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Arthur Philip Booth Waind

Former consultant general physician Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria (b 11 February 1915; q Leeds 1938; DSC, MD Leeds 1946, MRCP 1947, FRCP 1969), d 4 January 2005.

Philip Waind was a private and very modest man whose lifetime was defined by exemplary service and dedication to his country, profession, and family.

He was born in Carshalton, Surrey, an only child, but never knew his father, who was killed in action in 1916 during the Battle of the Somme. In infancy he moved with his mother back to her native Yorkshire, where he was brought up in York and educated at Archbishop Holgate Grammar School. He went on to Leeds University, from where he graduated MB ChB in 1938. He held house posts at Leeds General Infirmary until 1939 when, at the outbreak of war, he enrolled in the navy, a choice he is said to have made (overoptimistically in the event) because he thought it would be safer than the trenches! He became a surgeon lieutenant.

His first action on 10 April 1940 saw his destroyer, HMS Hardy, involved in an attack on Narvik in Norway. The ship was shelled and badly damaged such that the crew had to abandon their grounded, burning vessel. Despite continuing attack from the German forces and having sustained a severe shoulder wound, Philip tended the injured aboard and got the severely wounded captain to shore, caring for him until he died later that day. The captain was awarded a posthumous Victoria Cross, while Philip received the Distinguished Service Cross for his courage and devotion to duty.

He next saw action later in 1940 in the ill-fated defence of Calais. His destroyer was supporting ground forces, but as the casualties on the beach mounted, he volunteered to be ferried ashore to attend to the wounded and dying with little or no surgical equipment or medical help. He assisted with the evacuation of over 100 wounded men, but when his destroyer withdrew on Admiralty orders, he was left behind and taken prisoner. He was twice mentioned in dispatches for his selfless action.

Most of his time in various prison camps was spent as a doctor attending his fellow prisoners. He was a prisoner of war for four years, eventually gaining repatriation in July 1944. Sadly his mother died while he was in prison.

Such was his quiet and modest nature, very few of even his longstanding colleagues knew of his wartime exploits and the just recognition they received.

After the war he pursued his medical career and quickly obtained his MD and MRCP. He held various registrar posts in South Yorkshire and during this time met his wife, Catherine (also a Leeds medical graduate), while she was his house physician. They married in 1949 and within a few months (1950) he was appointed consultant general physician in Barrow-in-Furness, where he worked until his retirement in 1979.

He believed passionately in the NHS and he and his colleagues were very much the early pioneers of the service in Furness. He was a fine physician, much respected by his hospital and GP colleagues for his great diagnostic acumen combined with a caring attitude towards his patients, clearly dedicating the same devotion to service as he had during the war years.

Apart from his medical work, he also served the local community for many years as a member of the board of the Furness Building Society, rising to the post of vice chairman, and he was a past president of the local Rotarians.

He loved Shakespeare and reading history. He was not a natural sportsman, but greatly enjoyed a number of outdoor pursuits, particularly sailing, tennis, and golf, and, to a lesser extent, fell walking.

Despite the prodigious professional workload he set himself, he was very much a family man and is survived by Catherine, their five children (one of whom is a local GP), and 14 grandchildren. A reflection of the high regard in which he was held by his family was provided by his eldest son at the funeral. This was a quotation from Hamlet who is describing his own father following his funeral:

"He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look on his like again."

A fitting epitaph. [Malcolm Palmer]