A Tribute to the Lik Lik Doctors
pp. 39-41 · Read in the full issue
By Eric Feldt
THE recent deaths of two well known Medical Assistants, Cyril Lambert and Robert Findlay Armstrong, call for a tri bute to them and to the other ‘Lik Lik Doctors” of the Territory —a hard-working body of men whose deeds remain unsung.
Between the wars, the Mandated Ferritory had a remarkable medical service, whose record is insuffic iently appreciated.
The organisation consisted, in general, of a District Hospital, with i Medical Officer in charge, and with two or three Medical Assist in ts under him. In the villages were Medical Tultuls, who gave element iry first-aid treatment and brought nore serious patients to the hos )ital.
In sub-Districts, a Senior Medical Assistant was in charge of the hos )ital with, sometimes, a Junior mder him. As the Doctor had to >e always available for serious jases, this resulted in his being ;ied fairly closely to the hospital md the outside work fell on the Medical Assistants.
Hospitals, of course, are a fetish )f the Australian public. A public lealth service is judged by its hos )itals, by the number of its beds, he amount of technical equipment,
by the staff and the qualifications of its doctors.
This is all very well in its way; but in New Guinea, where roads are scarce and the native popula tion scattered in small villages, it is only half the story. In addition to hospitals, medicine must be brought to the natives themselves to achieve a public health service.
It was brought to them by the Medical Assistants, the “Lik Lik Doctors.”
ADDED to the difficulties of travel, there was a deep-rooted native aversion to going to hospital which had to be overcome. Every native belief made the patient cling to his own surroundings. He dis trusted the strange atmosphere and the novel methods of European medicine until results gave him confidence.
Added to these initial supersti tions, the hard facts meant that only serious cases were sent to hos pital, of whom many died —from which the native mind soon in verted it to mean that if one went to hospital, one died.
It was against this background of belief, as well as the difficulties of treatment, that the Lik Lik Doctor had to struggle.
Medical patrols went out, drugs
and instruments being carried in boxes, as well as food and patrol equipment. Walking itself was a major feat, over some of the country encountered.
Conditions under which treat ment had to be given were primit ive in the extreme. Natives could
not explain their symptoms, and would not carry out the treatment given them, unless watched. Only slowly, in the early twenties, was confidence established.
Work was hard and thankless, and the Medical Assistant’s job was not particularly attractive, as he could not be promoted beyond a
certain grade, but must always be junior to a Doctor.
But they carried on, until in the thirties yaws and hookworm were under control, malaria was being treated and ulcers were fewer than ever before. This preventative medi cine was probably the greatest benefit that the native population
received in those years; and, al though directed by Doctors, it was. mainly carried out by Medical!
Assistants.
OF such was Cyril Lambert. Ij remember his arrival on the?
Sepik in 1924. his first out station. He arrived wearing a collar and tie which, with his slicked back, wavy, fair hair and tenor voice, made us wonder. But when L saw him stripped for the evening; shower, the rippling muscles under the white skin corrected any mis apprehension. Later, we heard that! in Rabaul he had been called!
“Pansy”; but not to his face.
Cyril loved good living, and par ticularly a cigar, but cheerfully put! up with every discomfort and hard ship that came his way.
He was sent to the goldfields sooni after the rush to Edie Creek, and rendered sterling service in theE dysentery outbreak among the labourers there.
Then he was carried away by the lure of gold, resigned, and went) prospecting. The search was a fail ure, and he rejoined the Adminis tration, losing all his seniority, but) with never a complaint against the luck.
Though years over age, he served in Angau during the Second World War, and retired only a few months before his death.
Bob Armstrong joined the Ad
ministration in 1921, and served Ln most parts of the Territory. His short, rotund figure was well Imown, and his sense of humour even better. He was a bom leg puller and, often, had newcomers istening wide-eyed to his fic titious tales, told in a dry, matter- Df-fact voice that disarmed sus picion.
His mimicry, too, was convincing, )ften combined with an incongru >us concept—as in his imaginary :onversation in broken English, importing to be two German Mis lionaries discussing the chances of various horses in the Melbourne 2up.
In a land where the miseries are ill too common, his was a welcome iresence on an outstation, particu arly coupled with his competence it treating the tropical maladies phich beset us all, white as well as irown. He, too, died soon after re irement. rHE world moves on, and the future of the Medical Assist ant is clouded. Natives are icing trained and will one day take he place of the Medical Assist ants who have filled the gap in he past.
But the Lik Lik Doctors can look iack at their record with pride. By ioing their own jobs well, they aved countless lives, engendered onfidence and made life better forth living for natives and whites like.
It is no mean performance that .ik Lik Doctors such as Bob Arm trong and Cyril Lambert, have left ehind them. New Guinea is a etter place because they lived.