When Asian flu gave us the shivers
The coronavirus is worryingly horrible – but it’s nothing on Asian flu.
In April 1957, the Times reported that ‘an influenza epidemic’, originating in China, had affected thousands of people in Hong Kong. The source was said to be wild ducks, a migratory species ideally suited to contaminating large areas by means of its droppings. Open-air markets – crowded, insanitary and full of livestock – were a fertile source of infection (and they’re thought to have been the source of the Wuhan outbreak of the coronavirus).
Within weeks, the virus had become global, with over a million cases in India alone. It had also acquired an official title, H2N2, but was more widely known as Asian flu.
When Asian flu arrived here in late August 1957, medical authorities were unperturbed, saying that, contrary to ‘scare stories in the lay press’, it was ‘milder’ than ordinary flu. They were in no hurry to import the vaccine that had just been developed in the USA, recommending aspirin, plenty of liquid and a few days in bed for infectees.
In fact, the virus was an entirely new strain against which most people had no immunity. A GP later admitted, ‘We were amazed at the extraordinary infectivity of the disease, overawed by the suddenness of its impact and surprised at the protean nature of its symptomatology.’
An estimated nine million Britons were affected, mostly for periods of between one to two weeks, after which they were advised to convalesce for at least a further week. Typically, you began by feeling off-colour and a bit wobbly. Then you got a fever, accompanied by aches and pains, by which time all you wanted to do was go to bed. If you were really unlucky you developed complications such as bronchitis or pneumonia, which posed a serious threat to the very young and the very old.
Flu thrives in crowds, so that institutions like hospitals and schools, particularly boarding schools, were especially vulnerable. More than half the boys at Eton were infected, said the Times, which also reported that the King of Denmark had withdrawn his daughter, Princess Benedikte, from Benenden until the virus had abated.
In my house at school, everyone caught it, including our matron. The arrival of her young and attractive locum was some compensation for missing a chunk of the rugby season.
The armed forces were also hit hard, as were claustrophobic industries such as mining. An estimated £10 million – a lot of money then – was spent on sickness benefit. The TUC’S Vic Feather, responding to criticism of union militancy, said twice as many working hours were lost through flu than through strikes.
Although nothing like as deadly as the catastrophic Spanish flu pandemic of 1918/19, which killed between 50 and 100 million people, Asian flu accounted for at least two million deaths worldwide – possibly twice that number. In Britain, there were about 14,000 victims, almost half of whom were children. This was far more than the number who died from polio, then one of the world’s most feared diseases.
By December 1957, the Asian flu epidemic here appeared to have run its course, only to revive in January and February, targeting mainly the elderly. Then, as suddenly as it arrived, it went.
But a reminder that it was not dead, but sleeping, occurred in 2005, when flu-testing kits containing a sample were mistakenly sent to laboratories all over the world. Fearful lest the virus escape, those responsible alerted the recipients, who scrambled to destroy the kits and their lethal pathogen.