A captain, one day seeing some of his men hit by incendiary bombs, felt the deepest kind of emotion. He threw his coat over one of his men and succeeded in smothering the fire. Of a sudden, he completely lost consciousness, only regaining contact with the outer world two days later, in the sanitary train. He did not know where he was, but thought himself a prisoner surrounded by Germans. The disorder of consciousness lasted three days, and the memory of what happened during those days never returned. In fact, the captain declared that he felt as if he had been dead during that time. His dreamlike state lasted for some time, and for several weeks he did not sleep without disturbing nightmares. It was always the same night attack, with the burned men and the anguish of feeling that his men were not about him and that he was alone in the skirmish. He later recovered entirely and made preparations to start for the front.
Re feelings “as if dead,” see remarks of Régis under [Case 293].
Emotions over battle scenes: Spontaneous hypnosis or SOMNAMBULISM lasting twenty-four days.
Case 364. (Milian, January, 1915.)
Upon recovery from a state of apparent hypnosis described below, the victim wrote, in part, as follows:
“After marching two days we reached a Breton village near Virtou. Next day we were in a battle that lasted from seven in the morning to eight in the evening. I was somewhat troubled by the first balls and bullets that whistled by, but felt I had to get used to them and we marched on, under our brave captain’s orders. Then we really got under fire. It was sad to see my comrades falling under the murderous bullets, and the captain was soon mortally wounded; but we had reinforcements and went on and chased the enemy from his positions. During the battle I kept thinking of my old mother and father and I felt that I should die without seeing them again. Little things about the family came to my mind. I saw my father’s roof, and his favorite garden seat, and I saw my mother weeping over her only son, her only ambition in old age. The return from the battle was very sad for me. Night began to fall on the frightful field. I saw on the bare earth the bodies of poor comrades whose joys and sorrows I had shared. There they were, cut down in all the strength of youth, leaving their parents in trouble, their widows in despair, and their poor orphans. I wanted to carry them off and I could not. We had to march over their glorious remains. I was able to give a word of encouragement to one of my comrades who now probably is no more. We then retired. Although I was very weary, I was unable to get any rest. My mind was occupied with the frightful things I had seen. I thought of the comrades over there and that no one could help them. I remember I drank coffee the next morning and talked with my relative. Then that is all. From that time I do not know what happened.”
The writer was an infantryman, 20, who had been employed in civil life in the Crédit Lyonnais, and was brought August 24, 1914, to the Saint Nicolas Hospital in a state of hypnosis.
Once placed in the standing position he kept balancing back and forth, with head motionless, eyes fixed and directed to the left side. He did not speak in reply to a request for his name or facts about his life, but as soon as the battle was talked of he began an expressive pantomime, speaking in a very low voice a few words interrupted by sighs. “What were you doing in the fight?” He extended his arms, described a half circle with his hand, as if to show the extent of the field, thrust his hands forward with a finger outstretched, saying, “Zi, zi,” as if to indicate whistling bullets; plunged forward with hands in front of his chest, as if holding a gun in charge bayonet position, saying “Prussians, Prussians,” and threw himself down in a kneeling posture, saying, “Trenches, trenches.” “Do you remember the battle?” “Belgium, Belgium. Germans pushed back,” making a sign as if chasing them. “Captain dead. Two hundred men dead.” With a suitable gesture he sighed, and tears ran down his face.