry. He was in very poor shape for survival. To make him take food
voluntarily by mouth was our aim. But how! Well, I bought him a bowl of custard
and a spoon. He had a look of surprise on his face as he felt the spoon and
closely examined the bowl. But he would not eat the custard so I prepared for a
battle of wits. I got two spoons and with some pantomime show, I tried to
encourage him to eat with me. He changed spoons with me several times and then
put some custard into my mouth. Then I did a pantomime act to assure him it
would make me strong and able to use a bow with arrows. After some time he
would take food by mouth but I had to take some with him. Sometimes, he would
change spoons with me or slop custard with the same spoon. His physical
condition was very low so we amputated his other foot at the ankle. The
dressings we aseptically applied daily were at night torn off by our wild
patient. He even tried to pull out with his fingers the sutures holding his
flesh together. The wounds would not heal under these conditions and they were
thus re-infected. It was necessary at a later stage to operate again by further
amputation leaving six inches of thighbone. |
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During the time Pete
was in the surgical ward each night, when the workings of the railway
construction staff were quiet, Pete would make peculiar noises, at times like a
bird and at other times like the guttural roar of a jaguar, or other creatures
of the jungle. Then he would stop and listen intently. After a while he would
again give voice with what sounded like the usual night sounds of the jungle.
This performance went on for many nights, until the riddle was solved. One
night our orderly ran from the ward to tell us that four Caripuni Indians had
very quietly entered the ward and removed all of the Aseptic dressings from
Pete’s stumps. They had covered the stumps with leaves and bound them up again
with liana’s, a rope like mass from the jungle. The Indians returned to the
jungle less than a hundred feet away when a look out man signaled our approach
to the ward. By this time several months had passed since our Pete was saved
from certain death in the jungle. He had acquired a few words of Portuguese and
assured us that his visitors were “Amigos, no bravos, Amigos!” |
GREAT WATER COBRA OF BRAZIL. #28 |
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MAKING FRIEND WITH CANNIBAL CARIPUNI PETE |
Later his stump
wounds closed very satisfactorily. I have since wondered why he made a complete
recovery following the visits of his jungle friends. Was it some herbal remedy
given by mouth? Could it have been that the mouldy leaves acted like
Penicillin? Did these Caripuni Indians know of the virtues of the curative
properties on Penicillin? Was it this modern cure gathered in the jungle that
assisted in his recovery? This incident occurred in 1907. It is interesting to
note that Penicillin wasn’t discovered until 1928, however it wasn’t widely
available for medical use until the mid 1940’s. What other cures for man’s
modern diseases were these savages aware of? The result of “Caripuna Pete’s” situation
was that we ultimately contacted his friends and had no further trouble from
arrows and the construction of the railway line was able to continue. We supplied Pete with
crutches and he very soon was a walking patient, he was contented with his life,
laughing at the simple things around him. Our gramophone at first frightened
him. He came near me and held my arm, pointing at the funnel that was making
the music. I reassured him “Amigo’s, Amigo’s”. Later he plucked up the courage
to go nearer, then he turned the gramophone upside down, breaking “Tosti’s
goodbye song”. How Pete laughed as his belly shook with joy, whilst the broken
fragments of the record were gathered up. |
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It was generously
decided to give Pete artificial legs, to be purchased kindly by the
Madeira-Mamore Railway Company. We measured him in various positions on the
concrete floor of our new operating theatre, and weighed him. A cable was sent
to our New York office with instructions to rush this order for Pete’s new
legs. They arrived safely, all complete with belt and shoulder straps for
adjustments. How proud he looked, in a khaki suit, brown shoes, a boater straw
hat and a walking cane. He looked like quite a Bond Street Johnny. We told him
that we intended to take him back to near where we found him up country. He
could contact his relations from nearby camp of maintenance railway staff. As a result of this contact,
we were to invite many Indians to our various camps along the line. Pete was
also anxious to show his jungle friends where his new legs came from. What
looks of surprise and wonder these Indians evinced! They laughed uproariously
when an American doctor pulled out his upper denture and quickly put it into
place again. We had won the battle! Pete assured us that the railway line would
go through to Bolivia and there would be no further problems with the
Caripuni’s. To our surprise Pete
would not return to his jungle home. He visited his relations up country for a
few days only, then he waited at a camp until the train came along. He walked
up to the hospital car and seated himself and told the medico aboard
“Hospital!” at the same time thumping his own chest. So he arrived at
Candelaria Hospital again, not a dying Indian this time, but a very bright-eyed
man, who for two years had been cared for by our hospital staff. So Caripuni
Pete was put on our pay roll. His job was filling capsules of gelatin with
Quinine, and very efficient his work was. Of course, he picked up bits of many
tongues, Portuguese, Spanish and a little Americanese. One special day I
remember was when high officials from Rio de Janeiro came to inspect our up to
date hospital, a few ladies were with them. One elegantly dressed lady took
Pete’s hand and said “Boa dias Pete”, the reply was rather unusual. Pete said
“How’s your Potato?”. |
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On the Candelaria
Station, we had our "Admission to hospital" room. Here the patients
were sorted out for surgical or medical wards or the outpatient’s department.
Stretches would convey the serious cases, the minor cases would walk. It was
customary for all patients admitted to hospital to leave at our office, their
valuables for safekeeping. A receipt being given in exchange. The address of
their next of kin or a friend was also taken. In the event of death, the
valuables would be forwarded, or on discharge the valuables would be reclaimed.
At times we had 300 patients in the hospital. Many patients would have a
considerable amount of cash in their leather belts worn next to their skin
under their clothing. In consequence we had in our office safe, a large amount
of money. During the day our office staff were always on hand with revolvers
handy. After daylight, one or two men would sleep in the building. Also, we had
a very trusty watchman, whose duty was to guard the office at night. He was
armed with a revolver. When one of our officers left the building at night for
any reason, he would tell our watchman, that he was going to our Hospital Staff
Bungalows to play cards or visit his friends. |
ANOTHER LANDSLIDE AND SMASHED MACHINERY #30 |
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LAST RESTING PLACE CANDELARIA HOSPITAL. #31 |
One dark night, Mac
who was in charge of the office safe, came up for the evening to our bungalow
for a yarn. Our station buildings had a very wide verandah on all four sides,
the watchman's hut nearby. At 10pm Mac said "goodnight" to all of us
and went down the well-known path to his office abode. As soon as he jumped on
the verandah a shot was fired at him. Mac was unarmed, so believing that
discretion was the best part of valor he ran like blazes around the verandah.
More shots followed him until his companion in the office switched on the
lights and came out with his gun, to see Mac being chased by our own good
watchman! Mac had forgotten to tell him that he had left the office. What a
good thing the watchman was a bad shot! Later my friend Louis
Radiz and I really did get true sport. We would have a native canoe to
ourselves and paddle, one on the bow, one on the stern, to a place a few miles
from Porto Velho we named alligator cove. It was a deep bay without much of a
current. This bay was about half a mile wide near the main stream and about as
far inland. Very dense jungle ashore and about one hundred yards of mud banks
free of vegetable growth. Near these mudbanks one could sight a hundred
alligators swimming about without making a ripple, eyes above water visible. We
kept very quiet and tried silently to paddle up close for a better look-see,
then a lashing tail would strike our canoe that had about four inches of
freeboard. We gave it up after a while as a damn fool trick. Heaven would have
to help us if we got overturned in those dangerous waters. The water and its
creatures had no fear of man. |
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THE fIRST OFFICIAL TRAIN TRIP INTO SWAMP JUNGLE #32 |
TURNTABLE AND MACHINE SHEDS AT PORTO VELHO #33
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Every endeavour has been made to accurately record the details however if you would like to provide additional images and/or newer information we are pleased to update the details on this site. Please use CONTACT at the top of this page to email us. We appreciate your involvement in recording the history of our area.
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References: Article: George Putland Images: George Putland Collection - Gerry Putland
Copyright : Gordon Freegard 2008-2022
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