Surgeon at Arms

representations to the proper authorities. And I can hardly pretend otherwise than that my views were bound to carry some weight.’
    He opened the file. My God! thought Graham, he’s more of my cuttings than I’ve collected myself. He imagined Haileybury painstakingly snipping each one out, muttering to himself and shaking his head sorrowfully.
    ‘Very well, the annex has been getting some publicity,’ said Graham. ‘And what of it? It’s cheered the patients up. It’s encouraged my staff to keep working flat out. It’s given the civilian population something to feel proud of. Hasn’t it put up the morale of your own men? At least they know there’s a unit to look after them efficiently, if they get their faces smashed up. It’s made a hell of a difference in the R.A.F., I happen to know for a fact.’
    ‘That isn’t the point,’ said Haileybury.
    ‘You don’t imagine it’s done me any personal good, do you?’ demanded Graham irritably. ‘I’ve neither the desire nor the need to push my own interests. I’m only concerned with those of my patients.’
    ‘I think we know each other’s views on these matters too well for the need of repetition. I will only emphasize that mine have remained quite unchanged by the war.’
    ‘Oh, you’re stupid, ridiculous, blind, smug. Of course I can’t help getting into the papers. I’m part of the scene. Nobody objects if General Montgomery or Vera Lynn or whoever you like gets photographed for the front pages, do they?’
    ‘I think you’re putting it rather extravagantly, Trevose.’
    ‘Then tell me why you’re getting me kicked out? No, don’t bother. I know. Through spite, that’s all.’ Haileybury drew a deep breath. ‘You must be perfectly aware,’ he said calmly, ‘that there has been a great weight of complaint. However understandable your enthusiasm—perhaps even commendable—you have rather created the impression... well, the impression that nobody else in our profession is doing anything for the war at all. It has been brought very sharply to the notice of the Ministry and the Service departments. And to myself personally.’
    ‘By whom? Twelvetrees at Smithers Botham, Graham thought, perhaps even Crampers.
    ‘You might prefer me not to name names. The last time I unwittingly did so, I understand it led to a good deal of remorse on your part.’
    The reference to Tom Raleigh made Graham shift uneasily in the chair. He continued in a more subdued voice, ‘You might at least tell me why the Ministry should have chosen this particular moment to pounce. It couldn’t have come at a more awkward time for me personally.’
    Haileybury reflected that most times were awkward for Trevose personally. ‘I fancy people had to decide when matters had gone a little too far,’ he declared. He paused and added, ‘As I have been frank, will you perhaps let me make my motives clear?’
    Graham nodded curtly.
    ‘I assure you there was no suggestion of spite on my part. Surely you don’t really think that of me? Not in your heart? There was no spite on anybody’s part. But medicine is entering upon difficult times. You must know that, if only from the newspapers. When we raise our eyes from the war, what do we see? The future of our profession is in the balance. The politicos are concocting a large number of recipes for cooking our goose, believe you me. There’s talk of forcing us into some sort of State health scheme—pure socialism.’ Haileybury seemed to shudder. ‘That would never do. We should lose our professional freedom. We should become mere civil serants, with the Government our taskmaster. The doctor-patient relationship, as we have known it for centuries, would be lost for ever.’
    ‘All that’s nothing to do with me.’
    ‘But it is.’ Haileybury leaned forward earnestly, his eyes shining. ‘We shall have to fight these people. Fight them at every turn. And what shall be our weapons? We shall need every scrap of dignity, of integrity, of professional correctitude that we can muster. We must make it plain to the public that we stand above the ordinary commercial motives of life, that we seek no vainglory for ourselves, that we have no thought but for the welfare of our patients. None of us must falter—or appear to falter—from the rigorous discipline we have imposed on ourselves. None of us! We must fight not as individuals, but as a profession. Oh, politicians are slippery people, Trevose. I know. I’ve had dealings