Ashford General Hospital

The Greenbrier Resort at White Sulfur Springs, West Virginia was owned by the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad and frequented by the “best families.” It was the playground of the rich and famous. It was commandeered by the United States government and became Ashford General Hospital. I arrived there on D-Day, June 6, 1944. Four patients occupied each room. With me was Bob Zamaria, married from Meadville, Pennsylvania; Leo, street smart from Detroit and I do not remember the other patient. I was not completely ambulatory and spent much time sitting on the bed with playing cards. There were no televisions or computers. We were free to use the facilities of the resort. Tennis, golf and horseback riding were available. The grounds were immaculately kept by German Prisoners of War. They wore fatigues with a big POW stenciled on the back. We had no contact with them. There was entertainment every evening; movies and USO entertainers. Those of us who were not ambulatory were pushed in wheel chairs. There were many amputees and paraplegics. I can remember only one entertainer. He came out with a straw hat and a cane and did a soft shoe tap dance. When he finished, he sat on a chair, pulled up a pants leg and removed the lower part of his leg. He hopped off with the device over his shoulder. You could almost hear the amputees thinking, “If he can dance with that thing, I can sure as hell walk with it!” I suppose that is why he performed there.

Ambulatory patients were required to do calisthenics and/or work. When it was discovered that I went to Pharmacy School for a year, I was sent to the Pharmacy. I was put to work making cod liver oil capsules. Drugs did not come like they do now. They were made in the Pharmacy from powders and liquids. Some drugs were ground into powder in a mortar with a pestle. I had a bowl of this evil smelling cod liver oil, an eye dropper (small syringe) and a box of empty capsules. I took apart the capsule, filled the syringe with cod liver oil, put it in one part of the capsule and then “put the lid on.” I had to be very careful because it was difficult to wash away the smell.

One day we were given the choice of calisthenics or picking apples for a farmer. Those of us who chose apple picking were driven to a farm. We wore our pajamas and robes. I fear that we ate more apples than we picked. We were all under twenty years of age.

I got along very well with the Pharmacist and he invited me to spend Christmas, 1944 with him and his family in Selma, West Virginia. We took the train on Christmas Eve to the large town just outside of Selma and rode a bus to Selma. It was a biter cold night and the snow made seeing the road difficult. We went up a winding road to Selma. Had I seen the road, I never would have gotten into that bus. We came back several days later during the day and I discovered that the road ran along a mountain with a sheer drop on one side of the road. I was a city boy and amazed to find livestock wandering in the streets of Selma; not the suburbs but downtown.

Two lumbar sympathectomies were performed. The lumbar nerves which controlled the flow of blood to the lower extremities were cut. Trench foot causes the contracting of blood vessels in the feet. It was thought that gravity would pull more blood through the blood vessels. This procedure made my feet warm and dry and allowed me to be ambulatory. I was transferred to the Medical Corps and put to work in the Hospital. Bob Zamaria and I were assigned to the admitting office, four to midnight shift. We were assigned quarters in the employee’s quarters, two to a room. Bob and I would report to the Admitting Office at 4:00 P.M. When patients arrived we would do the paperwork to admit them and send them to their assigned room. If there were no admittees, we played cribbage. At six o’clock, one of us went to the movie. At eight o’clock, the other one went to the movie. At eleven o’clock we went to the mess hall for dinner. At midnight we went to our quarters. We were free until four o’clock the next day. And we had few admittees during our shift. It was a good life.

This good life ended with VE Day. Planning for the invasion of Japan was beginning and hordes of infantrymen were needed. I was transferred to the Infantry and sent to Fort Jackson for advanced infantry training. I found the training physically impossible and the Army agreed. After a stay in the Fort Jackson Hospital, I was transferred to Camp Atterbury, Indiana, for a Medical Discharge. I was discharged on August 2, 1945. I was 20 years, 4 months old.

The Army

I was inducted into the Army on August 23, 1943, age 18 years, six months. I had never been more than 25 miles away from home except for two family trips; one to Masontown, Pennsylvania and one to Atlantic City. I reported to the Fifth Regiment Armory on Preston Street together with a group of mostly eighteen year olds. We went by bus to Fort Lee, Virginia where we were sworn in and outfitted with uniforms and equipment. I was sent to Fort Benning, Georgia for Infantry Basic Training. I was assigned to a platoon commanded by one Sergeant Boyarsky. I do not recall him as being the rough, gruff drill sergeant. We learned to shoot, rifles and carbines. The rifles were an Enfield and a Garand (M-6) The Enfield was a World War I rifle, single shot and heavy. The M6 would shoot as long as you held the trigger and there were bullets in the clip, of course. We learned to use a bayonet and hand to hand combat. Can you imagine sticking another man with a long knife and killing him? Are these people crazy? Can you imagine learning many ways to kill another human being? And being required to do it because the opposing soldier was trying to do the same to you? Are these people crazy?

And we marched, and we marched and we marched. The soil was sandy at Fort Benning and did not retain the heat of the day. When we woke in the morning, it was cold enough to wear a field jacket. As the day grew on, the heat increased and we shed clothing which were then carried on person. We were billeted in an outpost of Fort Benning in wooden barracks which slept forty men, a platoon. Everything was done the Army way; beds and footlocker made and packed identically according to specifications. The barracks were kept CLEAN. And, of course, there was KP, Kitchen Patrol. I can recall peeling mounds of potatoes until it was discovered that I knew how to cut meat. Then my KP duties were limited to that task. (From this experience, I deduced that everything that is learned may eventually become useful). I had never eaten a non-kosher meal before I went into the Army but I quickly learned. I could never eat mutton, however and with most of my buddies, lined up at the Post Exchange (PX) on mutton nights.

After the first month we were given week-end passes. On the first one, I went with two buddies to Columbus, Georgia. We went into a restaurant for breakfast. As we sat down at the counter, the waitress put a small dish of white stuff. This stuff was grits, pronounced gree-its; two syllables. Grits were not ordered; they were served with each and every meal.

After Basic Training I was sent to the University of Maine, Orono, Maine to participate in the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP). We took college courses. I had taken all the courses at Poly and Pharmacy School so I learned nothing new. I was there November, December, 1943 and January, 1944. I can remember nothing but bitter cold and snow and ice. I will never be convinced that there is earth in Maine! We would spray water over a field and had an ice skating rink in the morning. With planning for D-Day in June, 1944, and the coming need for hordes of Infantrymen, the ASTP became expendable. I was sent to Fort Jackson, South Carolina for advanced infantry training, to the 29th Division. I was nineteen years old. We were sent on maneuvers in Tennessee in March 1944. It was cold and raining every day. We never got dry. I can remember lining up in the morning for hot coffee in a metal canteen cup. The coffee was so hot it burned the lips. But it was so welcome. Conditions were made as difficult as possible in anticipation of combat conditions. We wore the same clothes for weeks. Our feet were never dry. Here I contracted trench foot, which is extreme frostbite. I could not walk for the pain and was sent to a field hospital, the Fort Jackson Hospital and finally, Ashford General Hospital, White Sulfur Springs, West Virginia. On D-Day, June 6, 1944, I was in Richmond, Virginia, enroute to White Sulfur Springs.