Ch 33 - Madigan General Hospital, Seattle

CHAPTER 33

MADIGAN GENERAL HOSPITAL, SEATTLE

As I made my way down the gang-plank, barracks bag over my shoulder, bitterness welled up within me. The damp fog penetrated my clothing and my morale. I had so wanted to go to San Francisco!

“Oh well,” I thought, “make the best of it, after all, I’m going home!”

As I stepped onto the pier. I noticed several men were lining up in front of a boxlike cart equipped with two large diameter wheels mounted to the box, and two legs supporting the front handle. As I grew closer, I recognized two Red Cross Ladies manning a doughnut cart. I awaited my turn, gratefully accepted a hot cup of coffee and two doughnuts, and retreated from the congestion to nibble at the doughnuts. Several vehicles in a line emerged from the fog and as they drew near I recognized them as dark colored buses I finished my doughnuts and went to where I left my bag. I had a hunch the buses were here to pick us up.

As I approached the first bus a burly 1st Sergeant cleared his throat and shouted out, “Were loading expatriated POW’s first. Anyone who was a POW start loading on the first bus!”

I grabbed my bag and made my way to the door and climbed on. I grabbed the first seat across from the driver so I could see everything as we headed for our destination, wherever that was! At this time I remembered the fog! Obviously I wouldn’t be seeing much on this trip. As soon as the seats were filled the driver sounded the horn, and we began to move. The bus performed a “U” turn on the pier and moved off into the fog! Shortly we reached a street, and lights began to illuminate our surroundings. Apparently we were still on the base because I couldn’t make out any stores, nor places of business.

The bus rumbled along slowly for ten or fifteen minutes and then turned onto a wide street filled with stores! How I had often dreamed of stores while confined at the Pasay School House! Mostly grocery stores! I had imagined myself walking into a grocery store, and in my dreams, the store was always empty except for me! I could walk down the aisles, touching the packages of cupcakes, the containers of ice cream, always chocolate! I would stroll by the meat cases gazing at the steaks and the pork chops, knowing I could have anything I wanted! The racks of fresh bread, huge red apples! I realized now, this was all real! Why, perhaps even tomorrow I could fulfill all of my dreams! I would go forth and walk through as many stores as I wished! Perhaps I might even buy something!

The bus bounced along a bit longer, then pulled into narrow drive for a short distance, drove under a darkened arch and stopped beside a long, low building that faded into the fog along the drive. I asked the driver where we were, his answer was, “Madigan General Hospital. Everybody out, and into that wide door,” he said loudly.

I grabbed my bag and followed some others that popped up first. As my feet touched the ground I thought, “I’m standing on the USA! I am no longer in the Philippines, and I am not in Japan! I am home....”

We made our way through the door where a doctor or medic motioned for us to follow him down a long hall. Finally he stopped and opened a double door and proceeded us into a fair sized auditorium. He asked us to fill the first row, then when all of the men on our bus were seated, he explained the cards that were being passed out must be filled out to enable the staff to know whom they have, and what they have. Pencils were passed out and everyone proceeded to fill in the required information.

Once the cards were picked up, our group was led down the long hall to yet another hall, to the right along this hall to the wards where we would be staying. The hospital appeared to be new. All of the furniture seemed quite new, the carpets were immaculate and the decor was cheerful.

My bed was near the door, which in turn was quite near the latrine. We were once again gathered together to go to the supply room where we were issued hospital pajamas, a wine colored bath robe and slippers. We received towels, wash cloths and soap and tooth brushes. I carried everything back to my ward and laid it on my bed. Next to our ward was a reading room with newspapers and magazines and comfortable chairs and couches. I thought to myself I could get to like this place!

The following two or three days were busy. We were subjected to various examinations to determine our physical condition. We were also carefully checked for mental deficiencies. This was my first encounter with this type of ‘doctor’, and I was not impressed with their approach. It seemed these people felt they knew what we thought, and what our general attitudes were. After a couple ‘discussions’ with these doctors, I began to realize they did not have the slightest notion of what we had been through, nor the profound effect that many of our experiences had on us.

Another day rolled by, just loafing around and reading. The following morning a notice was posted announcing that we were eligible for day leave to Olympia, and to South Tacoma. I read the proclamation and declared out loud (to myself) that I would visit South Tacoma (wherever that was).

A voice next to me said, “Say, that’s a great idea!” I turned, and was shocked to see an old friend from the Nichols Field detail grinning at me!

I said, “Wow! I haven’t seen a familiar face since I left the 29th Replacement Depot!”

Apparently, he was just as happy to see me. We drifted over to one of the couches and sat, both talking at once. He told me he arrived here almost a week ago, and hoped to head for his home in Texas soon. I told him I just came in three or four days ago. He laughingly remarked he had never observed me wearing hair before and thought I looked better the other way! We decided to get out of the lounging pajamas and get dressed and head for South Tacoma.

Twenty minutes later, after picking up our passes at the front desk, we exited through the wide door and proceeded to the bus stop. Shortly, a bus appeared bearing the label “South Tacoma” and we hopped on and grabbed a seat. I remarked to my newly found friend I just wanted to walk thru stores, to touch things to assure myself all this was real, to enjoy this marvelous sensation of freedom, and this knowing I could buy anything I wanted!

We descended from the bus and stood in wonderment! Both sides of the street were lined with stores! Wherever I looked I gazed upon stores! The corner where we had emerged from the bus was very busy, and we moved off to the side where we could survey the various establishments within our range. My friend mentioned we were standing directly in front of a very large department store and what could be better than scouting through a big department store? I had barely passed through the portals when I remembered one of the key items I had promised to capture once I was within the confines of a big store! A trench coat! That’s what I wanted, a trench coat.

Off to the left, suits and coats were visible. We proceeded to home in on the suits and coats! I asked a salesman if there were trench coats in his department, he pointed to some racks built right into the wall nearby. As we neared the racks, I observed a trench coat on a clothes dummy standing in a cavity in the wall above me.

“That’s what I want, right-up-there!” I pointed.

It was a beautiful trench coat, a very light gray in color, with the straps on the shoulders and large buttons down the front! Of course, my friend opted for one of these trenchcoats also, and soon we swept proudly through the wide doors of the store attired in our brand new coats!

A minor explosion occured at this time, generated by one tall, indignant M.P. that appeared mysteriously from nowhere!

“Hold it!” he says, pointing his stick at us. “You men are wearing an officer’s coat which happens to be breaking the rules!”

I informed him these were not “officer’s coats.” That we had just purchased them in yon department store, and we were unaware that department stores sold “officer’s coats.” He ordered us to return the coats at once, or he would run us in! Obviously, I had no intention of parting with my new coat, something I had set my mind on, long ago in a dismal prison camp guarded by evil Japs bearing mounted bayonets! My friend also had learned to like his coat and indicated he too had absolutely no intention of giving it up.

Our lively discussion had quickly attracted a crowd, and the crowd had already drawn sides, none of which favored the M.P. The crowd, in turn, had attracted a newcomer to our rapidly expanding drama! The Officer of the Day. The new party to join the scene wanted to know what was going on. The M.P. reported these two corporals were disguised as officers, and he would be running them in!

Now the Officer of the day, being somewhat wiser than the M.P., began asking the two of us a few questions. He learned we were located at Madigan General, that we were both recently returned POW’s, and we were out on our first leave since arriving from the Far East. He turned to the M.P. asked if the M.P. remembered the special order stating that returning POW’s were “Gold Plated.”

The M.P. most certainly did.

"And do you know what Gold Plated means?" the O.D. continued, as if talking to a naughty child. The M.P. had little time to reply, for the O.D. answered his own question.

"Gold Plated means that these POW fellows have to be practically murdering someone before you can even arrest them!"

The M.P. wandered away, shaking his head. He was certainly not only now aware of the order, he was aware he was aware of the dire consequences if he were to ever forget the existence of said order!

The Officer of the Day cautioned the two of us to take good care of our new coats, and to proceed with our foray into the “civilized” world. We thanked him graciously and went on our way, seeking out new quests on the crowded sidewalks of South Tacoma.

We walked through numerous stores, had a pleasant lunch, then continued to walk through many more stores, every kind this new country of ours had to offer. Wherever we ventured, we were welcomed with kindness and understanding, and the smiling faces were unaware we were ex-POW’s. To these people, we were soldiers returning home. Some shook our hand and others gave us a hug and wished us luck. I had a very warm feeling as I walked under the arch in front of the Madigan General Hospital.

The following morning, my friend and I set out for Olympia which was located near Ft. Lewis where Madigan was situated. When we descended from the bus, we discovered the Olympia Ice Rink was in the same block. My friend informed me an ice rink was a collection point for flocks of pretty girls, and what could be more enticing than girl watching? Happily we entered the rink, not to skate, but to watch pretty girls gliding along on their silver skates! We found that outside the railing, theater type seats were available for onlookers. We also found numerous service men were here already, enjoying the graceful skaters and the pleasant music. After more than an hour we decided to go forth and search for new challenges, and within less that one block of the rink we encountered a movie theater offering not one, but two features!

After two movies, we succumbed to hunger and drifted into a restaurant featuring giant hamburgers and french fries, my first since returning to the U.S. I was quick to realize hamburgers and fries were at the top of my list of favorite foods.

I also found my capacity for food did not equal the size of my appetite! I couldn’t eat a third of the sandwich, nor put a dent in the french fries. The bottom line was I could not eat very much! During a discussion with one of the doctors the following day, I broached the question. He informed me our long sojourn in the prison camps without sufficient food, and particularly very little solid foods, had caused our stomachs to shrink, and our capacity to decrease over the long period of time. He told me it would be some time before we would be normal, and feel normal. He recommended the best approach would be, eat more often, but eat less. He believed we should eat five or six times a day, but small amounts. Just take it slow and easy. I’ve never forgotten his advice.

Quite often, large posters appeared, or flash notices were passed around, announcing USO groups coming to Madigan to entertain the men. Many were well known show people and I enjoyed numerous evenings at their performances in the auditorium.

I stayed around the hospital for the next two or three days. I was lying on my bed reading when one of my acquaintances popped through the door and seeing me he pointed at me and yelled, “You’re on the list!”

“What list?” I wondered.

He led me to a bulletin board outside the cafeteria. Several sheets were posted and he showed me the sheet bearing my name. Sure enough my name, together with twelve or fifteen others was listed. The paragraph at the top of the list indicated departure time was 8:00am the following morning. After reading the note I saw each of the sheets listed a different departure, and each group was a different size.

That evening I saw many of the men were saying goodbye to each other in case they failed to see their friends at breakfast. Apparently the different groups were bound for various destinations.

I made a pass through each of the wards before hitting my bed, hoping to catch anyone I served with during the war, or in the prison camps. I thought, foolishly, I was leaving it all behind. I would have been shocked to know how often, during the following fifty-seven years I would attend POW Conventions, that I would be looking for familiar faces and seeking to share experiences with buddies from my Regiment, my Battery, and the numerous POW camps of the Philippines and of Japan!

CHAPTER 34

Photo Gallery | 59th CA Personnel Roster | 60th CA Personnel Roster | Return to The Website