December 5th, 1943, my orders for air evacuation training arrived. I was to report to Louisville, Kentucky on January 3rd. I asked for and received a 3 day pass to see my folks in Akron. Sarky called three or four times; and finally on December he phoned from Newport News to say he was leaving soon for an unknown European theatre destination. We promised to write each other every day, which we did for the next two years.
Around Xmas, one of the officers at the club approached me and said he had heard I was travelling East, that he also was being transferred there. He planned to drive and said he would like to have company for the trip, a three or four day journey, which we would undertake after Christmas. He seemed nice and I asked a couple of people who knew him for their opinion. One friend said he was a nice guy. He was good looking and had nice manners.
We took off the morning of December 27th early. He was quiet but encouraged me to talk - that's all I needed. I kept up a running commentary all through Nebraska and Iowa. We finally pulled up to a motel after 14 hours on the road. He said he'd make the arrangements and I could stay in the car. He came back and said there were no rooms but had been directed to another motel. This time I wanted to come in; I was tired and cold. I let him go up to the desk and just wandered around the lobby ending up at the front desk just as the clerk said "Sorry, Lt., no rooms with a double bed". I'm sure my mouth gaped as I gave the Lt. a hostile look and quickly said to the clerk: "No single rooms at all? “Yes, as I explained to the Lt., that is all we have left.” We'll take two," I said 'and after asking the price I put my money down on the desk.
As I picked up my bag the Lt. tried to take it from me and said: "Can't hang line for trying, can you?' If you still want me to go along on this trip I insist on paying you, I said "and I do mean in money". We were OK the next day but I didn't trust him the next time lodging arrangements came up. I really didn't feel safe until I said goodbye to him in Akron.
Later, as my train pulled into Louisville I looked around for women in uniform. I soon spied some at one end of the station and hurried over. A captain was giving orders, asking for our baggage claims. About six of us piled into a large sedan and in half an hour we were at the base. At a huge office I ran into Frieda from Grand Island and agreed to room with her.
As I looked around at the other recruits my thought that guidelines were flexible was confirmed. Flight nurses were supposed to be between 5'2" and 5'6". I was 5'1/2" and I saw nurses who were at least 5'10". 20/20 eyes were a must and yet I saw some wearing glasses as strong as magnifying glasses. Weight was supposed to be proportional; the group contained extremes of fat and skinny bodies. A few very pretty girls, a few ugly but most rather average looking - thank heavens, I thought, I could qualify in the latter category.
We were seated 4-6 to a table when senior students came in to tell us rules, routines, answer our questions. There were classes on health and disease half a day, with the rest of the day divided between first aid, how to work in a hospital plane, plus other military duties such as marching, swimming and getting into shape by going on long hikes. Evenings were devoted to study but our weekends were free.
We really had misgivings when we were told that 60% of each class dropped out due to academic failure. Then we were taken to our barracks and assigned small bare rooms with double decker bunks, a dresser, two straight chairs and a small closet with no door. Room inspection every Saturday A.M. with demerits for every rule infraction. The army blanket had to be tight enough to make a dropped dime bounce. Only two skirts, jackets, one flight suit, leather flying jacket, one pair of dress shoes and one of boots were allowed per person. All items had to face in the same direction, with jackets and coats buttoned to the top. Nothing on the dresser - no pictures, makeup, nothing. The things we couldn't get into foot lockers had to mailed home. The post office was busy the next few days.
We drilled a couple of hours each day, went on 9 to ten mile hikes weekly. I finally got good at counting cadence and didn't disgrace my squadron when I had to take my turn as leader. We learned to set up pup tents, ditch them against rain and take them down within an allotted time. All assigned supplies had to be laid out on a blanket for inspection.
It was cold in Louisville so it was no easy matter to pound stakes into frozen ground; or lay supplies out for inspection in thawed mud. Our simulated plane was an old C-47 which had suffered metal fatigue. We had to learn how to load four tiers of patients on litters, set broken limbs with Thomas splints, suture and bandage minor injuries, give intravenous care. The latter was learned by assigning us to local hospital on the base, drawing lab blood from patients. I don't know who shook more, the poor patients or the inexperienced nurses. Each flight nurse was assigned a technical sgt. As an assistant. We had classes on tropical diseases, other medical ailments, supplemented by work in a Louisville hospital for two weeks.
When we were properly indoctrinated in military policies we had classes in map reading and field marches were lengthened to 10-l3 miles to harden our muscles. Then came time for a five day bivouac of a squadron consisting of 25 nurses and 25 technicians. The exercise began at 1700 hours, with marching at first in precision, then in order and finally in disorder. A military policy I never understood was the two by two, with the tallest soldiers in front with the shortest types bringing up the rear. This meant we little shrimps with short legs had to practically run to keep the cadence pace set by the tall people in front. Several times I had to be picked up and carried when I had fallen too far behind.
Thank goodness, nurses didn't have to carry packs, just gas masks. The bivouac exercise was to teach us how to work and survive under war conditions, so we had simulated conditions as we marched - small planes would fly by, dropping sacks of flour. When the order came to disperse we ran to the roadside and took cover in the nearest ditch frequently filled with water or mud. Needless to say, we were quite a mess when we got back to camp, a 13-mile trip. We were really dragging when we arrived.
At the lunch break one could wash hands in the river. Food was served from huge containers which was doled out to the hungry line clutching metal plates and cups, waiting for stew, large pieces of bread and coffee. I never saw such clean plates after a meal. Good thing too, as cleaning of utensils required another line, the dipping of plate, cup and spoon in boiling water tubs, as one walked by.
After lunch we were assigned an area and had to set up tents with a partner. Ray and I were told to do a good job ditching as rain was expected. By the time we cleaned up and got our tent ready, we barely had time to rest our weary bones and muscles. At 4 P.M. I found out that I had guard duty from 6 to 10 P.M. We used sticks for simulated guns and had to challenge all persons going past the area we were guarding. I could hardly walk back to the tent that night I was so tired. The next day one squadron was set up across the river which was to be "enemy" territory. Our squadron was given various assignments that would take us into enemy terrain. The chores were given with a map which was to test our map reading skill. Our group of six wound up with six different opinions on the correct direction to take.
I remember turning over and feeling uncomfortable a few times. I finally woke up when Ray screamed "Bobby, get up before we drowned." We were lying with the tent over us and water running over the top. I didn't know whether our ditching was poor but even the best preparation wouldn't have helped us from the deluge. Fortunately, it was 0600 and we could see around the area. We hung our sleeping bags on nearby tree, found the tent pegs and got our shelter up again. I was sick of war already.
We hit the latrine before breakfast and if you haven't used a slit trench in the rain, you don't know what you have missed. Although the sun was out by the time breakfast was over; it was warm and we were drying out physically and humorously. A new game awaited us - this time we had to go into "enemy" territory and bring back simulated wounded soldiers, prepared to set broken bones and suture wounds as required. One day I was a nurse; the next a patient.
We again were forced to use our map reading skills(I didn't offer an opinion this time) and took off in litter-equipped jeeps and a few ambulances for the seriously wounded. Some of us were assigned as drivers, others to work in field aid stations or picking up the wounded. The latter was my assignment. There were loudspeakers all over the area, with the sounds of guns and bombs continuously. It was a fun game and we had lots of laughter in pretending tasks which would not be pleasant in reality. Some of the experiences in putting on Thomas splints and wound bandaging helped me later in nursing. Another midnight-2 A.M. guard duty, a second day of war games (I was a patient) and it was time for the 15 mile march home. I'll never forget that bivouac but at the time I hoped never to have to repeat it.
After a few weeks, friend Frieda from Grand Island decided to quit. She went back to Tennessee and married a doctor. Kay, my bivouac roommate, and I became close friends. We often double dated: fellows we met at the officers club, a couple of guys assigned to tanks and a sgt. and his friend who I had had as a patient in Grand Island.
Finally, graduation day when we would receive our flight nurse insignia. Quite a few nurses had dropped out along the way. We woke up to a beautiful day of warm sunshine. We marched like pros now to a stage on the parade grounds where relatives and friends were in the audience. About 50 nurses and technicians were graduating. Mrs. Roosevelt gave a talk and pinned us with wings - a big highlight in my life. I had always admired her and was thrilled to see and hear her in person.
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| Turning GI at Louisville, Kentucky |
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| Bobby |
A few days later all of the graduates were sent to Presque Isle, Maine, the overseas debarcation port. The troop train trip took three days and two nights. Presque Isle was a beautiful place in May; tall evergreen trees, quiet and with fresh air. It reminded me of Canada (my concept of Canada came from watching Jeanette McDonald and Nelson Eddy in a film about the Mounties). It was chilly at night but days were sunny and warm.
We were all excited about our future destinations, rumours flew continuously. Would it be England, France, Italy? Would we be together, etc. We drilled an hour each morning but otherwise our time was free. We quickly became acquainted with fellow officers at the club, visited town, shopped in New Brunswick, Canada. Presque Isle was located on the north eastern tip of Maine and so remote that the joke was: "Put a service star in your window, mother, your son is in P.I.” (During the war families who had children in the military posted service stars in their windows. If the relative was killed the star became a gold one.)
Finally, after two weeks we were ordered to board C-47s, a large transport plane. Our commanding officer was to give us our destination when we were two hours out of Presque Isle. Six nurses and techs were assigned to the Azores Islands. I was one of them. Others were ordered to Newfoundland. None of us had ever heard of the Azores or where they were.
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