II. Othelia's Story - 95th Evac Hospital: North Africa

Lt. Rosten

Operation Torch - North Africa

Adapted from several accounts including those of Nurse Mary Fisher & Army Sgt. Stanley J. Polanski

S.S. Mariposa Leaving New York for Casablanca - 1943

Editor note: Following due processing, personnel and equipment boarded USAT “Mariposa” (ex-Matson Lines ocean liner launched in 1931) at the Brooklyn Navy Yard with destination North Africa (also on board were the 93d Evacuation Hospital, the 56th Evacuation Hospital, the 54th Medical Battalion, and members of the 99th Fighter Squadron, aka “Tuskegee” African-American airmen, as well as miscellaneous tank crews, engineers, and others). The 400-bed 95th Evac Hosp departed New York POE 16 April 1943 and landed at Casablanca, French Morocco 24 April 1943. This ex-Matson Lines luxury ocean liner was converted into a troopship serving the United States in the Far East, North Africa, and Western Europe, transporting military personnel and supplies during the war (1941-1945). The transport carried 7,000 military personnel, including 3 complete Hospitals. Being a fast ship the USAT “Mariposa” would not sail in a convoy but cross the Atlantic alone.

They arrived in North Africa, debarking at Casablanca, French Morocco, 24 April 1943. After grouping, checking, and last minute instructions, the personnel disembarked in North Africa, for the majority a totally new world!

95th Stations in North Africa

Casablanca
Oujda, French Morocco – 24 April 1943 > 4 July 1943 (serviced Fifth US Army)

Aïn-et-Turk, Algeria – 6 July 1943 > 16 August 1943 (handled Sicily casualties from “Operation Husky”)

95th in North Africa

Casablanca - The Phony War

 

The 95th Evacuation Hospital was destined to see some real action in WWII.  We sailed from New York on the S.S. Mariposa and our landing area was Casablanca, N. Africa, where we were housed in a school building for 21 days.

When one travels days on a ship that is a plainly marked target for enemy fire, ignorance of what can happen is truly bliss. We had worn our life jackets and attended boat drills religiously. Land was in sight at last. Landing, we consciously felt the earth itself through our shoe soles. Unconsciously, some of us took a deep breath that ended in a little silent prayer of thanks and began to drink in all the newness of a strange country.

Since we docked in the harbor at Casablanca at noon, the only people moving about besides ourselves were the American troops. The boys greeted us warmly, waved and whistled and we heard an occasional “Hi Babe” that our English sisters find so hard to understand. To us these were boys from home, from New York to San Francisco, and they looked good in Africa.

Boarding trucks, in full field pack, we dodged burros, natives and bicycles, gradually winding our way through the streets of the city until we came to the Premiere Internat. This French grammar school was our home from Apr 24-May 16, 1943.

Round up the usual suspects

Jokingly, on the way to the school we searched for “Rick’s Place” and looked for the “Anfa Hotel”. The former we never found; the latter was subsequently pointed out to us by every “eehah” driver in Casablanca. The native coachmen all carry whips which are too frequently used on the horse. The poor creatures were spared only while the driver pointed out the Anfa Hotel to his patrons. Mumbling something that resembled Roosevelt-Churchill, the shrewd old man would say “good” and in the next breath ask for a cigarette.

The Premier Internat formerly housed small boys & girls. It reminded many of us of our children’s wards in larger hospitals at home. We each had our own little cubicle equipped with bed, chair and built-in cupboard. Our mess here was “GI”, but native help was used in caring for dishes, tables,etc.

Our laundress was a petite French woman who cried most of the time. We learned after a time how to keep her happy. Laundry that was promised “domain”, we planned for a week from that day. She was courteous to a degree but completely bewildered by these 24 hour service Americans.

Casablanca was not NYC or Chicago. Siesta time was sacred and very good sense. Those shopping sprees so dear to the heart of every American with lunch at Macy’s tea room was out of the question anywhere in N. Africa. The stores opened between 9-10 AM. Close from 12-3 or 5 PM and open a short time in the evening. Occasionally one might find a small shopkeeper who had had the misfortune to asquire an American business sense but these were few and far between.

Days, the mornings and evenings cool enough for a top coat with the temperature rising steadily until late morning and afternoon were torrid, and slipped by quickly. We rode by the seashore, had dinner at La Reserve, swam at Fedalia and danced at the officers’ club. We visited friends old and new in the other units.

The snow white buildings of Casablanca with their blooming bougainvilla and geraniums tumbling over the walls make the sordid native huts seem even more sordid. In one of these across the street from the nurses’ quarters lived a native family. Mother , father and two small boys. Their house was entirely surrounded by a stone wall. One small room housed the family and on either side sheds held several horses, a cow, one dog, several rabbits and a chicken. Chickens and rabbits and even the cow wandered in and out of the house at will. The mother of this family had cleaned, scrubbed, scoured her copper kettles with earth from the courtyard, curried the horses, screamed at the children and visited with her neighbors. Peeping inside the wall, her dress was a bright yellow or purple curtain-like material covering black or brown pantaloons. Her dark head was turbaned with the same sort of material. Outside she dressed in white, her face veiled. The father we seldom saw. Arabs in every conceivable dress hitched their horses and carts in this courtyard in the early morning and silently slipped out of sight on their return.

During our stay in Casablanca, we heard many rumors of our being used to relieve some of the hospital units already functioning here since the invasion. The 8th Evacuation Hospital interested us particularly for the were set up in tents and were caring for patients returned from the Tunisian campaign. We visited this hospital and asked questions of their doctors and nurses and began to itch for a finger in the pie.

Oudja - An Introduction to the War

Casablanca to Oudja - 48 hours

Oudja bound

Those days after hostilities had ceased in west Africa, we boarded trucks in field uniform and pack, picked up our convoy of officers and men at staging area, Camp Don B. Passage, and headed for Oudja still in French Morocco. we bivouaced one night near the city of Foz, sleeping under the stars in our bedrolls and mosquito nets. Our tent hospital was set up in Oujda, near an olive grove, traveling there by train.  The compartments were meant for 4 but 8 squeezed in and that's where we had our first experience with fleas.  Because I (i.e. Mary) am short, I slept on the floor and was more or less being used as a footstool.

In Oujda, we saw our equipment for the first time.  Tents were set up, equipment uncrated, assorted and assembled. In 6 days we were receiving patients.  At this time our case load was not very heavy.  In fact, we were never very busy while we were stationed in Africa.  So far this had be a beautiful war, however the grim realities of war were soon brought to our attention.

Oudja

On May 24, 1943, we officially opened our hospital. For the first time, our nurses, trained in spic and span, white walled, tiled floored hospitals, began to care for the sick and wounded American soldiers in a field hospital. The wards each held eighteen net covered cots equipped with sheets, pillows and blankets. The bedside table was the soldier’s helmet of his ditty bag. Ditty bags, incidentally, are a very necessary part of a soldier’s equipment. The resemble any woman’s pocket book and sooner or later carry the soldier’s letters, pipe, tooth paste and brush, his razor, nail file, playing cards, souvenirs and even his toilet paper. The desk for the nurse and corpsmen, made from the packing box, was placed at the front of the wards. This held medicines and linens. Ward latrines were commodes screened by GI blankets, and sinks were soakage pits just outside the ward door. Small, two burner gasoline stoves were used for heating and sterilizing our equipment. Ward record forms began to take shape. Our supply rooms, operating rooms and mess began to function and we were ready to admit patients.

On the first day we admitted 109 patients. One nurse and three corpsmen were assigned to each ward during the day. At night, one nurse supervised from 1-3 wards depending upon our case load and worked with the night corpsman assigned to the particular ward. We had 25 nurses working on our wards, 13 in our operating staff and 2 nurses in HQ. the nurses on wards relieved each other for means of supervision on their time off-duty, working 9 hours daily, including their meal-time. Our night duty tour was short, a 12 hour shift. Noise and heat took its toll on sleep and the nurses were relieved after 10 nights of duty. The weather was 120° degrees in the shade. Water towers were set up for us with water constantly falling over our operating tents drastically lowering the temperature and making life somewhat tolerable.

We had 7 surgical and 5 medical wards in our setup in Oujda. This included and officer’s ward for sick nurses and officers. The majority of the cases were medical; 789 as compared with 219 surgical, most of the latter fracture cases. We were located near the 82nd Airborne Division and the 509th Paratroopers. These boys in the jaunty jump suits and boots became as familiar to the 95th as the Fighting 69th was to the the New Yorkers in WWI. The paratroopers “Stand-up - Hook up - Go” & the C47 became a part of every nurse’s vocabulary. A sudden dash toward either ward door by a corpsman, nurses and patients usually meant that a flock of white parachutes were slowly making for the ground on the other side of the olive grove. Practice jump days for the paratroopers was the call to the 95th doctors, nurses and corpsmen to stand by.

Gastro-intestinal disturbances constituted the majority of our medical cases. The boys called them the “bed pan blues”. We had a few casualties within our own unit. One paratrooper, for his unit paper, wrote: “As one sits in his North African, call it what you will, he can see the whole of aforementioned country go by him - And as the dust settles we see a procession that reminds one of the “Big Parade” - this movement of troops to the latrine.” This was literally true. No fatalities resulted and on culture our bacteriologist gave us a report of a Flexner type of dysentery.

...

General Mark W. Clark

On May 20, 1943, we had our first visit from the Commanding General of the 5th Army, General Mark W. Clark. Our hospital diary records the General’s remark about our nurses, quote: “ This is the first time I’ve seen nurses dressed alike.” We have had the misfortune to lose much of our clothing since them, but have tried to earn only praise for our uniform.

At the time of the General’s visit, our nurses were wearing their blue seersucker uniforms, white bandanas to protect their heads and hair from the extreme heat, and their blue socks. Stockings were rationed articles in North Africa.

For recreation there were parties galore. We spent many happy hours at the villa and on the beach at Saidia. We had our own movies and baseball team.

Oran, Algeria

Three days before the Sicilian campaign we moved to Oran in Algeria. This was our first trip on a French operated railway train. It took us 24 hours to cover a 4-5 hour journey. you do not hurry a French engineer any more than you hurry any other Frenchman. he made coffee for us in one of the 48 cars, and visited all of his friends along the run. His excuse, if we protested, was that he was waiting for another trail to clear the track. We saw no other train. Our officers and nurses travelled together in small compartments. our enlisted men were in the 48 cars. The days were full of sunshine and the countryside was beautiful.

At 1:00 Pm we drove into the Nurses’ Staging Area at Ain El Turck located near the city of Oran. This beautiful spot was a real paradise. Through the efforts of Colonel Wilber and General Wilson, floors had been put in the nurses’ tents and gravel walks had been laid. We had our own villa, a beautiful old castle-like structure where we could read and write, or just be in the sun on our off-duty hours. We were a step from the beach and the view of the Mediterranean make all attempts at painting this spot pure blasphemy.

We set up our hospital across the street, and a few days later received our first battle casualties. They were our friends from the 82nd Airborne and one of the nurses so rightly said “It was old home week”. Our patients were the less seriously wounded and had come to us by hospital ship. They had been treated by the field hospitals and battalion aid station men in Sicily. These patients were evacuated shortly to Casablanca and general hospitals near Oran.

Later we had contact with the 3rd, 9th, 34th and 36th divisions, and cared for the accidents and illnesses that resulted from their training programs. 679 surgical patients and 683 medical patients were cared for by our hospital during our stay in Oran. The wards were setup just as they were at Oudja. At times our surgical wards took an overflow of medical patients and vice versa. Approximately 200 of the surgical patients were results of injuries received during the invasion of Sicily. Shell fragments and their wounds were seen by many of us for the first time.

The nurses hours on duty, their night duty tour and the placement of nurses was the same as in our first hospital organization. The nurses’ uniform was the same. The heat here was intense. Dust was plentiful. We found our bandanas ver practical to protect our hair and heads from the sun. We were still wearing our blue seersucker uniforms. Both here and at Oujda our night nurses wore their blue slacks, shirts and blue sweaters. Cotton uniforms are not practical nor considered good health measures for the cold Moroccan or Algerian nights. Our operating staff operated with the full staff of 13 nurses on duty all day, and 1/3 of the group attending night call.

For recreation, the city of Oran was just a few miles away from Ain El Turck. The museums and concert theaters began to open up and they were most pleasant.

On August 16th we closed our hospital doors once again and on Aug 31, 1943, the nurses, along this time, went aboard the “Dutchess of Bedford”, an English ship, Italy bound. Two days later the nurses, still on the “Dutchess” sitting in the harbor at Oran, were asked to leave the ship. All sorts of rumors broke. We were put aboard landing craft, transferred to a French tugboat and taken aboard the American hospital ship “Acadia”. Two days later we landed in Tunisia, and for the first time saw the results of our bombings caused in enemy held territory.We visited historic Carthage and Tunis. We looked for Hill 609.

Editor Note: From wikipedia - The Battle of Hill 609 took place at Djebel Tahent in northwestern Tunisia during theTunisia Campaign. The battle was for control over the key strategic height Hill 609 and its surrounding area between the American forces of the US II Corps and German units of the Afrika Korps.[3] The battle proved a formative experience for the American forces and has been called "the American Army's coming-of-age".[4]



Sicily was ours, finally. There was talk of an invasion of the Italian mainland and we had a hunch we were going along.


TO BE CONTINUED

Copyright © 2015 Dave Hoplin