Many of these soldiers became prisoners of war POWs. Those who were unlucky enough to be captured were often starved, tortured, and sometimes killed by the Vietcong. When the war ended in , many of the POWs were released. John Hartley Robertson. However, the POW actually started a new life in the Vietnamese jungle, and he was found in
Thompson spent the next nine years 3, Nurse pow in vietnam as a prisoner of war, first at the hands of the Viet Cong in the South Vietnam jungles, until he was moved in to the Hanoi prison system. They had vietanm bedside nursing duties but rarely were there critical cases. I learned survival skills, how to improvise, the list is long. Eunice Young at the Presidio. Presidential Unit Citation. Thank you! Current Edition Subscribe Digital Edition.
Brunette sex uk. Angels of War: A Vietnam Nurse
Some of the most publicized testimony before the committee came in Septemberwhen former Nixon Defense Secretaries Melvin Laird and James Schlesinger said that the U. S President: Dwight D. Then the amtracs came in, crashing through the swali-covered fence near the front gate. In addition to the U. But I quickly recovered once I was able to eat good food again. And it was obvious he hadn't shaved yet, Nurse pow in vietnam he was probably of Scandinavian origin; but he was very short and very blonde and I kept thinking how awfully young he looked. Another thing was that Phoenix was the major source of napalm used in the bombs. POWs remaining in Vietnam. But we always managed to keep them comfortable as far as medications were concerned. They served us beautiful steaks, which of course we couldn't eat because our stomachs had shrunk so much. Church Nobody wanted Plush sex toys quit until the last surgery case was stabilized. May 24, Nurse pow in vietnamGarwood reemerged, claiming he and other POWs had remained imprisoned after the war. Our hospital was a small bed unit.
When Bataan and Corregidor fell, 11 Navy nurses, 66 army nurses, and 1 nurse-anesthetist were captured and imprisoned in and around Manila.
- Colonel Graham, from Efland, NC, suffered a stroke in August and was evacuated to Japan where she died four days later.
- The term also refers to issues related to the treatment of affected family members by the governments involved in these conflicts.
- Freedman, Dan and Jacqueline Rhoads, editors.
- I never had any childhood dreams of being a nurse.
- A German nurse who survived four years of North Vietnamese captivity recalled here yesterday how she passed the time in a wooden hut with dreams of building schools and hospitals.
Let friends in your social network know what you are reading about. Wilmer Grubb's sons hope to put to rest questions that have plagued them for decades.
A link has been sent to your friend's email address. A link has been posted to your Facebook feed. Please read the rules before joining the discussion. On a snowy January day nearly 50 years ago, a Western Union driver delivered the telegram that changed Jeff Grubb's life. When he retells the story — the unexpected knock at the door, his mother's cries — he feels 9 years old again, powerless and shell-shocked by news he hoped would never come.
His father, Lt. Wilmer Grubb, was missing in action, his reconnaissance plane shot down during a Jan. Left to worry and wonder over his fate for years were his wife, Evelyn, and their four sons, of whom Jeff is the eldest. The youngest would be born days after their father went missing. Now those sons, all in their 50s, will return to Vietnam in April in hopes of putting to rest questions that have plagued them for decades.
Days after that fateful knock on the door of their Virginia home, North Vietnam released photos of Wilmer Grubb in seemingly fine health, uninjured except for what appeared to be a superficial knee wound.
In the most iconic image meant to portray the humane treatment of prisoners of war, the pilot sits on the ground in his uniform while a nurse tends to his knee and a Vietnamese soldier, his gun at the ready, looks on. Yet when Grubb's remains were at last returned home in , the Vietnamese claimed he'd died nine days after his capture from injuries sustained in the crash.
The Grubb brothers — Jeff, Roland, Stephen and Roy — are traveling to Asia at the unexpected invitation of a Vietnamese solider involved in bringing down their father's plane and his subsequent capture. An independent film company, Napkin Sketch Productions, will document their travels as part of a feature-length documentary called Fruits of Peace that will be available in early The doors are closing, the people who know things are getting older. He remembers fishing trips and camping trips and crabbing on the Maryland shore when the family returned stateside.
He remembers the story of Wilmer Grubb's first flight: He'd been a school boy when he cut class and made his way to the local airport, where he talked a local pilot into taking him up. As came to a close, Wilmer Grubb prepared to head to Vietnam. His impending departure weighed heavily on the year-old father who was expecting his fourth child.
There was more than a foot of snow on the ground the day the Western Union truck showed up. Which made the knock at the door all the more ominous. Evelyn Grubb knew right away the news was bad. Wilmer Grubb had been flying an unarmed reconnaissance mission when he came under fire from a North Vietnamese anti-aircraft gun in Quang Binh.
The Grubb family did not know whether he had survived the crash until the North Vietnamese photographs emerged, appearing in publications around the world.
The family was filled with hope. But years went by with no reply — and no update as to what had become of their father.
His remains were returned to the family and interred at Arlington National Cemetery in , more than eight years after his capture. A stay-at-home mother at the time her husband disappeared, Evelyn Grubb became active on the world stage in advancing the plight of families of Vietnam POWs. Anybody she could talk to, she did it. When his mother traveled in those early years, much responsibility fell to Jeff Grubb. We also became kind of spokespeople for the National League of Families organization," he said.
I remember speaking at an assembly at my high school. It certainly changed who I might have been, because it really gave us a focus that's quite different than most kids growing up. It was their mother's memory the Grubb brothers first considered when they received a letter from the Vietnamese man who said he was involved in the downing of their father's plane.
If Grubb's relatives want to visit Vietnam, we will treat them well. Had Evelyn Grubb been alive to receive the letter, son Stephen Grubb said in interview with the film's producers, she would have hopped the first plane to Vietnam. Pham, a young officer in the North Vietnamese Army in , vividly recalled bringing down Wilmer Grubb's plane and his subsequent capture. The U. At the time, Pham recalled, Wilmer Grubb was alive and well. When Pham traveled to the U.
Pham was shocked to learn that the pilot had not survived the war. He paid his respects to his former enemy during a visit to Arlington, carrying with him a copy of Evelyn Grubb's book. Pham wrote a letter to the Grubb family and asked the filmmakers to deliver it. The Grubb brothers plan to retrace their father's final steps and meet with as many people as they can who have some knowledge of their father — including the Vietnamese nurse pictured in the photo tending to Wilmer Grubb's knee.
The film producers, with the help of Pham, have located her and others they believe can provide information. That's scary," Stephen Grubb said in the Kickstarter video.
Yet "facing fear is something we've learned to cope with. In our family's name, we've got to find any information on what happened after our father bailed out of his airplane.
Share This Story! Post to Facebook. Cancel Send. ET March 4, Updated p. ET March 4, Michele Mathews sits on Kevin Palmer's shoulders as she makes a rubbing of the area where the name of Palmer's uncle, Douglas, is inscribed on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial on Nov. Chip Somodevilla, Getty Images. Eighth-graders from Evansville Ind. Christian School use paper and pencils to make rubbings of the names of deceased service members on Oct.
People read the names on the memorial at sunrise on May 24, David Ake, AP. Expert stoneworker James Lee makes a graphite rubbing from one of three new names added to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial on May 3, Win McNamee, Getty Images. Combat boots and photographs are left at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial after a parade on Nov. Chiara Shine reaches up to touch the name of her grandfather, Air Force Lt.
Anthony Shine, as her mother, Colleen, points to the location on March 26, A yellow rose leans on names of Americans killed in combat at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial on April 29, Chaunti Douglas holds a rose up to a name on June 22, , during a Father's Day ceremony. Gerald Herbert, AP. Robert Hilton rubs a pencil over the name of a servicemember etched on the black granite of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial on Nov. Rick Bowmer, AP. Visitors view names inscribed on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial on June 22, Marine honor guard holds an American flag on May 26, , at the memorial.
Larry S. People make a rubbing of a name on May 7, Brian K. Diggs, AP. A bouquet of flowers hangs on the memorial in April Vietnam War veterans and their families gather at the memorial during a snowstorm on Nov. A guard reads the names on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Nov.
Charles Tasnadi, AP. Interested in this topic? You may also want to view these photo galleries: Replay. Show Thumbnails. Show Captions.
Richard Nixon. We'd have them brought to us with the tags on them. An amtrac pulled up in front of the hospital and the American troops jumped out. To skeptics, "live prisoners" remained a conspiracy theory unsupported by motivation or evidence, and the foundation for a cottage industry of charlatans who preyed upon the hopes of the families of the missing. We assigned a corpsman to each expectant so they wouldn't be by themselves. Women also served as members of the U. It was just about 7 in the morning [23 Feb.
Nurse pow in vietnam. U.S. Air Force
He was staring up at me. I remember he had a large hole in his chest and I knew it was a gunshot wound or a grenade injury. It had blown his heart, his lungs, everything to shreds.
He had nothing left but a rib cage. Evidently, they had lain out on the ground awhile before someone could get to them. The corpsmen were told to take care of the wounded first, instead of spending time getting the dead in the bags. There were GIs exposed to flame throwers or gas explosions. We used to call them "crispy critters" to keep from getting depressed.
They'd come in and there would be nothing more than this shell of a person. That was a little easier to take, they didn't have a face. It could have been an animal's carcass for all you knew. But to have to go looking for the dog tags, to find the dog tags on a person, that bothered me.
I remember the first time I looked in a body bag I shook so badly. One of the doctors was kind enough to help me through it, saying, "Come on, it's your duty and you're going to have to do this. It's just something that I'm going to help you through. It's just a dead person.
We were considered the most beautiful women in the world. The guys treated us special. You could have been the ugliest woman in the world, but still you were treated special. The mass - cal, that's mass casualty situation, traditionally was anything more than 10 or 15 wounded. It was mass chaos, bordering on panic. There'd be a corpsman walking around saying, "Dust off just called and they're bringing in 25 wounded.
Everybody get going. The nurses would put extra tourniquets around their necks to get ready to clamp off blood vessels. The stretchers were all prepared, and we'd go down each row hanging IVs all plugged and ready to go. It was mass production. You'd start the IVs on those people where the doctor was able to say, "This one is saved, this one is saved. The expectant ones were the ones who required too much care.
We'd make them comfortable and allow them to die. I guess it was making us comfortable too. I remember this guy named Cliff, a triple amputee we once had. He came in with mast-trousers on.
Mast-trousers is an apparatus you inflate that puts pressure on the lower half of your body to allow adequate blood flow to your heart and brain. When Cliff came in, he was conscious, which was amazing. He looked like a stage dummy who'd been thrown haphazardly in a pile. One of his legs was up underneath his chin so that he was able to look down at the under- side of his foot. His left arm was twisted behind his head in a horrible way. We couldn't even locate his second leg.
He had stepped on a land mine. With his legs that bad, we knew there probably wasn't much backbone left. He was alive because of these trousers. The corpsman must have been right there when he got wounded. He had put him in this bag and inflated it. Cliff should have been dead. It was really funny because he looked at two of us nurses there and said, "God, I think I've died and gone to heaven.
I know my leg is pretty bad because I can see it, but take good care of me, doc. The docs had trouble letting go. So one of them finally said, "Well, let's get him into the operating room, deflate the bag, and let's get in there and see if we can't do something.
Somehow, he knew it too. I remember I was getting blood prepared for him. He called me from across the room, "Jacque, come here quick. Are you in pain? We'd do anything to alleviate pain. He said, "I think I'm going to die and I don't want to be alone. And when we deflated the trousers, we lost him in seconds.
We found no backbone, no lower part of his body. Really, he had been cut in half. The leg that was folded underneath his neck was completely severed from his body.
It was just there. The corpsmen had evidently bundled him together into the bag hoping maybe something would be there that was salvageable. And he just died. I remember he had blond hair, blue eyes--cute as a button. I had to take his body myself to graves registration. I just couldn't let him go alone. I just couldn't do that.
I had to pry my hand away from his hand, because he had held on to my hand so tightly. I had to follow him to graves registration and put him in the bag myself. I couldn't let go of him. It was something I had to do. Usually the expectants had massive head injuries. They were practically gone, they couldn't communicate with you. You were supposed to clean them up, call the chaplain.
You did all that stuff, I guess, to make you feel as though you were helping them. To preserve their lives, you would've had to put them on a respirator and evac them to a neuro facility, which in our case would have been all the way to Da Nang, which was hours, miles away. I was an operating room nurse, but when there was a mass-cal, since there were only 12 of us, we'd be called into triage to work there. After that, I'd follow them into the operating room and help do the surgery.
A lot of the shrapnel extractions we'd do ourselves, and a lot of the closures too. The docs would say, "Why don't you close? I got this next case in the next room.
We wanted to save everyone. In fact, when we tried to save Cliff, they brought in the Vietnamese who had laid the mine. He had an amputation. He was bleeding badly and had to be treated right away. And we saved him. I guess in my heart I felt angry about what happened. We were short on anesthesia and supplies.
And we were giving anesthesia to this POW, which made me angry because I thought, "What if--what happens if someone comes in like Cliff and we don't have any anesthesia left because we gave it all to this POW?
The tables could be turned, and what if it was Cliff in the POW's place, and how would I feel if he received no anesthesia simply because he was an enemy? It made me think, "Gosh, I'm losing my values, what's happened to me? Life is life. But suddenly I wasn't thinking that anymore. I was thinking, "I'm American, and they're the enemy. Kill the enemy and save the American. I haven't changed that much really, I'm still that way. But back then, suddenly, I began questioning things, wondering about what we were doing there.
I remember talking with the chaplain, saying, "What are we doing? For what purpose are we here? And we treated plenty of them at our hospitals, too.
Yet when we'd call up and say, "We got a wounded soldier in Timbuktu," they'd say, "It's five o'clock and we don't fly at night.
We had women who'd invite GIs to dinner--nice women--and they'd have someone come out from behind a curtain and shoot them all down dead. I mean, what kind of war was this? The chaplain told me, "Hey Jacque, you can't condemn the American government. We can't say the American government is wrong to put us in this position here. We can't say, because there is so much we don't know. I was thinking, "Here I am judging, and I'm saying what the heck are we doing here, look at all these lives lost, all these young boys and for what?
And who am I to judge that? There has to be a reason. They think I'm living in a dream world because I'm hoping there was a good reason. I didn't really have much time to worry about right and wrong back then, because during these mass-cals we'd be up for 36 hours at a stretch. Nobody wanted to quit until the last surgery case was stabilized. By that time, we were emotionally and physically numb. You couldn't see clearly, you couldn't react.
Sounds were distant. We kind of policed each other. When we saw each other reacting strangely or slowly, we'd say, "Hey, Jacque, get some sleep, someone will cover, go get some sleep. That's how we coped with stress. You didn't have time to think about how unhappy you were. It was afterwards, when you couldn't go to sleep. I knew I had a problem the day I was with a nurse I was training who was going to replace someone else. I remember I had completed this amputation and I had the soldier's leg under my arm.
I was holding the leg because I had to dress it up and give it to graves registration. They'd handle all the severed limbs in a respectful manner. They wouldn't just throw them in the garbage pile and burn them. They were specially labeled and handled the good old government way. I remember this nurse came in and she was scheduled to take the place of another nurse.
When she saw me, I went to greet her and I had this leg under my arm. Both were 22 years old. Lieutenant Jones is pictured here. Alexander, stationed at the 85th Evacuation Hospital and Orlowski, stationed at the 67th Evacuation Hospital, in Qui Nhon, had been sent to a hospital in Pleiku to help out during a push.
With them when their plane crashed on the return trip to Qui Nhon were two other nurses, Jerome E. Shoemaker, Jr. Alexander was 27, Orlowski Both were posthumously awarded Bronze Stars. She was assigned to the 85th Evacuation Hospital in Qui Nhon.
Angels of Bataan - Wikipedia
Florie E. Grant tending to a patient at a prisoner of war hospital, On July 26, , President Truman signed an executive order that desegregated the U. Armed Forces. Army Nurse Corps. Black nurses who served in the war found themselves in one of two places— segregated bases with black soldiers or German prisoner of war camps. Along with the separate facilities, black nurses endured racist treatment from local white residents in town, fellow white army officers, and even from German prisoners of war.
Prisoners of war, under rules set by the Geneva Convention , could be made to work for the detaining power. And, with millions of American men away serving in the military, there was a significant labor shortage in the United States. Farms, canneries, plants and other industries needed German POWs as workers, and black army nurses were overwhelmingly assigned to POW camps. To them, the assignment could be deeply troubling.
Black nurses volunteered to serve wounded American soldiers, not the enemy. It had taken decades for black nurses to be admitted into the U. The interactions between the POWs and black nurses were largely civilized, but there were reported incidences where Nazi beliefs of racial superiority were on full display. I think it is insult enough to be here taking care of them when we volunteered to come into the army to nurse military personnel All of this is making us very bitter.
Long before World War II, black nurses had been struggling to serve their country. When the United States entered World War I in , black nurses tried to enroll in the Army Nurse Corps but were rejected because of their skin color.
A few black nurses eventually served, but not because the Army Nurse Corps finally accepted them. The flu epidemic wiped out so many thousands of people that a handful of African American nurses were called to assist. Decades later, after Hitler invaded Poland , the U. Thousands of black nurses who wanted to serve their country and earn a steady military income filled out applications and received the following letter:.
However painful, the rejection notice was an honest assessment of how black nurses were regarded. And with political pressure from civil rights groups and the black press, 56 black nurses were finally admitted into the U. Army Nurse Corps in —all sent to segregated bases in the South.
As the war progressed, the numbers of black nurses allowed to enlist remained surprisingly low. By , only black women served in the entire Army Nurse Corps, compared to 40, white nurses. Many were relegated to German prisoner of war camps.
Serving at POW camps was considered a second-rate assignment and the camps were isolating and lonely for black nurses. They had typical bedside nursing duties but rarely were there critical cases. For German POWs, at least from a social standpoint, they fared better than black nurses. White civilians and military personnel were friendly towards them—a level of respect that black nurses did not experience with any regularity.
When German prisoners first arrived in the U. In one train depot in Texas, a group of black soldiers were denied access to the Whites-Only dining hall, yet saw through a window, a group of German POWs and their American guards sitting at a table together, laughing and eating.
Thousands of white nurses also had POW camp assignments—they had to—there were so few black women in the Army Nurse Corps. But if a black unit could replace a white one at a camp, the swap was made. As the war entered its final year, the number of American wounded men had skyrocketed.
There was even a threat of a nursing draft, with no acknowledgement of the 9, black nurses who had applied to the Army Nurse Corps—and been passed over. Congressman Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Now 70 years later, since the military was desegregated, African American nurses make up 17 percent of the Army Nurse Corps, and the current Surgeon General of the U.
Army, the highest ranking medical officer, is Lt. General Nadja West, the first black woman to hold that position. But if you see something that doesn't look right, click here to contact us! Twice a week we compile our most fascinating features and deliver them straight to you. This Day In History.