[Dr John H. Mulligan of St Andrew’s University.] Three long Autograph Letters Signed to his colleague Professor Waterston, while serving as Lieutenant with a Field Ambulance.

Mulligan’s collection of lantern slides is now part of the St Andrew’s collections, and information about him is to be gleaned from its web pages. David Waterston (1871-1942) was Bute Professor of Anatomy at the University of St Andrews from 1914 to 1942. In 1913, while Professor of Anatomy at King's College, London, he was the first authority to debunk the Piltdown Man hoax. A total of ten pages of closely and neatly written text. In fair condition, lightly ruckled, and with slight loss to the edge of one page, and the ink of one leaf having slightly run on removal from mount. ONE (8 September 1939): 2pp, 8vo. Begins by discussing the ‘laboratory work’ which ‘Colonel Mitchell’ said he would probably get ‘when he first suggested my entering the R.A.M.C. T.A.’ He hopes that Waterston will not need him ‘at the Bute’ until the war is over, and sends his regards to his family. TWO (9 February 1940): 4pp, 4to. While on duty in France he gives news of his activities: ‘Our work is at present to form hospitals and turn in a hospital for German measles. I expect I shall get it myself and when I look in the mirror I shall see what my former hero has done for me - another attack of German measles! I confess that every new record of German atrocity comes as a shock to me still, for Germany and the Germans were once surrounded by romance for me - as you know. In spite of the unhappiness of my last visit to Germany I have happy memories of my work at Bonn and the people whom I met there. Now they are all enemies.’ THREE (28 April 1940): 4pp, 4to. He begins with personal and professional news, before commenting: ‘It is very difficult to think about research work here. The Royal Society of Medicine will not send me the books - barring text-books - for one thing. However, I am settling down to read for the final F.R.C.S. again and will keep up my Anatomy. I may never have the opportunity to sit the examination or to get into a surgical ward to prepare for it, but at any rate I shall be able to return to St. Andrews with ideas of value for teaching purposes [...] Of course if war breaks out in France these plans for reading will break down, but I am making them because I am afraid of losing touch with the academic work, and growing stale especially if the war lasts.’