Shell-shock and other neuropsychiatric problems

by Elmer Ernest Southard

A soldier, 29, a helper in a wholesale house, came to a hospital by hospital train, uninjured, directly from the field, having become completely deranged under shell fire. He arrived at the clinic January 11, 1915, in deep emotion, anxiously excited, and looking tensely and suspiciously at the bystanders. He seemed to hear very badly and shouted his statements like a deaf person. Led to the sick section, he shouted out of the window, “Frenchmen!”; then he went willingly to the bath and was put to bed, unresisting. He lay in bed on his elbow, listening in the direction of the window or the wall, answering loud questions with a quick, yelling voice after a pause. He gave his name correctly. He seemed to think he was in the trenches and to see hallucinatory pictures of battle.

In the examining room he immediately sat down, back to the wall, taking the chair at the desk and leaning it against the wall. Asked why he did so, he said with a horrified expression, “The shells, they are coming over! Whew! they are shooting all the time.” He ducked, imitating the hissing and whistling of the shells. Asked if he had been struck, he said, “There are two dead and one’s head is off.” He declined to be told where he was, and when he was told that he was no longer in the enemy’s country, but in Württemberg, he said, “No, no; they don’t come so far. No, the Frenchmen don’t come so far.” He was very easily frightened and started at every touch as if wakened from a dream. Sometimes his whole body would tremble with anxiety. He would not allow his pulse to be taken, at first. He would suddenly shout, “That’s the Krupp now flying by. Now it has struck.” He cast his eyes along the ceiling as if to follow the course of the shell. Asked what he was doing, he said he was in the trench on the mountain.

He was able to tell about his family, his marriage in Berlin, and his child, and he could tell time by the clock. Then he would suddenly shout: “The shells, they are shooting everything; they are shooting like another earthquake.” Gaupp stepped up to him, in uniform, and asked if the patient knew him. He examined Gaupp suspiciously from top to toe, looked at the shoulder-straps, and then quickly cried loudly, “Physician.”

At another time he described the shell havoc with evidence of extreme anxiety. He would take food only when one broke off a piece and ate of it before him. He would not drink out of ordinary drinking-glasses but only out of his field cup, examining it carefully. He denied he was on patrol duty at Soupis. His comrade was merely asleep just now. A civilian physician in his long coat was termed by the patient “a baker” after careful examination. There seemed to be no pause in the man’s behavior, which looked absolutely genuine and dominated by strong emotion. He had the look of a man in immediate danger of death, exerting himself to escape shell fire.

This dream-like disorder of consciousness with war delirium persisted for a number of days. There was no marked motor excitement. He would remain for the most part quietly in bed, absorbed in his thoughts, watching and listening, sometimes looking about in astonishment but not getting his bearings. Gradually his emotions declined and he developed a certain confidence in the nurse. She was able to convince him that he might be in a hospital, although he objected that there were no wounded there. (He was in a mental section where there were no bandaged men.) All the while he was very hard of hearing and shouted loudly in speech. For twelve days he could not be convinced that he was in Germany. The fact that the Sister was speaking German was met promptly by the fact that in France the physicians and Sisters spoke German too.

An extraordinary change came over him January 27 (sixteen days after admission). He went into the garden, apparently deaf and shouting his answers, accompanied by Sister Margarethe, whom he always called “Sister Anna” and whom he thought came from Lichterfelde. While walking with the Sister, his condition suddenly disappeared. He began to hear; he spoke in a normal tone, in fact, rather low, and began to address the Sister by her right name, Margarethe. He was astonished at the snow in the garden, and asked the Sister whether she noticed that the artillery had just stopped firing. Gradually getting his bearings, he wondered whether he had been in the hospital since the day before. He certainly was not ill, he thought.

This normal state lasted for a half hour. The patient then relapsed into anxious semi-consciousness, becoming deaf again and shouting his words. During the next few days and weeks he had frequent changes of state like the above described. The changes to a normal state would take place spontaneously in the absence of apparent occasion, but the relapses into semi-consciousness took place when there was some outer irritation, especially some noise. Every fright would cause a relapse. Once a small cannon fired at a great distance off caused such a relapse; again, a sudden shouting at the patient.

During the clear state there was a complete amnesia for the period of illness. He did not want to believe that he had been in the hospital for weeks, declaring that he must have been in the trenches two days before.

Gradually the semi-conscious states decreased in length; the deafness and loud speech returned with the semi-consciousness. With the return of orientation, the man looked entirely normal, speaking in a low voice somewhat shyly. He was rather suspicious and could find his way about with difficulty. His memory broke off with the last days of December, 1914, at which time he was in the trenches under intense shell fire. His wife had received no word from him since December 26. Even at the beginning of February he grew anxiously tense when the word shell was mentioned.

February 4, Gaupp presented him in clinic as entirely clear. He mentioned that his relapses to semi-consciousness occurred on the occasion of a loud noise or word spoken. His face was contorted at Gaupp’s remark but there was no other change in him. The next day, however, he told the Sister that Gaupp had shouted out once to “get him away.” He said he had then heard artillery fire for a moment, but pulled himself together though he had almost gone off, and had a violent headache afterward.