Voices from the Korean War - Douglas Rice [88]
Before loading the wounded, the Medical Administrative Commander would hand me a manifest that listed name, and condition along with comments such as ambulatory or litter, arm or leg in cast, taking nasal oxygen, or patient with IV.
After all the cargo had been offloaded, Sgt. Waters and I quickly converted the cabin into a hospital ward. Waters unrolled the litter straps that were attached to the cabin walls and fastened them to the floor. The handles of each litter would be secured in the straps, with three litters in a tier. For the ambulatory patients—those who could walk—canvas seats equipped with safety belts were put in place.
Waters and I would study the manifest and determine where each patient needed to be placed. We then signaled to the administrative officer that we were ready for loading. The waiting ambulances backed up to the ramp, then the ambulance crews carefully carried the litters into the plane; the ambulatory patients boarded last. I checked each patient’s dog-tags with the manifest as they came aboard.
Regulations required, during take-off and landing, all medical personnel are seated with their seat belt fastened—unless a medical situation required their attention. Such a case would be to hold an IV apparatus or to administer oxygen to a patient.
When we landed at Itazuke, ambulances were waiting for their precious cargo. After these men were loaded into the box-looking ambulances that displayed a red cross, they were taken on a sixty minute journey to the 118th Army Hospital.
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I recall on the 13th of October—a Friday—getting up at 7:00 AM to fix breakfast for the girls that were flying that day. It wasn’t very often that several of us were there to eat breakfast together due to our schedules. However, that day we enjoyed eggs, bacon, toast, jelly, tomato juice and coffee.
The day before, Kay and I had flown to Kimpo where many patients were waiting. She returned to Itazuke, on the same plane we flew over in, with thirty litter patients. Staying behind with the remaining wounded were Waters and myself; we waited for the next cargo plane.
Knowing it would be a while before we left, I asked several of the men when was the last time they had eaten; they had not eaten in the last eight hours. There were twenty men on stretchers and six ambulatory, although hungry, each was happy to be leaving the war—none complained of hunger.
I asked Waters to look after the men while I went to find something for them to eat. Asking for a few volunteers to go with me, I headed to the mess hall. As we entered, I asked to speak to the mess officer; surprised to see a female, a baby-faced sergeant looked up. I explained to him that I was a flight nurse and we had wounded men waiting for a plane to Japan that were hungry. Then I went on to ask if he had any food to give them.
With a proud look on his face, he said he did and we could have all we needed. However, he explained he didn’t have enough mess kits. By this time, those eating in the mess hall had heard us talking and everyone wanted to help—a clear indication we were all in this conflict together.
Within fifteen minutes a group of soldiers were serving hot rations to the wounded men. Due to the shortage of mess kits, some improvised by using toothbrush holders and sticks of celery as utensils; others were loaned forks and spoons from soldiers in the mess hall. After everyone had finished, the smiling mess hall workers picked up everything and returned to the mess hall. Ninety minutes later we were in the air.
During our flight, some of the men told me stories of their horrible experiences; others played cards while some slept. After landing, the patients were taken to Osaka General Hospital.
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The air was crisp with a touch of autumn weather as we loaded a group of United Nations soldiers, not all of whom spoke English, onto the C-46. One was an ROK soldier with a cast on his left leg, so we placed his litter in the straps where his leg could extent out into the aisle—for easy