Class Note 1943
Issue
July-August 2021
Flashback to the year 1945: The 42nd Army General Hospital on Leyte was huge! Two months after arriving via hospital plane from Mindanao and into the intensive care unit, I felt better but not strong. My Army major doctor was telling me, “Not yet, George, not yet.” It was early November; World War II had ended on August 15. My outfit had returned to Leyte. My buddies had headed home. It would be another 45 days before my discharge!
Military lore proves that the Navy and Marine Corps attracted the prettiest nurses, then came the Air Force, Coast Guard, and finally the Army. I truly disagree. The Army had its own bevy of beauties. There were eight of us in our ICU ward and we all loved and idolized Lt. “Cee.” I think she was from Wisconsin, and no one could pronounce or spell her last name. When she glided through the doors in the early morning, groans emanated from every bed. “Nurse Cee, I don’t feel good. Hold my hand.” “Lieutenant, I don’t feel well. I need help.” “Nurse Cee, I’m going to faint!” And she would holler back, “Okay, fellas, chow in 30 minutes!”
Lt. Cee was the prettiest gal in the hospital. She was our ray of sunshine, a bundle of joy, a blockbuster beauty—and she was our favorite nurse. One afternoon I was writing a letter home when she stopped by, saying, “George, your Mary is so pretty.” I replied, “I think you’re prettier, Lt. Cee.” Nurse Cee jabbed me in the upper arm with her finger and whispers, “George, you are one big flirt.” Then, with a lovely smile, she sauntered over to the next bed. She honestly lit up every room. I wonder whatever happened to Nurse Cee. In a certain way, she “saved” our young lives!
It was strange, but after spending 105 days in the ICU, one’s nurse becomes very important in your life. She talks, you listen. She tells a story, you laugh. Except for a doctor’s appointment once a week, we were on our own after each meal. There was no occupational therapy, no physical therapy. I enjoyed going back to the social lounge and library. I read back issues of Life and Look magazine and the available newspapers and liked chatting with other grunts. We were the “veterans.” And ICU patients had privileges. The hospital took really good care of us. We saw every USO troupe that came through and saw movies and news reels. We all agreed that America had survived WW II better than other worn-torn countries. No battles had occurred on U.S. soil. How lucky we all were! We lost 415,000 soldiers in WW II. As I write this in April, Covid-19 has claimed more than 550,000 lives in more than 12 months. So take care, stay safe.
—George Shimizu, 2140 Sepulveda Ave., Milpitas, CA 95035; (408) 930-2488; marymariko@comcast.net
Military lore proves that the Navy and Marine Corps attracted the prettiest nurses, then came the Air Force, Coast Guard, and finally the Army. I truly disagree. The Army had its own bevy of beauties. There were eight of us in our ICU ward and we all loved and idolized Lt. “Cee.” I think she was from Wisconsin, and no one could pronounce or spell her last name. When she glided through the doors in the early morning, groans emanated from every bed. “Nurse Cee, I don’t feel good. Hold my hand.” “Lieutenant, I don’t feel well. I need help.” “Nurse Cee, I’m going to faint!” And she would holler back, “Okay, fellas, chow in 30 minutes!”
Lt. Cee was the prettiest gal in the hospital. She was our ray of sunshine, a bundle of joy, a blockbuster beauty—and she was our favorite nurse. One afternoon I was writing a letter home when she stopped by, saying, “George, your Mary is so pretty.” I replied, “I think you’re prettier, Lt. Cee.” Nurse Cee jabbed me in the upper arm with her finger and whispers, “George, you are one big flirt.” Then, with a lovely smile, she sauntered over to the next bed. She honestly lit up every room. I wonder whatever happened to Nurse Cee. In a certain way, she “saved” our young lives!
It was strange, but after spending 105 days in the ICU, one’s nurse becomes very important in your life. She talks, you listen. She tells a story, you laugh. Except for a doctor’s appointment once a week, we were on our own after each meal. There was no occupational therapy, no physical therapy. I enjoyed going back to the social lounge and library. I read back issues of Life and Look magazine and the available newspapers and liked chatting with other grunts. We were the “veterans.” And ICU patients had privileges. The hospital took really good care of us. We saw every USO troupe that came through and saw movies and news reels. We all agreed that America had survived WW II better than other worn-torn countries. No battles had occurred on U.S. soil. How lucky we all were! We lost 415,000 soldiers in WW II. As I write this in April, Covid-19 has claimed more than 550,000 lives in more than 12 months. So take care, stay safe.
—George Shimizu, 2140 Sepulveda Ave., Milpitas, CA 95035; (408) 930-2488; marymariko@comcast.net