Somebody gave a glass of neat whisky to two wounded men at a garden party in Tottenham. Both were drunk when the brake came to take them home, and one died on the way.

Three wounded soldiers at Oxford were overcome by four bottles of rum smuggled into the hospital by visitors, and one of the men died.

A wounded soldier asked for two hours’ leave, came back in four hours drunk with whisky, and died after a terrible night in the hospital.

Two limbless soldiers were found helplessly drunk on the pavement at Brighton. A publican was fined £20.

A wounded soldier, mentioned in despatches, was charged with causing the death of a soldier with whom he had been drinking. Reeling under a heavy blow, the injured man was helped to bed, but when the bugle sounded in the morning he was dead.

A soldier, aged 29, with a gunshot wound in his arm, died from alcohol at Oxford. One Sunday night he and two other wounded soldiers consumed four bottles of rum brought into the hospital.

Three soldiers in hospital uniform were found lying helplessly drunk on the tramlines of Sheffield. Two were back from the Dardanelles.

Seamen on a ship bringing wounded to England from Boulogne were so drunk that they interfered with the stretcher bearers, and one fell across a wounded soldier lying on deck.

There was a paralysed and helpless man who was found hopelessly drunk in hospital after his friends had visited him.

An officer who has trained hundreds of men for the ambulance corps declared that a large percentage of wounded are in a very nervous condition, in which alcohol means collapse and almost certain death.

Lying helpless at a London station, moaning on the ground in drunken delirium, was a lad in hospital blue who had, in truth, been wounded by his friends. Drink was taking him again through the worst of his experiences, and his mental pain was pitiable to see.

Two drunken soldiers from Gallipoli made what a doctor described as the most savage attack he ever saw on a civilian. They held a young man’s head against a wall and pounded him unmercifully.

A party of soldiers were seriously injured in a struggle to arrest a drunken private at Pontefract. The publican called on the men in his taproom to rescue the private, but the sergeants drove them off.

A sergeant of a Welsh regiment, invited to drink by friends in Waterloo Road, was picked up as he lay senseless, his pulse beating feebly, his eyes wide open, and his body starving with cold.

A drunken man rushed from a publichouse and kicked a soldier unconscious. The military police, chasing the man, were stoned. Four soldiers were injured, one having his head cut open, and the military were ordered to clear the place with fixed bayonets.

The medical officer in charge of the Mental Block of a large military hospital said to the Colonel: “I have the worst job of all, and it is through Drink, Drink, Drink! Men recover fairly soon from shell shock, but officers, especially the younger ones, who habitually take wines and spirits, are subject to relapses every few days. It is awful!”

Of the thirty war hospitals in Hertfordshire, with 8000 men passing through them in the first thirty months of the war, there is not one that has not had trouble with drink.

A doctor from a Canadian hospital said a large percentage of their troops had had to be sent back to Canada rendered permanently insane through the action of alcohol.