A STUDY IN SCARLET Simplified Edition

PART 1 , Chapter 1 - MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES

PART - 1

Being a Reprint from the Reminiscences of John H. Watson, M.D., Late of the Army Medical Department

Chapter - 1

MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES

In 1878, I earned my Doctor of Medicine degree from the University of London and went to Netley to train as a military surgeon. After finishing my training, I was assigned to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as an Assistant Surgeon. The regiment was in India, and by the time I arrived, the second Afghan war had started. When I landed in Bombay, I learned that my regiment had moved further into enemy territory. I followed and finally joined them in Candahar.

The campaign brought honors and promotions to many soldiers, but for me, it brought only trouble. I was moved from my brigade and attached to the Berkshires. I served in the deadly battle of Maiwand, where I was hit by a Jezail bullet. This bullet shattered my shoulder bone and grazed a major artery. My orderly, Murray, saved me by throwing me on a packhorse and bringing me safely to the British lines.

After this, I was sent with many wounded soldiers to the base hospital in Peshawar. I began to recover and was able to walk around the wards and enjoy the verandah, but then I was struck by enteric fever, a severe illness common in India. My condition was so bad that doctors thought I might die. When I finally started to get better, I was so weak and thin that the medical board decided I should return to England immediately. I was sent back on the troopship Orontes and arrived in Portsmouth a month later, with my health badly damaged and allowed nine months to try to recover.

With no family in England and a small income, I was free to live as I wished. I ended up in London, staying at a private hotel in the Strand. My life was uncomfortable and aimless, and I spent my money too freely. My financial situation became serious, so I decided to move to cheaper lodgings.

On the day I made this decision, I met Stamford, a former colleague from Barts, at the Criterion Bar. Seeing a friendly face in London was a relief. Stamford and I weren't close before, but now I was happy to see him, and he seemed glad to see me too. I invited him to lunch at the Holborn, and we went together in a hansom cab.

Stamford noticed I looked thin and asked what I had been doing. I briefly explained my experiences. By the time I finished, we had arrived at the Holborn.

"Poor devil!" Stamford said sympathetically after hearing about my troubles. "What are you doing now?"

"Looking for a place to stay," I replied. "I'm trying to find comfortable rooms at a reasonable price."

"That's funny," Stamford said, "you're the second person today who has told me that. The first was someone working at the chemical lab at the hospital. He was upset because he couldn't find anyone to share some nice but expensive rooms with him."

"Really?" I said. "If he needs someone to share the rooms and the cost, I'd be interested. I'd rather have a roommate than live alone."

Stamford looked at me curiously. "You don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said. "You might not like him as a constant companion."

"Why? What's wrong with him?"

"Oh, nothing bad. He's just a bit odd in his ideas-an enthusiast in some scientific fields. He's a decent fellow though."

"Is he a medical student?" I asked.

"No, he isn't," Stamford said. "I'm not sure what he plans to do. He knows a lot about anatomy and is an excellent chemist, but he hasn't taken formal medical classes. His studies are irregular and unusual, but he has learned a lot of strange knowledge that could surprise his teachers."