The Myriad Challenges of Peace: Canadian Forces Medical Practitioners Since the Second World War
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BILL RAWLING The Myriad Challenges of Peace: Canadian Forces Medical Practitioners Since the Second World War 1 Numérisé par Digitized by Éditions et Services de dépôt, Publishing and Depository Services, Travaux publics et Services Public Works and Government Services gouvernementaux Canada - 2014 Canada - 2014 Numéro de catalogue / Catalogue Number: D61-15/2004E-PDF ISBN 978-0-660-20295-2 Publications du gouvernement du Canada / Government of Canada Publications publications.gc.ca The Myriad Challenges of Peace: Canadian Forces Medical Practitioners Since the Second World War Bill Rawlins The Myriad Challenges of Peace: Canadian Forces Medical Practitioners Since the Second World War ©Her Majesty the Queen in Right of Canada, represented by the Minister of Public Works and Government Services, 2004. Available through your local bookseller or by mail from Canadian Government Publishing Communication Canada Ottawa (Ontario) KIA 0S9 Telephone: (613) 941-5995 Orders only: 1-800-635-7943 (Canada and U.S.A.) Fax: (613) 954-5779 or 1-800-565-7757 (Canada and U.S.A.) Internet: http://publications.gc.ca Catalogue No.: D61-15/2004E ISBN 0-660-19171-7 Contents Author's Note 9 Prologue 13 Chapter One War's End 15 Chapter Iwo Korea 45 Chapter Three The Depths of the Cold War 85 Chapter Four Personnel Issues of the Early Cold War 125 Chapter Five Operations of the Cold War, Actual and Potential 155 Chapter Six Medical Research 197 Chapter Seven International Intervention 221 Chapter Eight The Later Cold War: Infrastructure, Health Care, and the Treatment of Casualties 245 Chapter Nine Preparing for War: Recruiting, Training, and the Field Hospital in the later Cold War 277 Chapter Ten After the Cold War 325 Epilogue 369 Appendix 373 Index 385 Author's Note There are almost as many approaches to history as there are historians, and the discipline certainly has its fair share of idiosyncratic, eccentric, and even bizarre practitioners. Even within the mainstream, one can easily find mutually exclusive, often conflicting philosophies. One group could be said to be made up of advocacy historians, who condemn the wrongs of the past so as to correct them in the present, usually through government apologies and fi nancial compensation packages; among military historians, several who focus on the Korean War fall within this group as they seek recognition for the veterans of that conflict. Others are revisionists who want to convince us that previous historians and chroniclers have got it wrong; the revisionists focus their attention on the heroes of the past in order to demonstrate that they were frauds—or merely human. A recent example of this approach is work on Billy Bishop, First World War Canadian air ace who, at least one analyst claims, did not score as many victories as were attributed to him and- worse—did not deserve the Victoria Cross he was awarded in 1917. Other historians are simply judgmental, pointing the finger of blame for past mistakes; generals and staff officers have often been their targets. This historian has consciously attempted to be neither advocate, pro- secutor, nor judge. To some, that might constitute intellectual cowardice, or worse, laziness, but in many ways an anthropological approach to history (attempting to study rather than judge) is more challenging than an attempt to criticize or applaud the actors that have played their varied roles on its stage. Understanding requires more effort than taking sides, for it forces the researcher to go beyond his or her world view and place people and events within their historical context. To take one example from the narrative that follows, for the Canadian armed services of the 1950s to fail to consider recruiting women as medical officers is something this author would condemn if that decision were taken today, but in considering the attitudes of the army, navy, and air force at that time, one has to take into account a social context where segregated gender roles were widely accepted. Similarly, we now live in an age where Canadian soldiers, sailors, and air personnel are expected 1 0 • The Myriad Challenges of Peace to accept, at least superficially, cultures that are not Judeo-Christian; but as recently as the 1970s medical practitioners openly criticized local healers—and entire religions—if they were perceived to be obstacles to improving health or saving lives. If people spoke out in this manner today, this writer would accuse them of narrow-mindedness—or worse—but one must understand that western medical practitioners, in previous decades' were raised according to western values and educated in western medicine. Anthropologists they were not, nor could they be given a health care worldoad that allowed little or no time for pursuits other than medical. If the above makes the author sound like an apologist for medical practitioners, that may well be the case. It is not unusual for historians who study a particular group of people • to gain a certain sympathy for that group. One is, after all, reading documents and interviewing indi- viduals who tell the story from their point of view. That this particular historian was trained in western methods of investigation, with its emphasis on evidence, only reinforces that bias. As the reader shall see in regards to Gulf War syndrome, for example, this writer has chosen to side with medical practitioners who insist they are dealing with a wide variety of illnesses with an equally wide variety of causes rather than with journalists and advocates who make emotionally compelling argu- ments that there is but one cause of so many people's suffering. Such an approach on the author's part may seem insensitive, but it may be legitimate nonetheless. Similarly, in discussing issues related to psychiatry and psychology, this writer will present the medical practitioner's view and not that of its opponents (except in this note). On occasion, admittedly rare, this author has heard fellow historians ridicule individuals who thought they might be suffering from, or were diagnosed with, post traumatic stress disorder. Such researchers do not, however, seem to have reached such a position after investigation and reflection, but are rather relying on old stereotypes of what kinds of injury or illness are acceptable in a soldier. Again, this narrator will side with those who can present evidence of the type ,that convinces medical practitioners rather than with those who rely on gut feelings—as strong as the latter may be. What follows, then, is a narrative of how health care was organized, practised, andesupported within Canada's fighting services from the first days of peace following the Second World War to the militai-y opera- tions of the end of the century. It will focus not only on what medical practitioners did, but on how they were recruited, trained, deployed, and supplied. The result is a very complex story, and the author owes a great dept of gratitude- to those who helped make sense of it: individuals Author's Note • 11 such as Professor Donald Avery of the University of Western Ontario, whose recommendations for major revisions improved the text substan- tially; Major Michel Deilgat, who picked up many of the author's sillier mistakes; Chief Warrant Officer Mike McBride, who added a needed element of humanity to the narrative; and Colonel Ken Scott and Dr Mark Zamorski, who helped the author corne to grips with some of the more difficult medical issues. Equally worthy of mention is Lisa Laframboise, who improved the manuscript's prose and made opaque sections clearer. Any errors or omissions are, of course, to be laid at the author's door, but if this tome is a useful one it is in no little way due to the efforts of others. BILL RAWLING Ottawa, 2003 Prologue Canada's largest military deployment in its history ended in 1945, over a million of its people having worn a uniform and some 42,000 being killed or dying of wounds or disease. And as had happened at the end of a previous world conflict, the cessation of fighting created an imme- diate demand—by those in uniform no less than their compatriots on the home front—for a return to a normal, peacetime way of life. Demobili- zation was the order of the day, and those who had supported the war effort through their knowledge of things medical were as anxious to get back to civilian ways as any of their comrades-in-arms. True, lessons had been learned from the carnage, many of them extensions of knowledge gathered in the First World War, such as the benefits of quick and adequate replacement of blood and fluid loss after wounding, and of the necessity to debride, that is to say cut away dead tissue, so those same wounds would heal properly. There had also been more recent develop- ments, such as the use of antibiotics, new anaesthetics, and inoculations, and recognition of the value of early ambulation in rehabilitating patients;' but not all of these lessons were easily applicable to civilian medicine, and it was to the latter—or to other non-military pursuits—that uni- formed medical practitioners wanted to return. In the course of the war, tens of thousands had served in the Royal Canadian Army Medical Corps (RCAMC) and in its sister organizations within the Royal Canadian Air Force and Royal Canadian Navy. The army's health system was the largest of the three, 34,786 having worn its uniform: 598 of these became battle casualties, and 107 died of their wounds. A fatality rate of three-tenths of one per cent meant less trauma than, say, in the infantry regiments or in Bomber Command, so the great majority of the RCAMC's members could look back on their service as in some way beneficial and worthwhile.