Chapter Fifty-two Thought of Penicillin

  Wang Lianzhang knew that Song Zhe Wu had come to the hospital to visit the wounded, so he led him from the laboratory to the ward, saying as they walked: "This time, the hospital received a total of 1468 wounded soldiers, mostly from the Northwest Army. The hospital didn't have enough wards, but before you arrived, Wang Shouzhang and Meng Xianzhang solved the problem by renting several large car shops in the north of the city to accommodate some of the wounded. It's estimated that another hundred or so will die." Seeing Song Zhe Wu frowning and sighing, he explained: "It's not a problem with our medical skills - these doctors you hired are all quite good, and I'm here too; we can't say we have the best surgical skills in the country, but at least we're one of the best. It's also not that there aren't enough medicines; it's just that neither Chinese nor Western medicine has an effective treatment for inflammation right now, so the wounded who died all died from infection."

  "Special anti-inflammatory medicine?" A flash of light suddenly passed through Song Zhe Wu's mind. Before New Year's Day, when he went to Peking Union to visit his students who were being trained there, he had always felt that he had forgotten something very important, but couldn't think of what it was. Now he finally remembered - penicillin, also known as penicillin.

  In Song Zhiwu's memory, before the 1940s, humans had not yet grasped a drug that could efficiently treat bacterial infections with minimal side effects. At that time, if someone contracted tuberculosis, it meant that person would soon leave this world. To change this situation, researchers conducted long-term exploration, but the breakthrough progress in this area came from an accidental discovery. British scientist Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin due to a fortunate mistake. In the summer of 1928, when Fleming went on vacation, he forgot about the bacteria growing in petri dishes in his laboratory. Three weeks later, when he returned to the lab, he noticed that a golden staphylococcus culture dish had accidentally come into contact with air and had grown a greenish-yellow mold. When observing this culture dish under a microscope, Fleming found that the bacterial colonies around the mold had dissolved. This meant that some substance secreted by the mold could inhibit the bacteria. Subsequent identification showed that the mold was Penicillium notatum, so Fleming named the antibacterial substance it produced penicillin. Unfortunately, Fleming never found a way to extract high-purity penicillin, so he continued to cultivate the Penicillium notatum strain generation after generation. Now it's 1929, and who knows whether Fleming applied for a patent? This penicillin went on to save countless lives in later generations, and many diseases that are now incurable were trivial in the face of this broad-spectrum antibacterial drug.

  Wang Lianzhang saw Song Zhewu stunned, thinking he hadn't heard his words, and nudged him. Song Zhewu, who had come to his senses, grabbed Wang Lianzhang's hand and shook it, saying: "Brother, I know there is a kind of fungal secretion that is an excellent anti-inflammatory drug. If I get the strain, can you purify and process it into medicine?" Wang Lianzhang rolled his eyes and said: "Weng Ge, I think being in office has made you muddle-headed. Have you forgotten that I am a double Ph.D. in surgery and pharmacy?"

  Song Zhe Wu patted his head and laughed, saying: "Look at my memory, how could I forget a big expert like you?" While speaking, Song Zhe Wu thought to himself: "Heaven really hasn't treated me badly! I also have such talent!"

  Two men walked to the ward in the backyard while talking. As soon as they entered the backyard, they heard bursts of laughter coming from these wards. Wang Lianzhang smiled and told Song Zhiwu: "The wounded soldiers have just received compensation for their injuries and are very happy. The wounded soldiers of the Northwestern Army can't help but drool."

  The wounded were not compensated, only later generations knew that each injury would cause huge damage to the physical and mental health of the wounded. Therefore, in the Security Guard Army, as long as they were injured, there was compensation. The Security Guard Army stipulated: one sacrifice on the battlefield would be compensated with 200 yuan, severe injuries resulting in disability would be compensated with 100-200 yuan, and minor injuries would be compensated with 20-100 yuan. This was already far higher than other domestic troops, even higher than the Central Army. But Song Zhiwu still felt it was not enough, he always thought that if he had his own territory, he would bring all the families of soldiers who sacrificed for the Security Guard Army to his territory, and never let them lack food and clothing.

  Song Zhe-wu and Wang Lian-zhang rushed to the ward with the loudest laughter, where a loud voice was enthusiastically telling the story of pursuing the 55th, and several people with Northwestern accents were occasionally arguing a few sentences in discontent.

  Pushing open the thick cotton door curtain and entering the house, a wave of heat hits you in the face. Along both sides of the walls are arranged over thirty beds, each covered with neat bedding. In the center of the room several braziers burn fiercely.

  These lightly wounded soldiers were either sitting or leaning on their beds, with only one left arm injured lieutenant standing in the middle, excitedly recounting the battle. As soon as Song Zhe Wu and Wang Lian Zhang entered, everyone wanted to get out of bed to salute them, but Song Zhe Wu hastily stopped them: "No one is allowed to get out of bed, nor should you salute. You are all wounded soldiers, all heroes of our security army. I came today just to visit you all." These lightly wounded soldiers from the Northwest Army also joined the security army and saw that the security army's wounded soldiers had returned to their beds, so they followed suit, with only the big lieutenant still standing on the ground.

  Here is the translation:

  "King Lianzhang introduced: 'This is Wang De Lian, the captain of the 1st battalion and 2nd regiment. He was originally supposed to be in the officer's ward, but he insisted on coming here.' Song Zhe Wu saw that this big guy looked somewhat familiar, but couldn't quite recall where he had seen him before. The big guy said with embarrassment: 'Commander, it's like this - our company has only two lightly wounded soldiers, and our company's second-in-command is staying here, so I came to take care of him.' 'Second-in-command.' This time Song Zhe Wu remembered: 'Wang Lianzhang, you're the one who was in Yangjiazhuang to rescue Sun Litang, your deputy regiment commander at that time, and surrendered to us - that's right, isn't it? How do you think the Security Army is?' Wang De Lian nodded repeatedly: 'Commander, you have a good memory. I'm indeed that platoon leader. The Security Army has good food, high military pay, and promotions are fair - absolutely no one dares to embezzle military pay.' 'Oh,' Song Zhe Wu said, or rather, the treatment, military pay, and promotion were all quite impressive, and he also wanted these newly arrived Northwestern Army soldiers to hear it. 'Wang Lianzhang, tell me more about how promotions are fair?' Wang De said: 'Those who have good combat skills, fight bravely, care for their comrades, and can read - they will be promoted quickly. It's not like that in Sun Dianying's place. I've worked under both Sun Chuanfang and Sun Dianying, and except for a few individual officers, most of them only recognize money and talent when it comes to promotions.'"

  Song Zhe-wu carefully listened to the wounded soldiers of the Northwest Army and pointed at Wang De's left arm: "How is your injury?" Wang De said carelessly, "It's nothing, I would have returned to my unit long ago. With an injury like this, in Sun Chuan-fang or Sun Dian-ying's place, it would be wrapped up and that's it. Our Baoyi Army takes good care of us, we get medicine and bandages changed, and even get compensation for our injuries." After finishing speaking, he turned to ask the wounded soldiers of the Northwest Army: "Brothers, how is life in the Northwest Army?" A wounded soldier from the Northwest Army replied: "In our Northwest Army, it's just a simple bandage. For light injuries like this, we even have to spend our own money to buy medicine."

  Song Zhe-wu smiled and said to the wounded soldier from the Northwestern Army, "Brother, you've joined the Security Guard Army now, right?" The soldier nodded, "Yes, Commander. Not just me, everyone in this room is." "Good, I welcome you all on behalf of the entire Security Guard Army! However, I need to correct what you said earlier - from now on, don't say 'we Northwestern Army' again. You are all soldiers of our Security Guard Army, no longer part of the Northwestern Army." The wounded soldier from the Northwestern Army replied with embarrassment, "Yes, Commander. I was in the Northwestern Army for two years and can't change my habit overnight." Song Zhe-wu asked further, "What was your position in the Northwestern Army?"

  Here is the translation:

  As soon as Song Zhe Wu asked, the wounded soldier thought he was angry and replied nervously: "My name is Song Da Gang, I'm a squad leader in the 1st battalion of Han Fu Quan's 55th division." Song Zhe Wu knew he had misunderstood and quickly said: "Don't be nervous, I'm just asking casually. Do well, you see Wang De, last year when he first came over, he was only a platoon leader, now he's already a company commander, you should also strive to become a company commander soon." Song Da Gang, who was wounded in the leg, sat on the bed and saluted Song Zhe Wu: "Don't worry, Commander, I'll do my best." Wang De's face turned red as he said: "Commander, this time our company alone captured over 300 prisoners, our battalion commander said that when I return, he will recommend me to be deputy regimental commander." Song Zhe Wu burst out laughing and said: "Good, you're promoted again! However, you won't be able to go back, you get along well with these brothers from the original Northwest Army, so lead them in the future."

  Just as Wang De was about to say something, Song Zhe Wu interrupted him: "Wang Lian Chang, where is Er Gou Zi?" Wang De pointed to a pale and thin young man sitting crookedly on the bed in front of Song Zhe Wu: "Isn't this Er Gou Zi?" Er Gou Zi tried to get up but winced in pain. "Where are you hurt?" Wang De asked, carefully examining him. Half a year ago, Er Gou Zi was dark and thin, but now he had not only grown taller but also fatter and paler; if Wang De hadn't said so, he really wouldn't have recognized him.

  Rushed to send out a chapter first, there will be more tonight. Thank you everyone for your collection and recommendation.