prompt:
Chapter: THE EMIGRATION DEPARTMENT

Some years ago I was present one night in the Board-room at Euston
Station and addressed a shipload of emigrants who were departing to
Canada under the auspices of the Salvation Army. I forget their exact
number, but I think it was not less than 500. What I do not forget,
however, is the sorrow that I felt at seeing so many men in the prime
of life leaving the shores of their country for ever, especially as
most of them were not married. This meant, amongst other things, that
an equal number of women who remained behind were deprived of the
possibility of obtaining a husband in a country in which the females
already outnumber the males by more than a million. I said as much in
the little speech I made on this occasion, and I think that some one
answered me with the pertinent remark that if there was no work at
home, it must be sought abroad.

[Illustration: INMATES OF A MEN'S INDUSTRIAL HOME.]

There lies the whole problem in a nutshell--men must live. As for the
aged and the incompetent and the sick and the unattached women, these
are left behind for the community to support, while young and active
men of energy move off to endow new lands with their capacities and
strength. The results of this movement, carried out upon a great
scale, can be seen in the remoter parts of Ireland, which, as the
visitor will observe, appear to be largely populated by very young
children and by persons getting on in years. Whether or no this is a
satisfactory state of affairs is not for me to say, although the
matter, too large to discuss here, is one upon which I may have my own
opinion.

Colonel Lamb, the head of the Salvation Army Emigration Department,
informed me that during the past seven years the Army has emigrated
about 50,000 souls, of whom 10,000 were assisted out of its funds, the
rest paying their own way or being paid for from one source or
another. From 8,000 to 10,000 people have been sent during the present
year, 1910, most of them to Canada, which is the Mecca of the
Salvation Army Emigration policy. So carefully have all these people
been selected, that not 1 per cent have ever been returned to this
country by the Canadian Authorities as undesirable. The truth is that
those Authorities have the greatest confidence in the discretion of
the Army, and in its ability to handle this matter to the advantage of
all concerned.

That this is true I know from personal experience, since when, some
years ago, I was a Commissioner from the British Government and had
authority to formulate a scheme of Colonial land-settlement, the Prime
Minister of Canada, Sir Wilfrid Laurier, told me so himself in the
plainest language. Indeed, he did more, formally offering a huge block
of territory to be selected anywhere I might choose in the Dominion,
with the aid of its Officers, for the purposes of settlement by poor
folk and their children under the auspices of the Salvation Army.
Also, he added the promise of as much more land as might be required
in the future for the same purpose.[3]

Most unhappily, as I hold, that offer was not accepted by the British
Government. If this had been done, by now hundreds of English families
would have been transferred from conditions of want at home in the
English towns, into those of peace and plenty upon the land abroad.
Moreover, the recent rise in the value of Canadian land has been so
great that the scheme would not have cost the British taxpayer a
halfpenny, or so I most firmly believe.

Unfortunately, however, my scheme was too novel in its character to
appeal to the official mind, especially as its working would have
involved a loan repayable by instalments, the administration of which
must have been entrusted to the Salvation Army or to other charitable
Organizations. So this priceless opportunity was lost, probably for
ever, as the new and stricter emigration regulations adopted by
Canada, as I understand, would make it extremely difficult to emigrate
the class I hoped to help, namely, indigent people of good character,
resident in English cities, with growing families of children.

Young men, especially if they have been bred on the land, and young
marriageable women are eagerly desired in the Colonies, including
Australia; but at families, as we have read in recent correspondence
in the newspapers, they look askance.

'Why do they not want families in Australia? I asked Colonel Lamb.

'Because the trouble of housing comes in. It is the same thing in
Canada, it is the same thing all through the Colonies. They do not
want too much trouble,' he answered.

These words define the position very accurately. 'Give us your best,'
say the Colonies. 'Give us your adult, healthy men and women whom you
have paid to rear and educate, but don't bother us with families of
children whom we have to house. Above all send us no damaged articles.
You are welcome to keep those at home.'

To my mind this attitude, natural as it may be, creates a serious
problem so far as Great Britain and Ireland are concerned, for the
question will arise, Can we afford to go on parting with the good and
retaining the less desirable?

On this subject I had a long argument with Colonel Lamb, and his
answer to the question was in the affirmative, although I must admit
that his reasons did not at all convince me. He seemed to believe that
we could send out 250,000 people, chosen people, per annum for the
next ten years without harm to ourselves. Well, it may be so, and, as
he added, 'we are in their (that is, the Colonies') hands, and have to
do what they choose to allow.'

Also his opinion was that 'the best thing possible for this country is
wholesale emigration,' of course of those whom the Colonies will
accept. He said, 'People here are dissatisfied with their present
condition and want a change. If we had money to assist them, there is
practically no limit to the number who want to go. There are tens of
thousands who would conform to the Canadian regulations. One of the
things we advise the man who has been forced out of the country is
that rather than come into the town he should go to the Colonies.'

On the matter of the complaints which have been made in Canada of the
emigrant from London, Colonel Lamb said, 'The Londoner, it is alleged,
is not wanted. The Canadian is full of self-assertiveness, and the
Cockney has some of that too; he does not hesitate to express his
views, and you have conflicting spirits at once. The Cockney will
arrive at the conclusion in about twenty-four hours that he could run
Canada better than it is now being run. The Scotchman will take a week
to arrive at the same conclusion, and holds his tongue about it. The
Cockney says what he thinks on the first day of arrival, and the
result is--fireworks. He and the Canadians do not agree to begin with;
but when they get over the first passage of arms they settle down
amicably. The Cockney is finally appreciated, and, being industrious
and amenable to law and order, if he has got a bit of humour he gets
on all right, but not at first.'

Colonel Lamb informed me that in Australia the Labour Party is afraid
of the Army because it believes 'we will send in people to bring down
wages.' Therefore, the Labour Party has sidetracked General Booth's
proposals. Now, however, it alleges that it is not opposed to
emigration, if not on too large a scale. 'They don't mind a few girls;
but they say the condition that must precede emigration is the
breaking up of the land.'

Colonel Lamb appeared to desire that an Emigration Board should be
appointed in England, with power and funds to deal with the
distribution of the population of the Empire and to systematize
emigration. To this Imperial Board, individuals or Societies, such as
the Salvation Army, should, he thought, be able to submit their
schemes, which schemes would receive assistance according to their
merits under such limitations as the Board might see fit to impose. To
such a Board he would even give power to carry out land-settlement
schemes in the British Isles.

This is a great proposal, but one wonders whence the money is to come.
Also how long will it be before the Labour Parties in the various
Colonies, including Canada, gain so much power that they will refuse
to accept emigrants at all, except young women, or agriculturalists
who bring capital with them?

But all these problems are for the future. Meanwhile it is evident
that the Salvation Army manages its emigration work with extraordinary
success and business skill. Those whom it sends from these shores for
their own benefit are invariably accepted, at any rate in Canada, and
provided with work on their arrival in the chosen Colony. That the
selection is sound and careful is shown, also, by the fact that the
Army recovers from those emigrants to whom it gives assistance a
considerable percentage of the sums advanced to enable them to start
life in a new land.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Owen comes to visit Sassoon, interrupting the lieutenant while he is reading a letter from H. G. Wells, the famous science-fiction author. Owen and Sassoon continue discussing poetry and Sassoon gives Owen one of his poems to publish in the Hydra. He tells Owen about how Dr. Rivers has been pushing him to envision the future in order to make him feel guilty about being at Craiglockhart. Sassoon admits to being intimidated by the psychologist, who has more education than he does. Owen shares that he imagines himself becoming a pig farmer after the war, but then feels embarrassed about his humble ambition in front of the aristocratic Sassoon. Owen nervously hands over a sheaf of his poems. He explains that his own psychologist believes that the war disconnects men from society and nature. In order to reconnect, Owen explains, the doctor encourages his patients to find jobs that involve working with the land and with each other. Sassoon helps Owen edit some of his poems line by line, patiently encouraging the younger man to spend more time honing his craft. Before Owen leaves, the lieutenant convinces him to publish the best of his own poems in the next edition of the Hydra


prompt:
Chapter: THE WOMEN'S SOCIAL WORK IN LONDON

At the commencement of my investigation of this branch of the
Salvation Army activities in England, I discussed its general aspects
with Mrs. Bramwell Booth, who has it in her charge. She pointed out to
me that this Women's Social Work is a much larger business than it was
believed to be even by those who had some acquaintance with the
Salvation Army, and that it deals with many matters of great
importance in their bearing on the complex problems of our
civilization.

Among them, to take some that she mentioned, which recur to my mind,
are the questions of illegitimacy and prostitution, of maternity homes
for poor girls who have fallen into trouble, of women thieves, of what
is known as the White Slave traffic, of female children who have been
exposed to awful treatment, of women who are drunkards or drug-takers,
of aged and destitute women, of intractable or vicious-minded girls,
and, lastly, of the training of young persons to enable them to deal
scientifically with all these evils, or under the name of Slum
Sisters, to wait upon the poor in their homes, and nurse them through
the trials of maternity.

How practical and efficient this training is, no one can know who has
not, like myself, visited and inquired into the various Institutions
and Refuges of the Army in different cities of the land. It is a
wonderful thing, as has happened to me again and again, to see some
quiet, middle-aged lady, often so shy that it is difficult to extract
from her the information required, ruling with the most perfect
success a number of young women, who, a few weeks or months before,
were the vilest of the vile, and what is stranger still, reforming as
she rules. These ladies exercise no severity; the punishment, which,
perhaps necessarily, is a leading feature in some of our Government
Institutions, is unknown to their system. I am told that no one is
ever struck, no one is imprisoned, no one is restricted in diet for
any offence. As an Officer said to me:--

'If we cannot manage a girl by love, we recognize that the case is
beyond us, and ask her to go away. This, however, very seldom
happens.'

As a matter of fact, that case which is beyond the regenerating powers
of the Army must be very bad indeed, at any rate where young people
are concerned. In the vast majority of instances a cure is effected,
and apparently a permanent cure. In every one of these Homes there is
a room reserved for the accommodation of those who have passed through
it and gone out into the world again, should they care to return there
in their holidays or other intervals of leisure. That room is always
in great demand, and I can imagine no more eloquent testimony to the
manner of the treatment of its occupants while they dwelt in these
Homes as 'cases.'

In truth, a study of the female Officers of the Salvation Army is
calculated to convert the observer not only to a belief in the right
of women to the suffrage, but also to that of their fitness to rule
among, or even over men. Only I never heard that any of these ladies
ever sought such privileges; moreover, few of the sex would care to
win them at the price of the training, self-denial, and stern
experience which it is their lot to undergo.

Mrs. Bramwell Booth pointed out to me that although the actual work of
the Army on these women's questions is 'more than just a little,' it
had, as it were, only touched their fringe. Yet even this 'fringe' has
many threads, seeing that over 44,000 of these women's cases have been
helped in one way or another since this branch of the home work began
about twenty years ago.

She added that scarcely a month goes by in which the Army does not
break out in a new direction, open a new Institution, or attempt to
attack a new problem; and this, be it remembered, not only in these
islands but over the face of half the earth. At present its sphere of
influence is limited by the lack of funds. Give it enough money, she
said, and there is little that it would not dare to try. Everywhere
the harvest is plentiful, and if the workers remain comparatively few,
it is because material means are lacking for their support. Given the
money and the workers would be found. Nor will they ask much for
maintenance or salary, enough to provide the necessary buildings, and
to keep body and soul together, that is all.[4]

What are these women doing? In London they run more than a score of
Homes and Agencies, including a Maternity Hospital, which I will
describe later, where hundreds of poor deceived girls are taken in
during their trouble. I believe it is almost the only one of the sort,
at any rate on the same scale, in that great city.

Also they manage various Homes for drunken women. It has always been
supposed to be a practical impossibility to effect a cure in such
cases, but the lady Officers of the Salvation Army succeed in turning
about 50 per cent of their patients into perfectly sober persons. At
least they remain sober for three years from the date of their
discharge, after which they are often followed no further.

Another of their objects is to find out the fathers of illegitimate
children, and persuade them to sign a form of agreement which has been
carefully drawn by Counsel, binding themselves to contribute towards
the cost of the maintenance of the child. Or failing this, should the
evidence be sufficient, they try to obtain affiliation orders against
such fathers in a Magistrates' Court. Here I may state that the amount
of affiliation money collected in England by the Army in 1909 was
L1,217, of which L208 was for new cases. Further, L671 was collected
and paid over for maintenance to deserted wives. Little or none of
this money would have been forthcoming but for its exertions.

Mrs. Bramwell Booth informed me that there exists a class of young
men, most of them in the employ of tradesfolk, who habitually amuse
themselves by getting servant girls into trouble, often under a
promise of marriage. Then, if the usual results follow, it is common
for these men to move away to another town, taking their references
with them and, sometimes under a new name, to repeat the process
there. She was of opinion that the age of consent ought to be raised
to eighteen at least, a course for which there is much to be said.
Also she thought, and this is more controversial, that when any young
girl has been seduced under promise of marriage, the seducer should be
liable to punishment under the criminal law. Of course, one of the
difficulties here would be to prove the promise of marriage beyond all
reasonable doubt.

Also to bring such matters within the cognizance of the criminal law
would be a new and, indeed, a dangerous departure not altogether easy
to justify, especially as old magistrates like myself, who have
considerable experience of such cases must know, it is not always the
man who is to blame. Personally, I incline to the view that if the age
of consent were raised, and the contribution exacted from the putative
father of an illegitimate child made proportionate to his means, and
not limited, as it is now, to a maximum of 5s. a week, the criminal
law might well be left out of the question. It must be remembered
further, as Mrs. Booth pointed out herself, that there is another
remedy, namely, that of a better home-training of girls who should be
prepared by their mothers or friends to face the dangers of the world,
a duty which these too often neglect. The result is that many young
women who feel lonely and desire to get married, overstep the limits
of prudence on receipt of a promise that thus they may attain their
end, with the result that generally they find themselves ruined and
deserted.

Mrs. Bramwell Booth said that the Army is doing its utmost to mitigate
the horrors of what is known as the White Slave traffic, both here and
in many other countries. With this object it has a Bill before
Parliament at the present time, of which one of the aims is to prevent
children from being sent out of this country to France under
circumstances that practically ensure their moral destruction. It
seems that the state of things in Paris in this connexion is, in her
own words, 'most abominable, too horrible for words.' Children are
procured from certain theatre dancing schools, and their birth
certificates sometimes falsified to make it appear that they are over
fourteen, although often they may be as young as twelve or even ten.
Then they are conveyed to vile places in Paris where their doom is
sure.

Let us hope that in due course this Bill will become law, for if girls
are protected up to sixteen in this country, surely they should not be
sent out of it in doubtful circumstances under that age.

Needless to say abominations of this nature are not unknown in London.
Thus a while ago the Army received a telegram from a German girl
asking, 'Can you help?' Two of its people went at once to the address
given, and, contriving to get into the house, discovered there a young
woman who, imagining that she had been engaged in Germany as a servant
in an English family, found herself in a London brothel. Fortunately,
being a girl of some character and resource, she held her own, and,
having heard of the Salvation Army in her own land, persuaded a
milkman to take the telegram that brought about her delivery from this
den of wickedness.

Unfortunately it proved impossible to discover the woman who had hired
her abroad, as the victim of the plot really knew nothing about that
procuress. This girl was restored to her home in Germany none the
worse for her terrific adventure, and a few weeks later refunded her
travelling expenses. But how many must there be who have never heard
of the Salvation Army, and can find no milkman to help them out of
their vile prisons, for such places are no less.

Another branch of the Army women's work is that of the rescue of
prostitutes from the streets, which is known as the 'Midnight Work.'
For the purpose of this endeavour it hires a flat in Great Titchfield
Street, of which, and of the mission that centres round it, I will
speak later in this book.

The Women's Social Work of the Salvation Army began in London, in the
year 1884, at the cottage of a woman-soldier of the Army who lived in
Whitechapel. This lady, who was interested in girls without character,
took some of them into her home. Eventually she left the place which
came into the hands of the Army, whereon Mrs. Bramwell Booth was sent
to take charge of the twelve inmates whom it would accommodate. The
seed that was thus sown in 1884 has now multiplied itself into
fifty-nine Homes and Agencies for women in Great Britain alone, to say
nothing of others abroad and in the Colonies. But this is only a
beginning.

'We look forward,' said Mrs. Bramwell Booth to me, 'to a great
increase of this side of our work at home. No year has passed without
the opening of a new Women's Home of some kind, and we hope that this
will continue. Thus I want to build a very big Maternity Hospital if I
can get the money. We have about L20,000 in hand for this purpose; but
the lesser of the two schemes before us will cost L35,000.'

Will not some rich and charitable person provide the L15,000 that are
lacking?

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Prior is finally allowed off the hospital grounds and he goes to visit Sarah. Once he explains why he did not show up for their last appointment, she softens and agrees to travel to the coast with him. As they are walking along the beach, Prior becomes enraged with the civilians who are able to live their lives without constant reminders of war. His experiences have alienated him from all of them, including Sarah. Prior is seized by the feeling that he is owed something and that Sarah is the one who "should pay". They continue walking and are caught in a sudden thunderstorm. Seeking shelter under a thick buckthorn bush, they press together. Billy feels his hostility towards Sarah wash away and they have sex as the storm continues to rage around them. As they return to town, the intimacy between them begins to grow. They arrive at a restaurant and Prior begins talking about the war, thus killing the romantic mood. He reveals that officers censor soldiers' letters but are themselves allowed to write uncensored letters, relying on their own sense of honor to limit what they include. Sarah is offended by the classism inherent in the system, arguing that honor is not limited to officers. Prior is satisfied with the sullen mood; he thinks to himself that it will dissuade Sarah from the belief that their tryst on the beach meant anything


prompt:
Chapter: THE HEADQUARTERS OF THE WOMEN'S SOCIAL WORK, LOWER CLAPTON ROAD

The Women's Social Headquarters of the Salvation Army in England is
situated at Clapton. It is a property of nearly three acres, on which
stand four houses that will be rebuilt whenever funds are forthcoming
for the erection of the Maternity Hospital and Training Institution
for nurses and midwives which I have already mentioned. At present
about forty Officers are employed here, most of whom are women, under
the command of Commissioner Cox, one of the foremost of the 600
women-Officers of the Salvation Army in the United Kingdom who give
their services to the women's social work.

It is almost needless for me to add that Commissioner Cox is a lady of
very great ability, who is entirely devoted to the cause to which she
has dedicated her life. One of the reasons of the great success of the
Salvation Army is that only able people exactly suited to the
particular work in view are put in authority over that work. Here
there are no sinecures, no bought advowsons, and no freehold livings.
Moreover, the policy of the Army, as a general rule, is not to allow
any one to remain too long in any one office, lest he or she should
become fossilized or subject to local influences.

I remember when I was in America hearing of a case in which a very
leading Officer of the Army, who chanced to be a near relative of
General Booth, declined to obey an order to change his command for
another in a totally different part of the world. The order was
repeated once or twice, and as often disobeyed. Resignation followed
and an attempt to found a rival Organization. I only mention this
matter to show that discipline is enforced in this Society without
fear, favour, or prejudice, which is, perhaps, a principal reason of
its efficiency.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Burns is nervous to face the medical review board, despite Dr. Rivers's assurances that he is recommending an unconditional discharge. During his appointment with Dr. Rivers, Prior admits that he had an asthma attack when he was on the trolley with Sarah because people around them were smoking heavily. Dr. Rivers informs Billy that he will request a specialist to come and inspect his lungs. Billy tries to refuse, explaining that he wants to return to the front; it is the only place where he feels like he belongs. Moreover, he views his breakdown as a weakness that can only be conquered by returning to combat. Prior further explains that the public will scrutinize his conduct in the war after it is over; only those who served honorably will be able to enter politics. Dr. Rivers encourages Billy Prior's ambition, internally reflecting that the war will result in the kind of social upheaval that enables talented working-class men to climb the social ladder. Later that morning, Dr. Rivers is interrupted by a nurse announcing that Anderson is having an episode. Rivers rushes to Anderson's room to find him curled up on the floor, having soiled himself. Apparently, Anderson's roommate nicked himself while shaving and the small trickle of blood triggered Anderson's panicked reaction. After gently comforting him, Dr. Rivers advises his patient to seriously consider a career other than medicine once he returns to civilian life. Dr. Rivers notes that Anderson's wife has still not come to visit him. Willard, who is sharing the sick bay with Prior, complains about his new roommate and insinuates that Prior might be gay. Dr. Rivers dismisses the complaint, telling Willard that if anyone should be forced to leave the sick bay, it should be him, as he is not physically ill. Afterwards, Dr. Rivers attends a battery of meetings with patients and hospital administrators, all of them presenting various complaints. Later, Broadbent's mother appears to inquire about her son. She is clearly not ill or dead as Broadbent has claimed on multiple occasions. After his farce is exposed, Broadbent locks himself in his room to wait for his likely court martial. After this discovery, Dr. Rivers meets with even more broken young men and finishes the day completely exhausted. In the middle of the night, Dr. Rivers wakes up with chest pains. At dawn, he summons an orderly and Bryce immediately arrives to inspect him. Considering his irregular heartbeat and stress levels, Bryce orders Dr. Rivers to take a mandatory three-week leave starting at the end of the current week. Sassoon and Owen sit down to continue working on a poem that Owen has written about the war. As a storm starts to build, Sassoon hears a steady tapping noise, but Owen cannot. The lieutenant continues to hear the tapping after returning to his room and begins reminiscing about his men, many of whom are not "more than five feet tall". Sassoon remembers checking their feet for blisters and wonders if they are still alive. Despite being safe in the hospital, Sassoon cannot sleep. Sassoon wakes in the middle of the night to find Orme, a friend from the war, standing clearly in his doorway. For a moment, he believes he is back on the front and wonders why he is in a bed. Then, he remembers that Orme has died. He turns to face the window and when he swivels his gaze back to the door, Orme has disappeared. Convinced he has witnessed something supernatural, Sassoon waits until eight o'clock in the morning and rushes to find Dr. Rivers before he leaves. An orderly informs him that the psychologist has already departed. Devastated, Sassoon goes to wash his face in the bathroom, where he sees himself as a child in the mirror. The brief flash of his youth reminds him of the day his father left and he realizes that he has mentally replaced his father with Dr. Rivers.


prompt:
Chapter: HILLSBOROUGH HOUSE INEBRIATES' HOME

Under the guidance of Commissioner Cox I inspected a number of the
London Women's Institutions of the Army, first visiting the
Hillsborough House Inebriates' Home. This Home, a beautifully clean
and well-kept place, has accommodation for thirty patients,
twenty-nine beds being occupied on the day of my visit. The lady in
charge informed me that these patients are expected to contribute 10s.
per week towards the cost of their maintenance; but that, as a matter
of fact, they seldom pay so much. Generally the sum recovered varies
from 7s. to 3s. per week, while a good many give nothing at all.

The work the patients do in this Home is sold and produces something
towards the cost of upkeep. The actual expense of the maintenance of
the inmates averages about 12s. 6d. a week per head, which sum
includes an allowance for rent. Most of the cases stay in the Home for
twelve months, although some remain for a shorter period. When the
cure is completed, if they are married, the patients return to their
husbands. The unmarried are sent out to positions as governesses,
nurses, or servants, that is, if the authorities of the Home are able
to give them satisfactory characters.

As the reader who knows anything of such matters will be aware, it is
generally supposed to be rather more easy to pass a camel through the
eye of a needle than to reclaim a confirmed female drunkard. Yet, as I
have already said, the Salvation Army, on a three years' test in each
case, has shown that it deals successfully with about 50 per cent of
those women who come into its hands for treatment as inebriates or
drug-takers. How is this done? Largely, of course, by effecting
through religious means a change of heart and nature, as the Army
often seems to have the power to do, and by the exercise of gentle
personal influences.

But there remains another aid which is physical.

With the shrewdness that distinguishes them, the Officers of the Army
have discovered that the practice of vegetarianism is a wonderful
enemy to the practice of alcoholism. The vegetarian, it seems,
conceives a bodily distaste to spirituous liquors. If they can
persuade a patient to become a vegetarian, then the chances of her
cure are enormously increased. Therefore, in this and in the other
female Inebriate Homes no meat is served. The breakfast, which is
eaten at 7.30, consists of tea, brown and white bread and butter,
porridge and fresh milk, or stewed fruit. A sample dinner at one
o'clock includes macaroni cheese, greens, potatoes, fruit pudding or
plain boiled puddings with stewed figs. On one day a week, however,
baked or boiled fish is served with pease pudding, potatoes, and
boiled currant pudding, and on another, brown gravy is given with
onions in batter. Tea, which is served at six o'clock, consists--to
take a couple of samples--of tea, white and brown bread and butter,
and cheese sandwiches with salad; or of tea, white and brown bread and
butter, savoury rolls, and apples or oranges.

It will be observed that this diet is as simple as it well can be; but
I think it right to add, after personal inspection, that the inmates
appear to thrive on it extremely well. Certainly all whom I saw looked
well nourished and healthy.

A book is kept in the Home in which the details of each case are
carefully entered, together with its record for two years after
discharge. Here are the particulars of three cases taken by me at
hazard from this book which will serve to indicate the class of
patient that is treated at this Home. Of course, I omit the names:--

     _A.B._ Aged thirty-one. Her mother, who was a drunkard and
     gave A.B. drink in her childhood, died some time ago. A.B.
     drove her father, who was in good circumstances, having a
     large business, to madness by her inebriety. Indeed, he
     tried to commit suicide by hanging himself, but, oddly
     enough, it was A.B. who cut him down, and he was sent to an
     asylum. A.B. had fallen very low since her mother's death;
     but I do not give these details. All the members of her
     family drank, except, strange to say, the father, who at the
     date of my visit was in the asylum. A.B. had been in the
     Home some time, and was giving every satisfaction. It was
     hoped that she will be quite cured.

     _C.D._ Aged thirty. C.D.'s father, a farmer, was a moderate
     drinker, her mother was a temperance woman. Her parents
     discovered her craving for drink about ten years ago. She
     was unable to keep any situation on account of this failing.
     Four years ago C.D. was sent to an Inebriate Home for twelve
     months, but no cure was effected. Afterwards she
     disappeared, having been dismissed from her place, and was
     found again for the mother by the Salvation Army. At the
     time of my visit she had been six months in the Home, and
     was doing well.

     _E.F._ Aged forty-eight; was the widow of a professional
     man, whom she married as his second wife, and by whom she
     had two children, one of whom survives. She began to drink
     before her husband's death, and this tendency was increased
     by family troubles that arose over his will. She mismanaged
     his business and lost everything, drank heavily and
     despaired. She tried to keep a boarding house, but her
     furniture was seized and she came absolutely to the end of
     her resources, her own daughter being sent away to her
     relatives. E.F. was nine months in the Hillsborough Home,
     and had gone as cook and housekeeper to a situation, where
     she also was giving every satisfaction.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: While on sick leave, Dr. Rivers visits his brother Charles, a chicken farmer. They attend church together, during which Dr. Rivers fixates on Christ's crucifixion and Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac on the stained glass windows. The psychologist notes that Abraham and his son look smug. He reflects that "the bargain" of civilization is the promise that if sons are totally obedient to their fathers, they will one day inherit their fathers' world. Yet Dr. Rivers is disturbed, knowing that the war is ensuring that very few sons will be left to step into their father's places. Later in the day, Dr. Rivers helps Charles move hens into a new coop. That evening, Charles and his wife leave for dinner while Dr. Rivers stays home alone and looks over their accounts. He struggles to write a letter to Sassoon but abandons the task. Dr. Rivers notices a painting of the Apostles of the Pentecost receiving the gift of tongues. It used to belong his father, a priest and speech therapist. Rivers feels that the apostles look "unchristianly smug". He remembers rejecting his father's approach to treating speech impediments with physical exercises and giving a lecture to his father's speech therapy group denouncing the Bible and promoting evolution. That was the first time Dr. Rivers's father was able to hear the content of his son's speech and not just his stuttering delivery. Despite his youthful rebellion, Dr. Rivers realizes that he is a lot like his father: a therapist who treats men with stutters. After reminiscing, the psychologist finally pushes himself to start the letter to Sassoon. Owen comes to Sassoon with a heavily revised poem, Anthem for Doomed Youth, which Sassoon loves, describing it as "a revelation". Yet the lieutenant has one misgiving: the poem argues there can be no consolation for the damage wrought by the war, but the ending indicates the soldier's pride in having participated in the war. Owen defends the ending, claiming that Sassoon's poems often contain the same contradiction. Back in town, Sarah and her co-worker Madge go to the hospital to visit Madge's wounded fiance, who is in a ward filled with mildly injured and brightly optimistic young soldiers. Sarah leaves Madge alone with her fiance so they can have some privacy and wanders into the back lawn of the hospital. She sees a greenhouse, which she thinks might be a good place to rest. However, Sarah quickly realizes the structure is filled with badly wounded and disfigured men. She exits in a panic and reflects that the sudden presence of a "pretty girl" might serve to remind the men of their condition. She feels angry that these men are hidden from sight. Meanwhile, Prior is in the same hospital to have his asthma assessed. The doctor treats him poorly, insinuating that "nerves" aren't a legitimate reason to leave combat. Prior is given a card and told to return for the results of his tests in three weeks. As Prior exits the hospital, he sees Sarah emerging from behind the building and realizes how fond he is of her. They greet each other happily and Sarah runs to tell Madge that she is leaving with Billy. When she returns, Prior gives her a freshly-purchased bouquet of flowers. Dr. Rivers visits his good friend Henry Head, the man on whom he experimented to chart nerve regeneration. He has an amiable chat with Head's wife before his meeting with his old co-worker. Head tries to convince Dr. Rivers to leave Craiglockhart and accept a more prestigious position studying patients with spinal injuries at the Central Hospital in London. Dr. Rivers initially rejects the offer, insisting that he cannot abandon Bryce. However, Head pushes him to reconsider, arguing that Craiglockhart is isolating him


prompt:
Chapter: THE MATERNITY NURSING HOME LORNE HOUSE, STOKE NEWINGTON

Her Royal Highness Princes Louise, the Duchess of Argyll, defrayed the
cost of the purchase of the leasehold of this charming Home. The
lady-Officer in charge informed me that the object of the
establishment is to take in women who have or are about to have
illegitimate children. It is not, however, a lying-in Home, the
mothers being sent to the Ivy House Hospital for their confinements.
After these are over they are kept for four or sometimes for six
months at Lorne House. At the expiration of this period situations are
found for most of them, and the babies are put out to nurse in the
houses of carefully selected women with whom the mothers can keep in
touch. These women are visited from time to time by Salvation Army
Officers who make sure that the infants are well treated in every way.

All the cases in this Home are those of girls who have fallen into
trouble for the first time. They belong to a better class than do
those who are received in many of the Army Homes. The charge for their
maintenance is supposed to be L1 a week, but some pay only 5s., and
some nothing at all. As a matter of fact, out of the twelve cases
which the Home will hold, at the time of my visit half were making no
payment. If the Army averages a contribution of 7s. a week from them,
it thinks itself fortunate.

I saw a number of the babies in cradles placed in an old greenhouse in
the garden to protect them from the rain that was falling at the time.
When it is at all fine they are kept as much as possible in the open
air, and the results seem to justify this treatment, for it would be
difficult to find healthier infants.

Five or six of the inmates sleep together in a room; for those with
children a cot is provided beside each bed. I saw several of these
young women, who all seemed to be as happy and contented as was
possible under their somewhat depressing circumstances.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Still on health leave, Dr. Rivers travels to visit Burns, who has been released from Craiglockhart and is living at his family's vacation home on the English shore. As the two walk to the Burns home from the train station, razor wire and sandbags remind the psychologist of the front, even though Burns seems oblivious to the connection. Burns explains that he is alone in the cottage and that his parents have remained at home in London. He is seemingly benefitting from the fresh air and community spirit of the country town. He attempts to make the doctor comfortable but reminds Dr. Rivers of a child trying to remember how adults act when receiving a guest. He reflects that the war does not make men mature but instead, gives them a "curiously ageless quality". Despite his commitment to his method, Dr. Rivers is reluctant to force Burns to relive his memories for reasons he cannot fully articulate. Burns's nightmares have gotten worse and he fails to eat anything during the psychologist's visit. Dr. Rivers is determined to let Burns introduce the topic of war on his own, but Burns strictly avoids talking about his condition or his memories. Instead, the pair spends the next few days taking quiet walks along the seashore and visiting local pubs, avoiding any sensitive subjects. Dr. Rivers uses the time to work on a paper about the effects of suppressing war memories and worries that he has done Burns a great disservice by not forcing him to relive his experiences. He realizes that he may be categorizing Burns's predicament as mythical, akin to Jonah being in the belly of the whale, instead of addressing it as a practical psychological issue. The psychologist thinks about the awful things his other patients have endured, recalling that corpses are often used as haphazard building material in the trenches. Therefore, Rivers cannot classify Burns' experience as definitively worse than Prior's or anyone else's. On one of their walks, Burns and Rivers pass the area where fishermen gut their fish, leaving the heads and bloody entrails all along the shore. The sight of the gore disturbs Burns. Once they return to the house, Burns begins to speak about mundane things in a manic and disconnected manner. That evening, Dr. Rivers awakens to the sound of a boat crashing into the shore. The sound is similar to that of a bomb exploding. Dr. Rivers leaves his room and realizes that Burns is no longer in the house. Concerned, the psychologist runs out into the heavy storm. A local woman points him in the direction of a small defensive fort. When he reaches the low, squat building, Dr. Rivers finds Burns nearly catatonic in the cellar, which is completely submerged at high-tide. Instinctively, Dr. Rivers thinks, "Nothing justifies this. Nothing nothing nothing. With some gentle prodding, Rivers is able to drag Burns back to the house and coax him into bed. The next morning, Burns finally begins to speak about his experiences in the war. He says that he was tasked with writing letters home to the families of men who had died. Burns tells of a useless charge in which 80 percent of the men in a single company were killed. He admits that he used to constantly volunteer for patrol in the hopes that he would be hit by a bullet, get a clean wound, and be discharged. After his narrative is complete, the officer reflects that what is so horrifying about Christ's crucifixion is that someone had to be evil enough to invent the punishment. Though Burns does not speak about the specific incident that triggered his shell-shock, Dr. Rivers believes that his speaking about the war at all demonstrates great improvement, even if Burns seems unstable. He thinks that Burns's experience really is worse than that of the others because it as so completely destroyed the man he once was. The psychologist reflects, however, that the process of transformation often resembles further deterioration. He tries to imagine a future for his patient but admits that Burns has "missed his chance of being ordinary"


prompt:
Chapter: THE MATERNITY RECEIVING HOME BRENT HOUSE, HACKNEY

This Home serves a somewhat similar purpose as that at Lorne House,
but the young women taken in here while awaiting their confinement are
not, as a rule, of so high a class.

In the garden at the back of the house about forty girls were seated
in a kind of shelter which protected them from the rain, some of them
working and some talking together, while others remained apart
depressed and silent. Most of these young women were shortly expecting
to become mothers. Certain of them, however, already had their
infants, as there were seventeen babies in the Home who had been
crowded out of the Central Maternity Hospital. Among these were some
very sad cases, several of them being girls of gentle birth, taken in
here because they could pay nothing. One, I remember, was a foreign
young lady, whose sad history I will not relate. She was found running
about the streets of a seaport town in a half-crazed condition and
brought to this place by the Officers of the Salvation Army.

In this house there is a room where ex-patients who are in service can
bring their infants upon their holidays. Two or three of these women
were here upon the occasion of my visit, and it was a pathetic sight
to see them dandling the babies from whom they had been separated and
giving them their food.

It is the custom in this and other Salvation Army Maternity Homes to
set apart a night in every month for what is called a Social Evening.
On these occasions fifty or more of the former inmates will arrive
with their children, whom they have brought from the various places
where they are at nurse, and for a few hours enjoy their society,
after which they take them back to the nurses and return to their
work, whatever it may be. By means of this kindly arrangement these
poor mothers are enabled from time to time to see something of their
offspring, which, needless to say, is a boon they greatly prize.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Dr. Rivers returns to Craiglockhart and tells Bryce about the job offer in London. Bryce encourages him to accept it, explaining that he will most likely leave soon anyway due to his ongoing disagreements with his superiors on how the hospital should be run. Dr. Rivers cannot imagine being at Craiglockhart without Bryce and and Bryce feels the same. Yet Dr. Rivers still sees his work at the hospital as meaningful. Later, Sassoon comes to see Dr. Rivers and asks him for a new roommate. His current one is insufferable, Sassoon claims, because he waves away the pain and damage of the war with simple platitudes. Dr. Rivers encourages Sassoon to wait the ten days until his roommate's transfer. Sassoon then starts describing his hallucinations, explaining that they are subdued enough to feel real. Dr. Rivers shares that he once heard the whistling of the dead when he was studying native practices in the Solomon Islands. He was attending a funeral, during which the dead are expected to make noise; Rivers cannot be sure whether he was pulled into a mass hallucination or if he really heard dead souls whistling. Sassoon explains that in his visions, departed soldiers look at him puzzlingly, wondering why he is not on the front lines. Consumed by his guilt, Sassoon tells the doctor that he has agreed to return to the front.


prompt:
Chapter: THE MATERNITY HOSPITAL IVY HOUSE, HACKNEY

This Hospital is one for the accommodation of young mothers on the
occasion of the birth of their illegitimate children. It is a humble
building, containing twenty-five beds, although I think a few more can
be arranged. That it serves its purpose well, until the large
Maternity Hospital of which I have already spoken can be built, is
shown by the fact that 286 babies (of whom only twenty-five were not
illegitimate) were born here in 1900 without the loss of a single
mother. Thirty babies died, however, which the lady-Officer in charge
thought rather a high proportion, but one accounted for by the fact
that during this particular year a large number of the births were
premature. In 1908, 270 children were born, of whom twelve died, six
of these being premature.

The cases are drawn from London and other towns where the Salvation
Army is at work. Generally they, or their relatives and friends, or
perhaps the father of the child, apply to the Army to help them in
their trouble, thereby, no doubt, preventing many child-murders and
some suicides. The charge made by the Institution for these lying-in
cases is in proportion to the ability of the patient to pay. Many
contribute nothing at all. From those who do pay, the average sum
received is 10_s_. a week, in return for which they are furnished with
medical attendance, food, nursing, and all other things needful to
their state.

I went over the Hospital, and saw these unfortunate mothers lying in
bed, each of them with her infant in a cot beside her. Although their
immediate trial was over, these poor girls looked very sad.

'They know that their lives are spoiled,' said the lady in charge.

Most of them were quite young, some being only fifteen, and the
majority under twenty. This, it was explained to me, is generally due
to the ignorance of the facts of life in which girls are kept by their
parents or others responsible for their training. Last year there was
a mother aged thirteen in this Hospital.

One girl, who seemed particularly sad, had twins lying beside her.
Hoping to cheer her up, I remarked that they were beautiful babies,
whereon she hid her face beneath the bedclothes.

'Don't talk about them,' said the Officer, drawing me away, 'that
child nearly cried her eyes out when she was told that there were two.
You see, it is hard enough for these poor mothers to keep one, but
when it comes to two--!'

I asked whether the majority of these unfortunate young women really
tried to support their children. The answer was that most of them try
very hard indeed, and will use all their money for this purpose, even
stinting themselves of absolute necessaries. Few of them go wrong
again after their first slip, as they have learned their lesson.
Moreover, during their stay in hospital and afterwards, the Salvation
Army does its best to impress on them certain moral teachings, and
thus to make its work preventive as well as remedial.

Places in service are found for a great number of these girls,
generally where only one servant is kept, so that they may not be
taunted by the others if these should find out their secret. This as a
rule, however, is confided to the mistress. The average wage they
receive is about L18 a year. As it costs them L13, or 5_s_. a week, to
support an infant (not allowing for its clothes), the struggle is very
hard unless the Army can discover the father, and make him contribute
towards the support of his child, either voluntarily or through a
bastardy order.

I was informed that many of these fathers are supposed to be
gentlemen, but when it comes to this matter of payment, they show that
they have little title to that description. Of course, in the case of
men of humbler degree, money is even harder to recover. I may add,
that my own long experience as a magistrate goes to confirm this
statement. It is extraordinary to what meanness, subterfuge, and even
perjury, a man will sometimes resort, in order to avoid paying so
little as 1_s_. 6_d_. a week towards the keep of his own child. Often
the line of defence is a cruel attempt to blacken the character of the
mother, even when the accuser well knows that there is not the
slightest ground for the charge, and that he alone is responsible for
the woman's fall.[5] Also, if the case is proved, and the order made,
many such men will run away and hide themselves in another part of the
country to escape the fulfilment of their just obligations.

In connexion with this Maternity Hospital, the Salvation Army has a
Training School for midwives and nurses, all of whom must pass the
Central Midwives Board examination before they are allowed to
practise. Some of the students, after qualifying, continue to work for
the Army in its Hospital Department, and others in the Slum
Department, while some go abroad in the service of other Societies.
The scale of fees for this four months' course in midwifery varies
according to circumstances. The Army asks the full charge of eighteen
guineas from those students who belong to, or propose to serve other
Societies. Those who intend to go abroad to work with medical
missionaries, have to pay fifteen guineas, and those who are members
of the Salvation Army, or who intend to serve the Army in this
Department, pay nothing, unless, at the conclusion of their course,
they decide to leave the Army's service.

At the last examination, out of fourteen students sent up from this
Institution, thirteen passed the necessary test.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Sarah meets her mother, Ada, for lunch. Ada, a suspicious and hard woman, quickly extracts the story of Sarah's romance with Billy. She then warns her daughter that every tenth condom has been pricked with a hole and goes on to assert that if Sarah has sex with her suitors, they will never marry her. Ada wishes her daughter worked in a place where she would have the opportunity to meet men, not at the munitions factory that is causing her skin to turn steadily more yellow. Ada's greatest ambition for Sarah is that she marry a man with a stable income; if the man dies after their marriage and she is left with an inheritance, all the better. In Ada's mind, men are predatory and women are dependent. Ada does not believe men and women can love one another; Sarah finds this approach to life very depressing. At the end of their meal, Ada warns Sarah that Billy is only interested in her for sex and advises her daughter to be cautious. Sassoon meets with Graves and they discuss his imminent return to France. Their conversation is cold; it seems as though a distance has grown between them. Graves tells Sassoon that he worries about him because Sassoon does not think about the future anymore. The lieutenant, meanwhile, refers to the mounting death rates and tells Graves that if he had any real courage, he wouldn't "acquiesce" the way he has. Offended, Grave invokes a gentlemanly code of honor where keeping one's word reigns supreme, reminding Sassoon about the promises he made upon enlisting. After their argument, Graves informs Sassoon that Peter, a boy Graves was very fond of, was arrested for soliciting outside the barracks and will be sent to Dr. Rivers for treatment. Graves goes on to say that since the incident, he has begun writing to a woman in order to focus his attention on more "normal" relationships. Graves insists he is not, nor has he ever been, a homosexual, "even in thought". Sassoon is taken aback by this unwarranted admission. Sarah goes to work at the munitions factory during the night-shift, chatting with her co-workers while they wait to enter. The women joke about all the homosexual men in the army in a somewhat vulgar manner. Looking around her, Sarah observes that these women do not look human: the factory has dyed their skin yellow and endowed each one with a crown of frizzy copper hair. She asks about the whereabouts of her friend Betty and learns that Betty attempted to give herself an abortion with a coat-hanger and accidentally punctured her bladder. Betty had to be taken to the emergency room, where a condescending doctor lectured her. Dr. Rivers finishes his rounds that evening with Sassoon, who is anxious to hear if the War Office has agreed to send him back to France. After the psychologist explains that he has gotten no word, Sassoon mentions Graves's story about Peter and subsequent rejection of his homosexuality. The lieutenant admits that he thought social attitudes towards homosexual men were improving. Dr. Rivers agrees but theorizes that during a war, men are encouraged to develop extremely close and brotherly relationships in combat; the intimacy of these relationships makes many men nervous. Therefore, exaggerated posturing against homosexuality is a way for soldiers to create a distinct separation between the bonds of war and romantic love between two men. The psychologist warns Sassoon that making his private life public could result in severe persecution. Sassoon replies that he does not want to repress his beliefs or desires. Harshly, Dr. Rivers compares him to Don Quixote and tells him to grow up


prompt:
Chapter: 'THE NEST', CLAPTON

When I began to write this book, I determined to set down all things
exactly as I saw or heard them. But, although somewhat hardened in
such matters by long experience of a very ugly world, I find that
there are limits to what can be told of such a place as 'The Nest' in
pages which are meant for perusal by the general public. The house
itself is charming, with a good garden adorned by beautiful trees. It
has every arrangement and comfort possible for the welfare of its
child inmates, including an open-air bedroom, cleverly contrived from
an old greenhouse for the use of those among them whose lungs are
weakly.

But these inmates, these sixty-two children whose ages varied from
about four to about sixteen! What can I say of their histories? Only
in general language, that more than one half of them have been subject
to outrages too terrible to repeat, often enough at the hands of their
own fathers! If the reader wishes to learn more, he can apply
confidentially to Commissioner Cox, or to Mrs. Bramwell Booth.

[Illustration: SOME OF THE CHILDREN AT 'THE NEST'.]

Here, however, is a case that I can mention, as although it is
dreadful enough, it belongs to a different class. Seeing a child of
ten, whose name was Betty, playing about quite happily with the
others, I spoke to her, and afterwards asked for the particulars of
her story. They were brief. It appears that this poor little thing had
actually seen her father murder her mother. I am glad to be able to
add that to all appearance she has recovered from the shock of this
awful experience.

Indeed, all these little girls, notwithstanding their hideous pasts,
seemed, so far as I could judge, to be extremely happy at their
childish games in the garden. Except that some were of stunted growth,
I noted nothing abnormal about any of them. I was told, however, by
the Officer in charge, that occasionally, when they grow older,
propensities originally induced in them through no fault of their own
will assert themselves.

To lessen this danger, as in the case of the women inebriates, all
these children are brought up as vegetarians. Before me, as I write,
is the bill of fare for the week, which I tore off a notice board in
the house. The breakfast on three days, to take examples, consists of
porridge, with boiling milk and sugar, cocoa, brown and white bread
and butter. On the other mornings either stewed figs, prunes, or
marmalade are added. A sample dinner consists of lentil savoury, baked
potatoes, brown gravy and bread; boiled rice with milk and sugar. For
tea, bananas, apples, oranges, nuts, jam, brown and white bread and
butter and cocoa are supplied, but tea itself as a beverage is only
given on Sundays. A footnote to the bill of fare states that all
children over twelve years of age who wish for it, can have bread and
butter before going to bed.

Certainly the inmates of 'The Nest,' if any judgment may be formed
from their personal appearance, afford a good argument to the
advocates of vegetarianism.

It costs L13 a year to endow a bed in this Institution. Amongst
others, I saw one which was labelled 'The Band of Helpers' Bed. This
is maintained by girls who have passed through the Institution, and
are now earning their livelihood in the world, as I thought, a
touching and significant testimony. I should add that the children in
this Home are educated under the direction of a certificated
governess.

My visit to this Refuge made a deep impression on my mind. No person
of sense and experience, remembering the nameless outrages to which
many of these poor children have been exposed, could witness their
present health and happiness without realizing the blessed nature of
this work.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Prior attends his board hearing. The internal tension between his ambition to prove himself on the battlefield and his desire to live nearly paralyzes Prior, and Dr. Rivers empathizes with him. Outside the hearing, Sassoon and several other soldiers wait for their own hearings, increasingly nervous as their appointments are further and further delayed. Angry that he is being made to wait after preparing himself to die for his country yet again, Sassoon leaves abruptly. When Dr. Rivers comes to find Sassoon to bring him into his hearing, he is long gone. After learning that he will be excused from further service, Prior sobs because he wanted to return to the front. Dr. Rivers explains that it was not his mental condition but his asthma that rendered him unfit for battle. Prior is ashamed, claiming he'll never know how he would have performed and fearing that his failure will haunt him. Dr. Rivers admits that if he were in Prior's position he would feel similarly because they have both been socially conditioned to do so. The psychologist tries to convince his patient that everyone who survives a war experiences guilt, trying to help him see that his reaction is perfectly normal. Prior explains that his asthma always made him want to prove himself more, but his mother was always holding him back for his own safety. He remarks that Dr. Rivers reminds him of his mother. Billy says he will write to the psychologist and the two men say goodbye amicably. Dr. Rivers eats dinner and ruminates over Sassoon's disappearance. Nobody has seen the lieutenant since he skipped his board hearing and the psychologist worries that Sassoon might have gone to London to make another anti-war statement. Dr. Rivers speculates that with the mounting death tolls, the War Office will be particularly sensitive to criticism and would likely have Sassoon declared insane if he renews his protest. Meanwhile, another doctor at the table speaks insensitively about poor women and procreation. Sassoon finally returns to Craiglockhart, acting like a school boy who has skipped class. Dr. Rivers demands an explanation for his behavior, but Sassoon cannot produce a satisfying one. He claims that he was upset for being made to wait and was late for an appointment to have tea with a friend. Eventually, Sassoon admits that he wanted to get a second opinion from another esteemed psychologist in London so that if the War Office attempted to have him declared insane, he would have the opinions of two renowned doctors to support his sanity. Despite this, Sassoon made no effort to get a second opinion after he walked out, he simply went to have tea with his friend. Sassoon speaks about the possibility of reviving his protest against the war, but he also says that he intends to return to France regardless. Dr. Rivers does not understand Sassoon's contradictory position but is grateful that the lieutenant is going to return to the front after all


prompt:
Chapter: THE TRAINING INSTITUTE FOR WOMEN SOCIAL WORKERS, CLAPTON

Colonel Lambert, the lady-Officer in charge of this Institution,
informed me that it can accommodate sixty young women. At the time of
my visit forty-seven pupils were being prepared for service in the
Women's Department of what is called 'Salvation Army Warfare.' These
Cadets come from all sources and in various ways. Most of them have
first been members of the Army and made application to be trained,
feeling themselves attracted to this particular branch of its work.

The basis of their instruction is religious and theological. It
includes the study of the Bible, of the doctrine and discipline of the
Salvation Army and the rules and regulations governing the labours of
its Social Officers. In addition, these Cadets attend practical
classes where they learn needlework, the scientific cutting out of
garments, knitting, laundry work, first medical aid, nursing, and so
forth. The course at this Institution takes ten months to complete,
after which those Cadets who have passed the examinations are
appointed to various centres of the Army's Social activities.

When these young women have passed out and enter on active Social work
they are allowed their board and lodging and a small salary to pay for
their clothing. This salary at the commencement of a worker's career
amounts to the magnificent sum of 4s. a week, if she 'lives in' (about
the pay of a country kitchen maid); out of which she is expected to
defray the cost of her uniform and other clothes, postage stamps, etc.
Ultimately, after many years of service, it may rise to as much as
10s. in the case of senior Officers, or, if the Officer finds her own
board and lodging, to a limit of L1 a week.

Of these ladies who are trained in the Home few leave the Army. Should
they do so, however, I am informed that they can generally obtain from
other Organizations double or treble the pay which the Army is able to
afford.

This Training Institution is a building admirably suited to the
purpose to which it is put. Originally it was a ladies' school, which
was purchased by the Salvation Army. The dining-room of the Cadets was
very well arranged and charmingly decorated with flowers, as was that
of the Officers beyond. There was also a Cadets' retiring-room, where
I saw some of them reading or otherwise amusing themselves on their
Saturday half-holiday. The Army would be glad to find and train more
of these self-sacrificing workers; but the conditions of the pay which
they can offer and the arduous nature of the lifelong service
involved, are such that those of a satisfactory class are not too
readily forthcoming.

Attached to this Training Institution is a Home for girls of doubtful
or bad antecedents, which I also visited. This Rescue Home is linked
up with the Training School, so that the Cadets may have the
opportunity of acquiring a practical knowledge of the class of work
upon which they are to be engaged in after-life. Most of the girls in
the Rescue Home have passed through the Police-courts, and been handed
over to the care of the Army by magistrates. The object of the Army is
to reform them and instruct them in useful work which will enable them
to earn an honest living.

Many of these girls have been in the habit of thieving from their
mistresses or others, generally in order to enable them to make
presents to their lovers. Indeed, it would seem that this mania for
making presents is a frequent cause of the fall of young persons with
a natural leaning to dishonesty and a desire to appear rich and
liberal. The Army succeeds in reclaiming a great number of them; but
the thieving instinct is one not easy to eradicate.

All these girls seemed fairly happy. A great deal of knitting is done
by them, and I saw a room furnished with a number of knitting
machines, where work is turned out to the value of nearly L25 a week.
Also I was shown piles of women's and children's underclothing and
other articles, the produce of the girls' needles, which are sold to
help to defray the expenses of the Home. In the workroom on this
Saturday afternoon a number of the young women were engaged in mending
their own garments. After their period of probation many of these
girls are sent out to situations found for them by the Army.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Prior sneaks into Sarah's yard, waiting for a signal before climbing into her room through the window. He knows he should feel free after being released from duty, but he finds this freedom to be "hollow". Trying to remain quiet so as not to alert the landlady and the other tenants, Billy and Sarah whisper nervously. The couple, shy and sweet, lay on the bed together for a moment, anticipating sleeping together. Sarah says she is happy that Billy will not be returning to war, triggering a brief flashback. Billy considers telling her about his war experiences because he wants Sarah to know him "deeply," but ultimately decides that he needs her to remain ignorant so he can hide in her innocence. They joke for a few moments before Billy announces that he loves her; after some brief hesitation, Sarah says she loves him as well. At the Conservative Club, Sassoon and Owen laugh over a book of awful poetry that was given to the lieutenant by the author. Sassoon makes a gift of the book to Owen, who remarks that whenever Sassoon does something intimate, he does it in a way that is "impossible to take seriously". Owen admits that Craiglockhart will be very lonely without Sassoon and Dr. Rivers. He reflects that he, like Sassoon, will soon be forced to leave and give up his bed for a needier patient. Sassoon gives his friend a letter of introduction to Robert Ross, a key figure in the London literary scene, and leaves without officially saying goodbye. Owen tries not to think about all he has lost.


prompt:
Chapter: THE WOMEN'S INDUSTRIAL HOME, HACKNEY

This Home is one of much the same class as that which I have just
described. It has accommodation for forty-eight girls, of whom over
1,000 have passed through the Institution, where they are generally
kept for a period of six months. Most of the young women in the Home
when I visited it had been thieves. One, who was twenty-seven years of
age, had stolen ever since she was twelve, and the lady in charge told
me that when she came to them everything she had on her, and almost
all the articles in her trunk were the property of former mistresses.

In answer to my questions, Commissioner Cox informed me that the
result of their work in this Home was so satisfactory that they
scarcely liked to announce it. They computed, however, that taken on a
three years' test--for the subsequent career of each inmate is
followed for that period--90 per cent of the cases prove to be
permanent moral cures. This, when the previous history of these young
women is considered, may, I think, be accounted a great triumph. No
money contribution is asked or expected in this particular Home.
Indeed, it would not be forthcoming from the class of girls who are
sent or come here to be reformed, many of whom, on entering, are
destitute of underclothing and other necessaries, The needlework which
they do, however, is sold, and helps to pay for the upkeep of the
place.

I asked what was done if any of them refused to work. The answer was
that this very rarely happened, as the women-Officers shared in their
labours, and the girls could not for shame's sake sit idle while their
Officers worked. I visited the room where this sewing was in progress,
and observed that Commissioner Cox, who conducted me, was received
with hearty, and to all appearance, spontaneous clapping of hands,
which seemed to indicate that these poor young women are happy and
contented. The hours of labour kept in the Home are those laid down in
the Factory Acts.

While looking at the work produced by the inmates, I asked
Commissioner Cox if she had anything to say as to the charges of
sweating which are sometimes brought against the Army, and of
underselling in the markets. Her answer was:--

'We do not compete in the markets at all, as we do not make sufficient
articles, and never work for the trade or supply wholesale; we sell
the garments we make one by one by means of our pedlars. It is
necessary that we should do this in order to support our girls. Either
we must manufacture and sell the work, or they must starve.'

Here we have the whole charge of sweating by the Army in a nutshell,
and the answer to it.

In this Home a system has been devised for providing each girl with an
outfit when she leaves. It is managed by means of a kind of deferred
pay, which is increased if she keeps up to the standard of work
required. Thus, gradually, she earns her outfit, and leaves the place
with a box of good clothes. The first thing provided is a pair of
boots, then a suitable box, and lastly, the materials which they make
into clothes.

This house, like all the others, I found to be extremely well
arranged, with properly-ventilated dormitories, and well suited to its
purposes.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Dr. Rivers is completing his last evening rounds at Craiglockhart before leaving for his new position in London. Willard, the soldier who was paralyzed below the waist, has begun walking again, though he credits his recovery to a surgical intervention by the psychologist instead of admitting that his condition was mental. At the end of his rounds, Dr. Rivers meets with Sassoon and notices that the lieutenant seems subdued, as if he has "given up hope of influencing events". Sassoon has come from a meeting with a famous pacifist who has scolded him for agreeing to participate in the war again. Dr. Rivers advises Sassoon to avoid getting into further trouble before his rescheduled board review. The psychologist moves into a boarding house in London, where the constant air raids interfere with his sleep. Dr. Rivers begins to feel increasingly ill in the sinister setting of war-time London. At his new position, he studies the incidence of shell-shock in different branches of the Royal Flying Corps, discovering that men who pilot observation balloons have the highest rate of breakdowns. The soldiers are trapped in the balloons without any ability to attack or defend themselves, leaving them helpless, which induces shell-shock. Dr. Rivers compares the immobilized soldiers to women during peace time, whose prescribed social roles leave them helpless and vulnerable to bouts of hysteria. In addition to his new work, Dr. Rivers remains in touch with many of his former patients. Eventually, Dr. Rivers accepts an invitation to visit Queen Square Hospital, where one of his colleagues, Dr. Yealland, is using extreme physical methods to achieve results in shell-shocked patients. When Rivers arrives, he walks down an eerily silent corridor that reminds him of his patients' descriptions of "No Man's Land. Along the way, he encounters a horribly disfigured man who gives the psychologist a disturbing look. Dr. Yealland and an entourage of doctors and nurses walk over to meet Dr. Rivers. Dr. Yealland is aggressive and authoritarian, relishing the power he holds over patients. The men under his care seem depressed, but Dr. Yealland does not care much about their mental well-being. Unlike Rivers, Yealland is interested in conducting strictly in one-time, physical treatments. The group walks through the wards and arrives at the bed of the disfigured man that Dr. Rivers spied in the hallway. Yealland speaks about this patient clinically, as if he were a specimen to be dissected and repaired. When the patient expresses fear of the painful treatments the doctor has planned for him, Yealland condescendingly silences him in an "almost God-like tone". The group moves on to another patient named Callan who suffers from mutism. Dr. Yealland accuses Callan of having a poor attitude. Meanwhile, another doctor describes the horrific medical treatments to which Callan has been subjected, including having lit cigarettes pushed into his tongue and being shocked with electrodes. Dr. Rivers is taken aback by the extreme nature of the so-called cures and is interested in witnessing a one of Dr. Yealland's sessions with Callan. Dr. Yealland reveals that he only has one private session with each patient and does not allow them to leave until he deems them cured. Dr. Yealland warns Rivers that Callan's session could last for an extended period of time, given his anti-authoritarian nature. Dr. Rivers understands and agrees to stay for the entire treatment


prompt:
Chapter: THE INEBRIATES' HOME SPRINGFIELD LODGE, DENMARK HILL.

This house, which has a fine garden attached, was a gentleman's
residence purchased by the Salvation Army, to serve as an Inebriates'
Home for the better class of patients. With the exception of a few who
give their services in connexion with the work of the place as a
return for their treatment, it is really a Home for gentlefolk. When I
visited it, some of the inmates, of whom there are usually from
twenty-five to thirty, were talented ladies who could speak several
languages, or paint, or play very well. All these came here to be
cured of the drink or drug habit. The fee for the course ranges from a
guinea to 10_s_. per week, according to the ability of the patient to
pay, but some who lack this ability pay nothing at all.

The lady in charge remarked drily on this point, that many people
seemed to think that as the place belonged to the Salvation Army it
did not matter if they paid or not. As is the practice at Hillsborough
House, a vegetarian diet is insisted upon as a condition of
the patient receiving treatment at the Home. Often this is a cause of
much remonstrance, as the inmates, who are mostly persons in middle or
advanced life, think that it will kill them. The actual results,
however, are found to be most satisfactory, as the percentage of
successes is found to be 50 per cent, after a year in the Home and
three years' subsequent supervision. I was told that a while ago, Sir
Thomas Barlow, the well-known physician, challenged this statement. He
was asked to see for himself, he examined a number of the patients,
inspected the books and records, and finally satisfied himself that it
was absolutely correct.

The Army attaches much importance to what may be called the after-care
of the cases, for the lack of which so many people who pass through
Homes and then return to ordinary life, break down, and become,
perhaps, worse than they were before. The seven devils of Scripture
are always ready to re-occupy the swept and garnished soul, especially
if they be the devils of drink.

Moreover, the experience of the Army is that relatives and friends are
extraordinarily thoughtless in this matter. Often enough they will, as
it were, thrust spirituous liquors down the throat of the
newly-reformed drunkard, or at the least will pass them before their
eyes and drink them in their presence as usual, with results that may
be imagined. One taste and in four cases out of six the thing is done.
The old longings awake again and must be satisfied.

For these reasons the highly-skilled Officers of the Salvation Army
hold that reclaimed inebriates should be safeguarded, watched, and, so
far as the circumstances may allow, kept under the influences that
have brought about their partial recovery. They say that they owe much
of their remarkable success in those cases to a strict observance of
such preventive methods for a period of three years. After that time
patients must stand upon their own feet. These remarks apply also to
the victims of the drug habit, who are even more difficult to deal
with than common drunkards.

At this Home I had a conversation with a fine young woman, an
ex-hospital nurse, who gave me a very interesting account of her
experiences of laudanum drinking. She said that in an illness she had
gone through while she was a nurse a doctor dosed her with laudanum to
deaden her pain and induce sleep. The upshot was that she could not
sleep without the help of laudanum or other opiates, and thus the
fatal habit was formed. She described the effects of the drug upon
her, which appeared to be temporary exhilaration and freedom from all
care, coupled with sensations of great vigour. She spoke also of
delightful visions; but when I asked her to describe the visions, she
went back upon that statement, perhaps because their nature was such
as she did not care to set out. She added, however, that the sleep
which followed was haunted by terrible dreams.

Another effect of the habit, according to this lady, is forgetfulness,
which showed itself in all kinds of mistakes, and in the loss of power
of accurate expression, which caused her to say things she did not
mean and could not remember when she had said them. She told me that
the process of weaning herself from the drug was extremely painful and
difficult; but that she now slept well and desired it no more.

To be plain, I was not satisfied with the truth of this last
statement, for there was a strange look in her eyes which suggested
that she still desired it very much; also she seemed to me to
prevaricate upon certain points. Further, those in charge of her
allowed that this diagnosis was probably correct, especially as she is
now in the Home for the second time, although her first visit there
was a very short one. Still they thought that she would be cured in
the end. Let us hope that they were right.

The Army has also another Home in this neighbourhood, run on similar
lines, for the treatment of middle-class and poor people.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: After lunch, Dr. Yealland prepares to treat Callan, seemingly enthusiastic about the task. Rivers follows Yealland into a room that is pitch-black except for a small light illuminating a battery powering the electroshock machine. In the center of the room sits what looks like a dentist's chair with restraining straps. Dr. Rivers finds an inconspicuous seat against a far wall. As he is strapped into the chair, Callan is filled with fear and apprehension. Dr. Yealland informs Callan that the door is locked and he will only be allowed to leave once he speaks as well as he did before becoming mute. Dr. Yealland pushes an electrode into the back of Callan's throat, causing the patient to spasm from the force of the shock. He keeps shocking Callan repeatedly for over an hour, until the soldier produces a small "ah". Dr. Yealland is pleased, lording over his patient and insisting that he has complete control over him. Yealland then forces Callan to march around the battery, even though the man is exhausted and near collapse. Afterwards, Callan resignedly motions for the doctor to continue his treatment. Dr. Yealland informs Callan that he has no control over when the treatment will begin again: the timing and frequency of the shocks are subject only to the doctor's whim. Dr. Rivers is horrified watching Callan struggle to speak, remembering his own difficulties with stammering. After another round of shocks, Callan is able to produce a "bah" sound before he collapses in tears. He asks for water and then attempts to break out of the room, pounding on the locked door. Dr. Yealland condescendingly informs Callan that he must live up to his status as a war hero before turning up the current to resume the treatment. Eventually, after several hours, Callan begins tentatively forming words, then phrases, and eventually, fully-formed sentences. At the end of the session, Callan smiles in a way that irritates Dr. Yealland; the doctor forces him back into the chair and shocks his mouth to take the smile off his face. Callan, completely broken, thanks Dr. Yealland as he leaves


prompt:
Chapter: THE WOMEN'S INDUSTRIAL HOME SOUTHWOOD, SYDENHAM HILL

This is another of the Salvation Army Homes for Women. When I visited
Southwood, which is an extremely good house, having been a gentleman's
residence, with a garden and commanding a beautiful view, there were
about forty inmates, some of whom were persons of gentle birth. For
such ladies single sleeping places are provided, with special dining
and sitting-rooms. These are supposed to pay a guinea a week for their
board and accommodation, though I gathered that this sum was not
always forthcoming. The majority of the other inmates, most of whom
have gone astray in one way or another, pay nothing.

A good many of the cases here are what are called preventive; that is
to say, that their parents or guardians being able to do nothing with
them, and fearing lest they should come to ruin, send them to this
place as a last resource, hoping that they may be cured of their evil
tendencies.

Thus one girl whom I think I saw, could not be prevented from gadding
on the streets, and therefore had been placed here. Another young
woman was a schoolmistress who would not get out of bed and refused to
work. When she came to the Home she was very insolent and
bad-tempered, and would do nothing. Now, I was informed, she rises
with the lark, at 6.30 indeed, and works like a Trojan. I could not
help wondering whether these excellent habits would survive her
departure from the Home. Another lady, who had been sentenced for
thefts, was the daughter of a minister. She horrified the Officers by
regretting that she had gone to jail for so little, when others who
had taken and enjoyed large sums received practically the same
sentence. She was reported to be doing well.

Another, also a lady, was the victim of an infatuation which caused
her to possess herself of money to send to some man who had followed
her about from the time she was in a boarding school. Another was a
foreigner, who had been sent to an American doctor in the East to be
trained as a nurse. This poor girl underwent an awful experience, and
was in the care of the Salvation Army recovering from shock; but, of
course, hers is a different class of case from those which I have
mentioned above. Another was an English girl who had been turned out
of Canada because of her bad behaviour with men. And so on.

It only remains to say that most of these people appeared to be doing
well, while many of those in the humbler classes of life were being
taught to earn their own living in the laundry that is attached to the
Institution.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: That night, Dr. Rivers is haunted by images of the "treatment" he witnessed, describing his memories of the incident as "hallucinatory". He is distracted and unable to work on his upcoming paper, so he leaves his room to walk around a darkened London. Even then, the images from the afternoon will not leave his thoughts; the psychologist eventually returns home and goes to bed. Dr. Rivers dreams that he is walking down the eerie corridor of Queen Square Hospital, where he runs into the disfigured patient from that morning. The man is chanting the first lines of Sassoon's letter protesting the war. Suddenly, Rivers finds himself with an electrode in his hand and a man's open mouth in front of him. Dr. Rivers attempts to push the electrode into the patient's mouth, but it is too big. He realizes that the electrode has metamorphosed into a horse bit, which he is cruelly jamming into the patient's mouth. The psychologist is awoken by his own scream, deeply disturbed by the images his brain has created. Dr. Rivers notes that though his dream featured a scene of "oral rape," it did not feel sexual. He traces the dream to his discomfort with Dr. Yealland's methods; Rivers recalls that his own stutter had been getting worse throughout the day. Dr. Rivers speculates that the disfigured man in his dream must represent Sassoon, since he was reciting his letter, but he cannot figure out who the second patient could represent. Rivers remembers that he once scraped a spoon across the back of Prior's throat to try and induce speech and feels disgusted with himself. Suddenly, Rivers feels as though there is no difference between him and Dr. Yealland: both men are tasked with pushing ill men back into a deadly situation that they are trying desperately to escape. The silence of men like Callan and Prior is their protest against an unjust system, Rivers muses, and the doctors are the ones silencing the soldiers' protest by forcing them to speak. Trying but failing to avoid the realization, Dr. Rivers discovers the identity of the man he silenced and therefore, was seated in the dentist's chair in his dream: Sassoon


prompt:
Chapter: THE WOMEN'S SHELTER, WHITECHAPEL

This is a place where women, most of them old, so far as my
observation went, are taken in to sleep at a charge of 3_d._ a night.
It used to be 2_d_. until the London County Council made the provision
of sheets, etc., compulsory, when the Army was obliged to raise the
payment. This Shelter, which is almost always so full that people have
to be turned away, holds 261 women. It contains a separate room, where
children are admitted with their mothers, half price, namely
1-1/2_d._, being charged per child. There is a kitchen attached where
the inmates can buy a large mug of tea for a 1/2_d._, and a huge chunk
of bread for a second 1/2_d._; also, if I remember right, other
articles of food, if they can afford such luxuries.

The great dormitory in this Shelter, it may be mentioned, was once a
swimming-bath. Some of the women who come to this place have slept in
it almost every night for eighteen or twenty years. Others make use of
it for a few months, and then vanish for a period, especially in the
summer, when they go hop or strawberry picking, and return in the
winter. Every day, however, fresh people appear, possibly to depart on
the morrow and be seen no more.

I asked whether the aged folk had not been benefited by the Old Age
Pensions Act. The lady Officer in charge replied that it had been a
blessing to some of them. One old woman, however, would not apply for
her pension, although she was urged to take a room for herself
somewhere. She said that she was afraid if she did so, she might be
turned out and be lonely.

I visited this Shelter in the late afternoon, before it was filled up.
A number of dilapidated and antique females were sitting about in the
rooms, talking or sewing. One old lady was doing crochet work. She
told me that she made her living by it, and by flower-selling. Another
informed me that it was years since she had slept anywhere else, and
that she did not know what poor women like her would do without this
place. Another was cooking the broth. Her husband was a sea captain,
and when he died, her father had allowed her _L1_ a week until he
died. Afterwards she took to drink, and drifted here, where, I was
informed, she is doing well. And so on, and so on, _ad infinitum_. The
Hanbury Street Women's Shelter is not a cheerful spot to visit on a
dull and rainy evening.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Henry Head assures Dr. Rivers that he is nothing like Dr. Yealland. He adds that Sassoon's integrity would have prevented him from staying at Craiglockhart once his protest failed, regardless of the psychologist's actions. Dr. Rivers expresses his worry that Sassoon is returning to war in order to die, citing his lack of concern about the future. However, Rivers also realizes that treating Sassoon has changed his life. He recounts another incident that has had a large impact on his perspective. He explains to Head that when he was traveling in the Solomon Islands, he mapped kinship networks and cultural practices by asking people what they would do with a large windfall of money. Eventually, the native people turned the question around and asked Dr. Rivers what he would do with the same riches. The psychologist was forced to admit that he didn't have anyone to share the money with, which struck the islanders as absurd. This forced Rivers to realize both how lonely he was and the inherent contrivance of systematic English superiority. Native habits were as strange to Rivers as his English habits were to the natives. In the aftermath of that conversation, Dr. Rivers decided to embrace cultural relativism and to try to connect more with others. Dr. Rivers returns to Craiglockhart for Anderson and Sassoon's board hearings. He briefly meets with each soldier, noting that Anderson has grown more dependent and Sassoon more resigned. Meanwhile, Sassoon reveals that he suspects Owen has developed something more than platonic feelings for him. During Anderson's board hearing, Rivers helps to secure the doctor a position in the War Office bureaucracy, away from the blood of either the battle field or a civilian medical practice. Next, Dr. Rivers argues to the board that Sassoon should return to the front because he has renounced his dangerous ideas. When interviewed, however, Sassoon denies that he has changed his opinion about the war, emphasizing that he holds his ideals firmer than ever. Nevertheless, the lieutenant insists on returning to France. Given his talents and his fitness, both physical and emotional, the board agrees to let Sassoon go. After the hearing, Sassoon and Dr. Rivers meet to say goodbye. The psychologist tells Sassoon that he can blame his decision to return on him, but Sassoon rejects the offer. The lieutenant admits that he lied to the board about no longer having nightmares, explaining that they have actually intensified since Dr. Rivers's departure. Dr. Rivers tells him not to take unnecessary risks, but Sassoon thinks to himself that he might. They part on good but depressing terms. As he is leaving, Sassoon thanks the board members, instantly reminding Dr. Rivers of Callan thanking Dr. Yealland. As he fills out the day's paperwork, Dr. Rivers marvels as to how much Sassoon has changed him, even though it was the doctor who was tasked with changing Sassoon. After treating Sassoon, Rivers now rejects the military values he once championed, concluding, "a society that devours its own young deserves no automatic or unquestioning allegiance". The psychologist ponders the contradiction between Sassoon's hardened pacifism and his desire to return to war and becomes more convinced than ever that Sassoon's decision is not just a juvenile rebellion against authority, but rather, the reflection of a "genuine and very deep desire for death". The doctor thinks that if Sassoon does not die he will have a serious mental breakdown. He flips through to Sassoon's file and finds that he can write nothing more about this man than "Nov. 26, 1917. Discharged to duty".