T 47985 January, 1919 When the Boys Come Home HE writer was in New York when the great ship Leviathan discharged a cargo of nearly 9000 returning soldiers, many of them wounded. Every day of our stay in the gay city of Gotham, one or more ships came in with their load of soldiers from France. The great flood is on, and already our boys are coming back to "the little old home town" which they left amid tears only a few short months ago. How different the homecoming! Mothers, sweethearts and wives are today bubbling over with joy and laughter, as they were overflowing with sorrow when the boys went away. Some of these will never return but, even for them, there is a sort of joy in the hearts of those dear to them because they faced the great crisis and died like men. And, now, that the boys are coming home again, what are we going to do with them? Are we simply going to put them back in their old jobs and let it go at that? For many, perhaps most, this will be the answer to the question; but, there are thousands of our young men who can not be disposed of thus easily. They have seen another world and through contact with Life thousands of other men in this country and As physicians, we know that these boys have helped us to settle some great problems of life and disease; and they know it. Most of them are better men physically than they were when they went away. They have learned to stand straight; they have put on weight and strength or rid themselves of superfluous fat. They have been guarded against venereal disease and protected against the ravages of strong drink. From a physical point view, army life is an ideal life. It makes stronger men, and, we believe, in some respects at least, better men. Are we going to let all this go by default when the boys come home? No, we can not permit our boys to fall back again into the old ruts. What we have gained we must not lose. We believe that there will be a demand for more thoughtful supervision of the youth of our nation. The boys themselves will demand it. They have seen the wisdom of physical training in their own lives, and they will demand it for others. While there is no need for a standing army in the United States and militarism, as such, must be at an end, there is a need for physical training like that given in the army; and, for this reason if for no other, we predict that some form of universal training will be provided. One of the revelations of the draft system was the enormous amount of curable disease from which our young men are suffering-bad tonsils, bad teeth, hernias, varicocele, fallen arches, and underweight. Some system of training is needed to make men and women out of the millions of physically imperfect derelicts who go through life as cripples when they might be strong men and women. We predict that universal training for the future will take into account not only the physically sound, but those who are partially sound, so that it may be corrective of the entire life of the nation. The social diseases must be eliminated. That is another of the lessons of the war. We must rid the nation of the habit of strong drink, of venereal disease, and of all other excesses that sap vitality. These are reforms which are bound to come and in which the medical profession is vitally interested. In the industrial world, revolutionary changes are in progress. The writer suspects that our young men will bring back from Europe many ideas that to most of us will seem revolutionary. These ideas will be carried into the remote hamlets and will be discussed around every wayside country store. Just what effect this exchange of ideas between the old world and the new will have upon our social life, no one can tell; but, we have faith to believe that in the long run this effect will be good. The Great World War marks the end of a great age and the beginning of a still greater one. As the last fifty years were characterized by an industrial growth that will remain one of the world's marvels, so, we may hope that the next generation will see the awakening of a great spiritual revolution that will mean far more for the enrichment of life than the railroad, the telegraph, the telephone, the flying machine and the submarine. It will be interesting to swap opinions with the boys about such things as these and to find out from them what kind of world they want to live in in the next fifty years. They have helped "make the world safe for democracy". What is their idea as to the meaning of the word "democracy"? We may find to our surprise that our boys know far more about these things than we do ourselves; and, naturally, the man who has lost a leg or an eye in a great cause will be asking himself and his neighbors whether the investment has paid out. Even a good job, or a public office, or a neat little farm, properly stumped and drained and financed by the Government, may not seem to him like quite pay enough for this loss. What will the great sacrifices in blood and treasure bring for compensation, in the way of happiness, opportunity, and growth for the men and women of the future? The medical profession has sent a larger percentage of its membership into active service than any other. One doctor in five has worn Uncle Sam's uniform. More physicians have sacrificed their lives in proportion to their numbers than any other profession or trade. Not only have they stood beside the boys on the battlefield, but they have fought pestilence at home, where the risks were even greater than they were over there. We wish we might give to the returning men of our profession that full tribute of praise that is in our hearts. In this war, as in every war, the doctor has risked most and sacrificed most, and in this war as in no other war, he has accomplished most. War is essentially and fundamentally destructive: medicine is preservative. Not thousands merely, but millions of soldiers owe their lives today to our profession. This, though true, may soon be forgotten. At this time there is no reason why the medical profession should not emphasize this great truth, if in so doing it can bring home to the universal consciousness the importance of the great preservative art for which we as physicians stand. When the boys come home, the medical profession should make itself felt in every community. The great discoveries achieved on the battlefield should be carried to every nook and corner of America and made to |