Remembering a Veteran: Dr. Elsie Dalyell, OBE, Balkan Front Bacteriologist

Dr. Dalyell Before the War

By James Patton

Elsie Jean Dalyell (1881–1948), a pathologist, was born on 13 December 1881 at Newtown, Sydney, the second daughter of mining engineer James M. Dalyell and Jean, (née McGregor). Elsie was educated at Sydney Girls' High School, after which in 1897 she was hired by the Department of Public Instruction as a pupil-teacher. Sponsored by the Department, she completed the first year in arts and science at the University of Sydney but had to withdraw in 1905 due to a medical emergency. She recovered and left teaching, transferring to second-year medicine at the Women's College at Sydney, where in 1909 she received a Bachelor of Medicine (M.B.) with first-class honours, and then a Master of Surgery (Ch.M.) in 1910. 

Elsie was one of the first female resident medical officers at Sydney’s Royal Prince Alfred Hospital, then served as a demonstrator in pathology—the first female on the full-time staff of the medical school. In 1912, she won the Beit Fellowship, becoming the first woman to earn this distinction in Australia. With this bursary, she was able to study pediatric gastroenteritis at the Lister Institute of Preventative Medicine in London.

She was caught up in the patriotic fervor of 1914 and joined Lady Wimborne's Serbian Relief Fund unit. She went to Skopje (Uskub) in Macedonia to help with the 1915 typhus and relapsing fever pandemic, which killed an estimated 150,000 people, including about 36 percent of the treating doctors. 

Skopje at the Time of the Great War

In Skopje, Elsie worked in the fever hospital, more than one mile from the town's main hospital. She wrote of her experience at some length:

Our building was meant for a barracks, but was hastily utilised for a hospital. The dining room is a clean bare cellar with a table and the inevitable packing cases as chairs. My own room (the last doctor in it had typhus) contains my bed, a packing case... my cabin trunk and a canvas chair. We have no sitting-room... I have over one hundred patients who suffer from every imaginable fever – typhus, typhoid, scarlet, diphtheria, and a dozen others not yet classified. The suffering of the sick and wounded and the appalling waste of life here are beyond description, but the hospitals are getting typhus under control. 

Four of our staff have typhus and all are recovering, but we are very shorthanded. Our staff consists of two men doctors and myself, and we feel that we need the strength of ten to get through the day's work. For the wards I wear a shapeless bag-like garment devised by myself. It has feet and legs and ties round the neck. Then I have a close white cap, a face mask, rubber gloves and boots. Yesterday I discharged a veteran Servian (Serbian) soldier, the scarred hero of a hundred fights and could find him no clothes but a Servian military coat and a split skirt made in London. He was thankful for even those, and with the addition of a blanket for overcoat set out for his home... The Servian soldiers are simply splendid, fearless and clever, and of fine physique... 

In spite of the fine situation, clear air, brilliant blue skies, with glorious snow-capped mountains in the distance, the terrible problem here is one of sanitation... in this fever-ridden country owing to the lack of sewage systems.... I must run and help look after 104 fresh patients. Some will have to go on the floor. Thank goodness the nurses are trained and skilful, and the orderlies are a credit to their colleges.’

Serbian Soldiers in Skopje

Dalyell was safely back in the UK, serving at the Addington Park War Hospital, Croydon, when Skopje was overrun by the Bulgarians in October 1915. In 1916 she joined the Scottish Women's Hospitals for Foreign Service unit at Royaumont, France. Later she was allowed to join the Royal Army Medical Corps, serving in Malta and at Salonika, where she was the bacteriologist with No. 63 General Hospital, situated in the Durband Pass. Press reports claimed that she was the first female to hold such a job.

She served in the British Salonika Force until July 1919, with a secondment in December 1918 to No. 82 General Hospital, attached to the occupation force in Constantinople, where there was a serious epidemic that proved to be cholera.

No. 63 Hospital on the Salonika Front

In June 1919, in the Birthday Honours List, she was appointed to the Order of the British Empire (OBE), the highest honour bestowable (at the time) upon an Australian female. She had also been Mentioned in Dispatches (MiD) twice by FM (then-Gen.) Sir George Milne GCB, GCMG, DSO, KStJ (1866–1948), commander of the British Salonika Force (1916–18), and she was also decorated by the Kingdom of Serbia.

Representing the Lister Institute and the British Food Mission, she went to Vienna in August 1919 to work as a senior researcher on a team studying deficiency diseases in children. She later described this group as "the most scientific infant clinic" with "the most highly trained staff in the world." In 1923 her team published what has been called "the most complete study of human rickets prophylaxis ever undertaken." 

In appearance she was of medium height and heavy build with broad forehead, light blue eyes, "cream" complexion and "apricot" hair. When in Vienna she adopted a mannish style of dress which, with minor seasonal variations, she wore henceforth. She read "omnivorously" and collected objets d'art, especially etchings.  All who knew her agreed that she was one of those rare beings whom it was a privilege to know.

In 1923,  at the conclusion of a lecture tour in the U.S., she returned to Australia. Ironically, there was no suitable professional opportunity for her in Sydney. Without personal means, her attempt at private practice in Macquarie Street failed. In January 1924 she signed on as a microbiologist in the Department of Public Health. She wasn’t accorded professional status, and there was little prospect of advancement. Her working  life was circumscribed by  performing endless Wasserman tests for syphilis about which disease, thanks to her war service, she was an acknowledged expert. Between 1925 and 1935 she was on the committee of Sydney’s Rachel Forster Hospital for Women and Children and was partly responsible for founding their venereal diseases clinic, which opened in 1927. 

Rachel Forster Hospital, Sydney 

Due to her declining health, Elsie retired in 1946. She died on 1 November 1948. In recent years, she has been honored by the University of Sydney with the establishment of the Elsie Dalyell Scholars Stream, a university-wide initiative for high-achievers.

Sources: Australian Department of Veteran’s Affairs and The Australian National University’s Australian Dictionary of Biography

In the Midst of Battle Pershing Reorganizes the AEF

 

The Commander of the AEF at Work

Editor's Introduction:  During the period of 8–18 October, when General Pershing's forces were battling well entrenched enemy forces on the Heights on both sides of the Meuse River, the rate of killed and wounded for the American components of the First Army was two to three times greater than for the overall battle. Over those 11 days, 13,200 Americans were killed and 41,800 gassed or wounded. This period tooked a tremendous toll on the General that also led to his re-evaluation of his approach to command and the organization of his forces. 

In one of the best works on the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, Forty-Seven Days, Historian-Archivist Mitch Yockelson described how he approached this critical moment in what was the largest battle America had ever fought thus far in the nation's history:

Pershing's Mood

Pershing began to wonder if and when his army would finally break through the German lines. He didn't want Meuse-Argonne to turn into a lengthy battle as had the Somme, Verdun, or Ypres. Logistical issues had to be overcome, primarily the clogged roads that kept ammunition, food, and other supplies from reaching the Doughboys at the front. More troubling to Pershing was the performance of the division commanders. In his opinion, they lacked the energy and initiative to keep the attacks going. This was true of some generals, and Pershing had and would continue to replace them. But for the most part, they were good commanders who lacked experience leading large bodies of men. Much like Pershing, practically all of them had prior combat experience in Cuba and the Philippines, where they had led companies of a few hundred soldiers at most. 

. . . During one of his frequent trips to the front, Colonel John G. Quekemeyer, Pershing's Mississippi-born aide-de-camp, riding alongside the general in his Cadillac, watched as the AEF commander cover his face with his hands and mumbled, “Frankie...Frankie...My God, sometimes I don't know if I can go on.” Pershing was not one to openly express his feelings, but these were dark times. Perhaps his sadness triggered thoughts of that horrible day in August 1915 when he lost Frankie and the girls [his wife and young daughters].

Fighting on the Cunel Heights by Harvey Dunn

Pershing's dour mood was hardly concealed, and it worried the officers who saw him on a frequent basis. Frederick Palmer recalled that the general's skin had turned pale; the deep desert tan from the Punitive Expedition was now gone. His skin now had a ruddy gray complexion and his eyes were tired from an obvious lack of sleep. Colonel George C. Marshall also saw the anxiety the Meuse-Argonne was taking on Pershing and in his memoirs rattled off some of the key reasons. “Distressingly heavy casualties, disorganized and only partially trained troops, supply problems of every character due to the devastated zone so rapidly crossed, inclement and cold weather, as well as stubborn resistance by the enemy on one of the strongest positions on the Western Front.”

Marshall sided with Pershing that the “officers of high rank” were to blame for First Army's problems. He did not mention any names but implied that those “not in perfect physical condition usually lost the will to conquer and took an exceedingly gloomy view of the situation except when Pershing came around, then they `bucked up' for the period of his visit, only to relapse into further depths of despondency after his departure.” Marshall thought that Pershing “carried himself with an air of relentless determination to push the operation to a decisive victory. His presence inspired confidence and his bearing convinced those with whom he came in contact that the weak-hearted would be eliminated and half measures would not be tolerated.”  

Reorganization

Pershing had indeed taken on too much by running both the AEF and First Army. The weight of such a burden would have impacted any commander. But Pershing was also resilient and smart. On 10 October he announced a change that was in the best interest of his army and was destined to become the turning point of the Meuse-Argonne. Effective 16 October, he was stepping down as First Army commander and would hand over the reins to Major General Hunter Liggett. He would also add a Second Army to be led by III Corps's Major General Robert Bullard. Both were promoted to the rank of lieutenant general. Pershing would oversee both armies as an Army Group commander on par with France's Pétain and Britain's Haig. With the changes at the top, there was a need for corps commander replacements. John L. Hines was taking over III Corps for Bullard. Cameron was demoted from V Corps and took over for Hines at the 4th Division, and replaced by Major General Charles P. Summerall, and Dickman switched from IV Corps to replace Liggett at I Corps.

Other command changes were not as significant but impacted the battlefield. Brigadier General Billy Mitchell would oversee both First and Second Armies' Air Service, while George C. Marshall would directly report to Liggett as assistant chief of operations for First Army. His job, which was still “to work out all the details of the operations,” as one staff officer put it, hadn't changed, so they were in a clear, workable order that could be “read in poor light, in the mud and rain.” 

Leaving First Army was a bold but necessary adjustment. Pershing apparently came to this decision on his own accord and consulted no one. “You never know what is in the C-in-C's mind,” one of Black Jack's aides wrote, “and how it is coming out. When it comes, it comes quick and definite—just like the outburst of a bombardment for an offensive which had been weeks in preparation.” Frederick Palmer added that Pershing “listened to many counselors; but the decisive counsels he held behind the locked doors of his own mind.” Palmer supposed that “those who thought they knew what he was going to do knew least.”

First Army needed a boost, and Hunter Liggett was the right commander to provide it. He had all the necessary traits to lead an army that was now more than a million men in strength. A brilliant tactician and corps commander, Liggett impressed Pershing and, for that matter, everyone else in the AEF and French Army. On the evening of 10 October, Liggett met with Pershing to discuss his new assignment. He recounted very little about the meeting, other than that the commanding general sounded optimistic, telling him “that if we and our Allies could keep up the gait the war would be ended by the close of the year.”

Two days later Liggett journeyed to Souilly by rail with Colonel Stackpole, and the men dined with Pershing and Colonel Hugh Drum on the train. Pershing made it clear he was still in charge and as army group commander would oversee operations. Sounding much like Foch, Pershing said from that point there would be no letup in the fighting. The next phase of MeuseArgonne would strike directly at the Kriemhilde Stellung, destroy enemy communications, and take Mézières; it was essentially the same battle plan since the one given on 26 September. Afterward, the party retired to Pershing's office for further talk about the next attack. Frederick Palmer was close by in a “stuffy little anteroom” at Souilly when Liggett emerged from the meeting, “his face glowing; his eyes sparkling as though he had seen a vision come true.”  

A few minutes later one of Pershing's aides scurried up the stairs to give his boss a message that had just come by telephone from Paris: the new German chancellor, Prince Maximilian of Baden, had provisionally accepted President Wilson's Fourteen Points for peace. Perhaps the war would soon be over. In theory, Pershing now had more time not only to run the entire AEF but also to devote to his roles a diplomat and politician, essential duties when dealing with the other Allied commanders. 

As the AEF endured a period of organizational changes, First Army had not let up in the fighting. The next phase of Meuse-Argonne started on 14 October [two days before the command changes were to officially take place].

Hunter Liggett, First Army's New Commander

Liggett at First Army

Now at the helm of First Army, Hunter Liggett quickly encountered the problems associated with command, the very ones that had kept Pershing awake at night. Leading I Corps had been comparatively easy since he had been concerned with only the divisions assigned to him. Yet now, after 13 days of almost continuous fighting, First Army had taken a severe beating, and casualties tallied somewhere around 75,000 killed and wounded. First Army hospitals were completely overwhelmed treating soldiers who were shot up or gassed. Adding to the misery of war was a widespread influenza outbreak. In the Argonne that autumn, cold, tired, and wet troops were especially vulnerable to the wrath of the “Spanish Lady.” First Army doctors reported almost 150,000 cases of the flu in mid-October, overwhelming the field and general hospitals.

Pershing had a mild bout with the flu the week before the Argonne jump-off but was able to weather the illness. A month later, he came down with a more severe case.

Lieutenant General Liggett immediately began to “tighten up” First Army, which was getting sloppy in regard to “inattention and carelessness in saluting and straggling,” among other problems that one AEF inspector pointed out. Straggling especially had gotten out of hand. Liggett claimed that roughly 100,000 troops had left their units during the first month of the battle. He was exaggerating, but the point was well made: too many soldiers were heading to the rear. 

. . . On Wednesday 16 October, Pershing met with Foch at his Bombon headquarters to go over the changes in American command. General Weygand was there, too, and as usual their conversation was uncomfortable and heated. It seemed that Foch had forgotten what he had told McAndrew and Conner the week before [about the slowness of the Americans advance], and lectured Pershing about the Americans' lack of progress in the Argonne, telling him that “results are the only way to judge by: that if an attack is well planned and well executed it succeeds with small losses; that if it is not well planned and well executed the losses are heavy and there is no advance.” Your change in command was not important," Foch pointed out, “so long as you keep things going at the front.”  . . .  

In seventeen days we have engaged twenty-six German divisions,” Pershing noted. “I shall continue my attacks until the Germans give way.” Pausing for a moment, Pershing asked, “Provided, of course, that this is Marshal Foch's desire?”

“By all means,” said Foch.  

Excerpted from Forty-Seven Days by Mitchell Yockelson (Order HERE)