War & Sanity

The British people, too busy to worry about personal troubles, have so few neuroses in World War II that psychiatrists have less work than they expected. Said Dr. Robert Dick Gillespie, psychiatric specialist of the R.A.F., as he arrived in Manhattan last week: "In the 30 years since I left elementary school I have never been more idle than when serving in the Royal Air Force." Dr. Gillespie, in the U.S. as speaker at the annual Salmon Memorial Lectures,* is giving scholarly talks from coast to coast on "Psycho-neuroses in Peace and War."

"Pivotal Values." Speaking with an occasional Scottish burr, Dr. Gillespie cited facts & figures to prove British sanity. Some of his data:

> A large hospital set aside for psychiatric cases of the R.A.F. stood empty for so long that it was finally turned over to general use. Besides strict recruiting examinations, said Dr. Gillespie, there is a good reason for the R.A.F.'s balance: flying is a highly technical job, brings out "professional pride," and a joy in accomplishing precise tasks.

> Guy's Hospital, a "social center" in one of London's worst bombed areas, reported no increase in psychiatric cases since the war; there were also very few cases of neuroses caused directly by war experiences. On the whole, said Dr. Gillespie, poor people bear up far better under strain than those in the upper income groups. Reason: they don't suffer from competition, don't worry about keeping up appearances when everything is gone.

> During bombardment of Coventry, many factories had to move to cold, damp, uncomfortable garages. Yet fewer employes stayed away from work than usual. In London department stores, during heavy bombardment, the absence rate was lower than before.

> "I have had difficulty collecting instances of bomb fright among children," said the doctor. Of 8,000 Bristol school children, only four per cent showed symptoms of terror after air raids. These children were between the ages of one and six, came mostly from broken homes, had been nervous before the raids. Most normal children play air-raid games, sometimes enjoy the excitement. What bothers children more than bombs is disrupted family life.

For all these encouraging facts, Dr. Gillespie had a ready explanation. The British are very busy with integrated, social activity, have little time to worry about personal troubles. The number of neuroses among women who were formerly idle has decreased sharply: the passion to win the war provides them with a new set of "pivotal values." The new communal life in shelters and safety stations keeps people from feeling alone and afraid.

There is less neurosis now than in World War I, said Dr. Gillespie, because this is a civilian war. The embattled citizens are free from military discipline, have no need for primitive escape mechanisms.

"Even the Stoutest Heart." In spite of this general record, Dr. Gillespie pointed out, war has inevitably brought forth some neuroses. Practically all this mental sickness, he stressed, occurred among people who were predisposed to it by constitution and heredity; they would have broken down sooner or later at any trying time in their life.

Of course, he added, "even the stoutest heart has its breaking point." A Scotsman who was shot down over the Channel swam around in the icy water for hours, amid a spray of machine-gun bullets. When fished out, he suffered from "nervous headache," which, said Dr. Gillespie, he certainly was entitled to. Another pilot crashed six times, then went berserk; any man who can face terror that often, said the doctor, sets a new high in sanity.

Best way to prevent mental breakdown after tragic experiences, said Dr. Gillespie, is to keep people occupied. In one survey of 119 persons in a bombed area, everyone seemed quite well after the raids; several weeks later, almost one-third of them came down with various kinds of hysteria. Said Dr. Gillespie: "It was only after [they] . . . had finished rearranging themselves and their affairs and had time to sit down and consider the situation that the symptoms appeared. It is disorganization rather than fright that is the causal factor here."

* Started in 1932, in honor of the late Dr. Thomas William Salmon of Columbia, great leader of the mental-hygiene movement. An invitation to deliver the Salmon lectures is generally considered the "Nobel Prize of Psychiatry."

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