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58 To any writer of mystery stories in search of a good opening for a tale I recommend what happened aboard the U.S.S. Spica during three days in December a year ago. One morning a gunner's mate was telephoning on the forecastle. Suddenly those around him saw him sway, as though overcome by dizziness. Then he fell forward on his face in a dead faint. One of the ship's hospital corpsmen came, administered first aid, and, when the man regained consciousness, helped him down to the sick bay.

The gunner's mate was a healthy lad, aged twenty-two, who had an excellent health record. The doctor's examination disclosed nothing to cause him to have an attack of vertigo and no injury except a bruise over his right eye resulting from his fall. He could not remember ever having fainted before. Presently he developed all the symptoms associated with shock — pallor, a rapid, feeble pulse, low blood pressure, and a cold, clammy skin.

The Spica's medical officer put him in the hospital under observation.

Next day a fireman on watch in the fireroom exhibited the same symptoms. He, too, fell forward in a faint, bruising his face considerably. He was carried to the sick bay, where it was discovered he had the same shock symptoms as the gunner's mate. He, too, was hospitalized.

Meanwhile, an undercurrent of horror ran through the U.S.S. Spica. What was this mysterious malady which had struck the ship? It lacked two days of Christmas which, even in wartime, is always a season for some festivity aboard ship. And here were two members of the crew struck down by an illness the doctor could not diagnose. The question each man asked his mates was: Who will get it next?

The doctor ordered an examination of the patients' stools for occult blood. The test was positive. It was clear, therefore, that both men had suffered a hemorrhage of the intestinal tract.