January 26, 1944 – 75 years ago in a WW2 M.A.S.H. Unit

January 26, 1944
Conclusion of No. 1

Dear Folksies,

        You’ll be interested to know that we have had weekly medical conferences here, the job of presenting the conferences being alternated between hospitals. Our last one was a really good one, given by Mattie, Bret, Wally and Frank. Heard one at another place last week, and decided I better look up our diphtheria figures, as they do not agree with theirs. Incidentally, we have had two cases of cutaneous diphtheria, which have been very interesting. Russ Klein and George Armanini are writing them up. I have one diptheria myocarditis, which, if I can induce the Sicilians to let me get an EKG, may also be of writable interest.

          Jack Dunlap, who was our Lab Tech Sgt. in Africa, has been one of my roommates here. He’s an Evac. Officer and now has a new job, which is that of liaison officer between the unit and the Italian unit we have attached to us – i.e. they were originally prisoners working here under guard, but now they are an Italian service unit. They have three of their own officers staying with us, but, unfortunately, none of the officers speak English and Jack doesn’t speak Italian, so it all still has to be done via interpreters.

            I had a little side-trip the other evening — went with Roy Hangar and Al Querhammer. Roy is the Sgt. who went around with me most of the time in my Supply days in Africa and Al is the night man on in Surgery – a former Chicago funeral director, embalmer, etc. Anyway, we set out of here in the old jeep, which has recently had a coat of paint, and went to the town of Tripani where, among other things, we visited the little town of Erice — the “City in the Clouds” as described by Bob Ripley in one of his “Believe it or Not” cartoons. We were there just before the moon came up. It was plenty dark and we couldn’t find a thing, but finally we found a door part-way open and a little light coming out of the crack. So Hangar opens the door further and sees a bar with some men (Sicilians) around it so he asked “Does anyone talk English here?” expecting that someone would make a feeble attempt. He gets the answer, “What do you want?” in perfect English and was rather astounded. It turned out that one of the men was the postmaster of the little town (a 1300 B.C. town) and he was formerly of Detroit Michigan and intended going back there after the war. Yes, funny things do happen.

            Yes, Mom, I have picked up some Italian here and there and do fairly well with it at times. I know how the shortage is at home, but deviled ham is always welcome, Mom. However, don’t for a minute think that we don’t get enough to eat. It is little things like that, however, that do make a difference from time to time. Right now, with our Club, we are living in luxury for we have a couple of little electric plates right in the Bar and though eggs are expensive (15 cents apiece) we manage to get a goodly supply, and at night we have been having fried eggs with or without toast. Have also been having toasted cheese sandwiches, which we make on our own toaster – Bret Smart’s invention – taking two small electric heaters and turning one upside down and bolting it about 2-inches above the other one – so both sides of the bread get toasted at the same time. ‘Tis really neat, and, as I have said before, we are considered to have the best Officers’ Club Bar and Snack Room in the whole area.

                                                                                            Loads of love,



Watch for my next letter
on February 5, 1944

Russell Klein recently wrote up two cases of cutaneous diptheria, but still had time to take his turn at bat in the baseball game.

One evening Roy Hangar, Al Querhammer and René took a jeep to go visit the “little town of Erice — the ‘City in the Clouds.'”

(Photo courtesy of James Campbell)

René at the Officers’ Club.


January 28, 1944 – 75 years ago in a WW2 M.A.S.H. Unit

Unbeknownst to René, on January 28, 1944, Yvette Baumann Bernard (his second cousin) and her husband Jean-Guy Bernard were arrested by the Gestapo in their apartment in Paris.

Both held senior positions in the Resistance, and Yvette, who was 25 years old, was 8 months pregnant.

In an interview in 1980, Yvette recounted what happened that night:

“When they knocked on the door, it was a Sunday night, the 28th of January 1944 in Paris. We were arrested at rue Boissy d’Anglas. Jean-Guy had a secretary who had been arrested three weeks earlier, so we had left the apartment. She was interrogated, but said nothing and we thought we could return. It is at that moment that she talked. I believe that she was horribly tortured. I never wanted to see her again and I could never bear to hear her name. It was not her fault, but she could have committed suicide – others had done that – it would have been better. 

Anyway, they knocked. I was in the kitchen and Jean-Guy opened the door. It was a very little apartment with two rooms and a kitchen. When I didn’t hear anything, I went into the other room. Jean-Guy was sitting in a chair with his hands bound behind his back. I had three or four pistols pointed at me. They were plainclothes types, including a woman, and I realized afterwards that I had seen her before on the street. Some were French and one or two were Germans.”

To read more about René’s French relatives, click here.

Yvette Baumann Bernard and Jean-Guy Bernard on their wedding day– October 8, 1943

February 5, 1944 – 75 years ago in a WW2 M.A.S.H. Unit

February 5, 1944
No. 2

Dear Folksies,

            Gee, I didn’t realize that so much time had elapsed since my last epistle to you, but I have really been kept plenty busy. Tho’ most of the hospital has been going along pretty much on an even keel, I, for some reason or other managed to get some cases that kept me hopping (more of these in a minute), and then I was working on a survey of our diphtheria cases (ie. all that we have classified as such in the last 4 mos.) and had to present a paper on this subject, along with the two cases of cutaneous diphtheria, before the assembled multitude of other M.D.’s at our conference on Tuesday of this week.

            Needless to say, I cannot give you figures, but our biggest difficulty has been in deciding just what to call some of the cases. We have had so many cases where the patient does not have clinical diphtheria, yet has a positive throat culture and positive fermentation and virulence test. Then, again, there have been cases that have been very definitely clinical diphtheria with positive cultures, fermentation & virulence tests, and yet these same people are definitely known to have negative Schick tests. Why?

            The other cases that have kept me busy were a couple of pneumonia cases – virus type – that, of course, didn’t respond to sulfa, but strangely enough had terrific headaches until the day that we stopped the sulfa…and then they made a most dramatic recovery symptomatically, despite the fact that during the whole course of sulfa (6 days) their chest findings and chest x-ray findings increased startlingly — so that whereas when they came in they had minimal amount of pneumonitis, after all that sulfa, they had each one a whole lobe involved.

           Our basketball team has kept me sort of busy, as they have played about three nights per week — unfortunately they have not done very well. They seem to do the best against the good teams and then proceed to take a real beating from the teams that they should beat easily. As a consequence we are pretty low on the list.

           George Wood was transferred to a Field Hospital, to be Surgical Chief. He will likely get a promotion, but he didn’t care about that and wanted to stay here. Why the transfer, je ne sais pas? George has always been a quiet one and has not made a noise about anything at any time, as Cohn has. I really feel terrible, for George had become quite a good friend in the last few months and I shall miss him greatly.

          Also, of the Majors he was by far the best liked by the enlisted men, with the possible exception of Wally Greene. George was plenty unhappy about the transfer. He had asked for one almost a year ago, but had since become very happy here and didn’t want to leave.

            On the other hand, Roy has asked and asked and asked, but to no avail – the Col. won’t let him go. I imagine the main reason he won’t let Roy go is that if anything happened to Mattie, actually none of the others have the push to do the things Roy would do if he had to take over. Despite the fact that he is always griping about something, Roy is one smart cookie, and darn few ever disagree with him medically and find themselves right. On other subjects, well – I won’t go into that here.

                                                                                            Loads of love,



Watch for the rest of this letter
on February 8, 1944

René says that the enlisted men’s most well liked Major is Dr. Wally Greene.

René is going to miss George Wood, who is being transferred to a Field Hospital to be Surgical Chief – a move George evidently doesn’t want to make.

Meanwhile, Roy Cohn has been asking for a transfer, but Colonel Bolibaugh won’t let him leave the 59th.

February 8, 1944 – 75 years ago in a WW2 M.A.S.H. Unit

February 8, 1944
Conclusion of No. 2

Dear Folksies,

            You should have seen me the other night. Not having slept well, and having been up rather late for several nights in a row, I decided that I would take some sodium amytal and go to bed early and get a good sleep, a restful one. So, I took 3 grs. of sodium amytal at about 8:45 P.M. Then, just before getting to bed I remember that I wanted to tell Kay Magee something, so I hike over to her office, and while there I find that there have been reports of 3 more positive Diptheria cultures on wards other than mine, so that those three cases had to be transferred to my ward that night.

             So I decide I better take a look at them to decide whether to give antitoxin or not – Bill Drew was medical O.D., but I figured I better do my own looking, so I call Liz on the phone and have her skin test the one case that I knew was the only one really sick, i.e. test him for sensitivity to antitoxin. And then I went up to the ward and after looking all three over I decided I wouldn’t give any of them the A-T that night. I finally went to bed at 10:15 P.M., a bit groggy from the sod-amytal.

             Then, at 4 A.M. one of the boys comes over with a note from Liz, saying that one of my patients was having difficulty breathing and questioned whether she should give him antitoxin. Well, I was going to write to tell her to go ahead and give it, but then thought of the case at SF Hospital that I had had, where the kid stopped breathing just after getting the A-T and how susceptible the laryngeal dips are to such a thing, so decided to go over and have another look at him and to stay there while he got his antitoxin. So, while Liz gave it, I lay down on the desk — soon was fast asleep.

             Kay Magee came around and put a blanket over me, and the next thing I knew it was 6:55 A.M. and the day shift was just coming to work. Liz said that she was just going to let me sleep there, right on into the day shift, if I hadn’t awakened by myself. She even put me on the “Night Report” that went into Miss Diffley: reporting the bed number as “table-top,” my complaints as being “not being served breakfast in bed,” etc. Rather surprised that Miss D. hasn’t said anything about it, but have heard that she got a big kick out of it.

            We have been using Penicillin recently, and Carroll Russell gave a short paper on some of our results the other day when we had the Conference. So far, results in G.C.’s have been rather disappointing, however, since the potency differs in different lots and different manufacturers’ products. Perhaps with larger doses we may find it to be truly effective. Certainly, so far, there is nothing at all startling.

             Regarding leave — I find that the three days with the men doesn’t count as “leave” at all, so I may take one sometime in the future. Right now I have no desire to. When you talk of responsibility in that set-up, however, well, there really was darn little. I knew the gang I took, knew them very well, and knew just what to expect all the way along. In fact, two of them are far better friends than any of the officers could ever be.

                                                                                            Loads of love,



Watch for my next letter
February 12, 1944

Dr. Bill Drew

Nurse Liz Liss

February 12, 1944 – 75 years ago in a WW2 M.A.S.H. Unit

February 12, 1944
No. 3

Dear Folksies,

            This week our basketball team didn’t do so badly. They won a game for a change and then proceeded to give the M.P.’s a good fight, only to lose by a few points. However, that M.P. game was really not much of a basketball game, for the M.P.s used a combination of M.P. and football tactics and it was a plenty rough and dirty game.

            Phil Johnson is leaving us in a couple of days – going to a Station Hospital. I haven’t heard from George Wood as yet. We finally got what we should have had for a long time, and that is an EENT man. His name is Capt. Earl Slaughter and he seems quite nice and apparently is a very good man. He hails from somewhere in the middle-west.

         Yes, Mom, I would like some more deviled ham, not, however, too much, but just enough for an occasional taste, therefore the small cans are better. As for candy, I’d just as leave wait a bit, as we are now getting some at the PX. And though not much, it is enough to keep us going, particularly since the food of recent weeks has been pretty good.

            Dad, your letter certainly did an excellent job of cheering-up and I certainly don’t see what more you could say or how anyone could ever say it any better.

           Mom, It is difficult to express just how much I appreciated the thoughts in your recent letter. In reading both yours and Dad’s letters I felt that, gosh, after all, these many thousands of miles that separate us physically are really not so far after all.

            Lois left here a few days ago and is now somewhere back in Africa at a small station hospital. This place is no longer the same and Isolation is no longer running smoothly as it had under her hands.

            As far as saying things to others [about Lois], well, I think it better be done. You’d better tell the Cerfs, Eisenbachs, Gram and Henriette, since I think that Lois said something in postals she wrote them thanking them for presents. I hope that those postals do not beat this letter. Perhaps they have. Those are the only ones I know of to whom she wrote, so the subject can just be dropped as far as others are concerned and they will soon forget it undoubtedly.

                                                                                            Loads of love,



Watch for my next letter
February 17, 1944

René tells his parents that “the food of recent weeks has been pretty good.”

Postcard that Lois sent to René’s uncle and aunt – Lou and Marie Cerf
{Click to Enlarge}

René tells his parents that Phil Johnson is leaving the 59th Evac. Hospital to go work at a Station Hospital.