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BMJ 2004;329:1111 (6 November), doi:10.1136/bmj.329.7474.1111-a
| The first 150 words of the full text of this article appear below. |
The generation that I think I most respect is dying out. Throughout my career I have listened to the stories of old people who lived through extraordinary times. They were touched by a kind of insouciant nobility of the kind caught only on the edge of reluctant sentences. The man, put ashore from the Hood with appendicitis, still guilty about being an accidental survivor. The code breakers and spies who kept their secrets all their lives merely because they had said they would do so. Their memories are being lost and it is like unique wine being poured down a drain. I feel that, though I cup my hands, their memories flow through my fingers and away.
The stories come rarely. In a distant voice they recall a momentary event, neglected for decades, a moment pivotal and poignant. It is the place given up in the lifeboat, the moment of
Kevin Barraclough, general practitioner
Painswick, Gloucestershire
Israeli students are refusing to perform intimate examinations on anaesthetised women without their informed consent.