Other fellow passengers were seven physicians bound, like myself, for the international conference of Red Cross Societies at Cannes: William H. Welch, of Johns Hopkins, typifying to us all the wonderful accomplishments of the Rockefeller Institute; L. Emmett Holt, the medical foster-father of thousands of American babies; Hermann M. Biggs, who, in his official capacities, has lifted public hygiene into a recognized requirement of modern civilization; Colonel Russell, Chief of the Division of Infectious Diseases in the U. S. Surgeon-General’s office; Edward R. Baldwin, head of the well-known Saranac Lake Sanatorium for Tuberculosis; Fritz B. Talbot, of Boston, famous as a specialist in children’s diseases; and Samuel M. Hammill, head of the Pennsylvania Child-Welfare Board. With these was Mr. Chanler P. Anderson, ex-solicitor of the State Department.
We took our meals at the same table and used these often wasted hours to weave precious strands of friendship that can best be created amongst people animated by the same aims and sharing the obligations of service. At my suggestion, we decided to hold daily meetings to prepare for submission to the Conference a plan which would embody the combined thoughts of our entire party. Dr. Welch had intended to devote his time at sea to writing an article on his old associate, Dr. Osler, but rather regretfully postponed his task and accepted his usual position--that of chairman. Dr. Holt was elected secretary so that, with Dr. Biggs as vice-chairman, we transferred to our gatherings the precision and expert management of the Rockefeller Institute.
Dr. Welch’s first thought has always been of public service. Before our country entered the war, he went to the President and suggested making ready our medical practitioners and hospitals for service. Mr. Wilson appointed him to the Council of National Defense, and some day the public will be surprised to learn how much he did toward that phase of preparedness. On the _Leviathan_ he brought out what was best in us and proved, at the age of sixty-eight, the fallacy of the popular interpretation of Dr. Osler’s statement about the end of human usefulness at forty-five.
All of the physicians were animated by this same high motive: not to commercialize their talents, but to devote much of them to research work for the benefit of mankind. As all of them were recognized authorities in their respective fields, they stated their experience and knowledge in so convincing a manner that it was like reading the last word written on the subject.