A WAR-BLINDED veteran was sitting in a billiard-room, his sightless eyes facing the direction of a self-appointed commentator.
One of the players asked for the billiard rest. The marker went to hand it to him. He turned round and the butt end, hitting the blind man on the forehead, laid him out.
Three weeks later he was sitting in his garden when his sight returned.
The man, Frank James Doherty, Bridge Road, Letchworth, told the Sunday Dispatch:— "I couldn't believe it, and rubbed my eyes. It was just an illusion, I told myself, but it was true. Still uncertain of my own senses, I sent for my doctor, who knew me well.
"I believe he thought I was a bit barmy. But after I told him what had happened, and he had tested my sight, he confirmed my statement that I could see."
"When the rest hit me, I was more annoyed than hurt."Mr. Doherty added. "Someone gave me a drink and I felt better.
"All that happened was that a friend said an eye looked bloodshot. When I got home my mother wanted me to go to the doctor, but I told her not to be silly, went to bed and forgot about it."
Mr. Doherty was wounded on the Somme in 1918, while serving with the King's Own Royal Regiment. His head was shattered and his sight practically destroyed.
The bone structure of his skull was so mutilated that as a last resort surgeons amputated several bones in his legs and grafted them on the wounded skull in an effort to restore it.
They did their job so well that Mr. Doherty now bears hardly any marks of the operation. But all the skill of the surgeons was insufficient to bring back his sight. From that day he was almost stone blind in both eyes.
The house surgeon at the Royal Westminster Ophthalmic Hospital said Mr. Doherty's experience was extraordinary.
"There were, of course, many cases during the war of skull bones being repaired by the grafting on to them of bone from the legs," he said. "But in such cases one would expect the central optic nerve in the brain to be destroyed and sight permanently lost."
"I do not know of any other instance of sight being restored to a war veteran in this manner after so long a period."
MR. DOHERTY'S case brings to mind the singular fact that blind men who played billiards before losing their sight are capable of retaining an enjoyable interest in the game. This must be greatly enhanced by the kind assistance of a knowledgeable commentator, but it is possible for a blind man to find it worth while to attend a billiard match quite on his own account.
A blind man of this type was a frequent patron when John Roberts was at his zenith. A fine player before he lost his sight, he said that he could hear enough to be able to follow the game with interest. We all know the unmistakable click of the half-ball shot; a trained ear can tell when a long loser from hand is" scratched " without looking at the balls. From this it would seem that the super-sensitive hearing of the blind may be able to distinguish other ball-to-ball contacts, if not with consistent accuracy, at least with sufficient sense of realism to enjoy the game.
We hope so most sincerely; it is a fine thought that our great game, in which sight plays so decisive a part, is not altogether a blank to those whose sight is no more. Once, we remember, but only once, a blind man actually played billiards.
He was a war-blinded colonial, a warrant officer from overseas, and he set to work on the theory that by passing his sensitive fingers over the balls without actually touching them, he could tell how they were placed well enough to plan and play a shot. It was a long and pathetic struggle, but he most certainly scored some shots in this extraordinary manner. Evidently, however, the effort was too great for the reward. We heard no more of this blind cueman after witnessing his one attempt to play.
In the above connection, it is interesting to note that T.B.H. made a fine effort on behalf of the Royal Eye Hospital at eighteen of their London Halls last month. The management gave 25 per cent, of the takings from one table at each hall and installed collecting boxes. At the time of going to press, Mr. T. Clarke, Secretary of T.B.H. and the hospital authorities are busy counting up the money.