Adventures of a World War II Army Nurse

Adventures of a World War II Army Nurse

Adla Shaker Hannon

Edited by Renee Kestenbaum

Prepared for Publication by Michael Morris

Smashwords Edition

Copyright Stories To Tale 2011

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

ISBN 10: 0-9837743-1-5

ISBN 13: 978-0-9837743-1-0

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part,

or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission

of the publisher.

Copyright © 2011 by Stories to Tale. All rights reserved.

Published by Stories To Tale, a division of ACM Records, Inc.

Stories to Tale and associated logos are registered trademarks of ACM Records, Inc. For information regarding permission, or to order additional copies of this book, write to:

Stories to Tale, PO Box 195,

Fair Lawn, New Jersey, 07410

U.S.A.

Prologue

November 11, 2003

Veteran’s Day

Sarah Elizabeth Malloy, R.N, approached her first patient, one of five total care patients she had been assigned. She was hopeful that with some good organization, she could complete their care before lunchtime.

As she opened the blinds in the first room she realized the patient, a woman in her fifties, was ashen gray and listless. She quickly checked her pulse. It was rapid, irregular and thready. When she pulled her cover down to check the abdominal incision, it took all of her professional training to keep from crying out in horror. The wound had eviscerated, and the woman’s gown and sheets were saturated with blood. She pulled the call bell, hoping to get a supervisor, but as she looked for dressings and fresh linens five minutes went by with no one responding to her call. She picked up the patient’s phone to place a call to her doctor but there was no dial tone. Perhaps the patient had refused having this extra cost. She had to secure a new dressing, provide dry linens but the cupboards in the room for storing linen, surgical dressings, and other patient needs, usually well stocked by now, were empty. Sarah couldn’t believe that the few sheets still on the shelves were wrinkled and soiled.

She found one clean towel that she secured over the wound then rushed out to the nurse’s station for help. Not possible, she thought, not a soul in the corridor and even the unit clerk was not at her desk. She had never used the complicated desk phone, and somehow she didn’t succeed in pushing any of the right buttons.

She ran back into the patient’s room to assure her she’d be right back. Sarah needed supplies so she rushed down the corridor toward central supply hoping someone would be at the nearby nurse’s station; but this unit had been closed due to shortage of patients. Sarah decided to rush to get supplies she would need for all her patients and get back on time to reach the doctor. She chose to use the elevator instead of stairs to get to the right department. She’d been there many, many, times but suddenly she realized as she got off the elevator, that she was in a dark, dusty corridor she did not recognize. Sarah wondered, should she turn right or left? She was alone. Oh Lord, I must get back to care for my five patients, she thought. She turned left. She must be in the cellar as dusty pipes and heating units surrounded her. Sarah turned back almost running until she found herself in a long hall with high ceilings. It looked more promising and led to a side door exit. Her heart was pounding madly. Sarah was afraid she was losing her mind. She prided herself on knowing every inch of her hospital. Oh, God, she cried, help me! What is happening? She made a quick decision to go through the exit and find her way back to the front entrance. Maybe in her hurry she had pushed the wrong button on the elevator. At the front entrance she would be in familiar territory and then be more careful about what buttons she pushed. She needed to get back to her patients. How was she ever going to complete giving all of them care, especially since she needed much more time with her first patient? She could be critical by now, because Sarah feared she had not been able to alert anyone else to the patient’s condition.

As she made her way into the front entrance, her chest tightened; she could hardly breathe. This was not her hospital. Instead she was standing in a room from the early 1900s, furnished with antique love seats and lamps with ornate fringed lampshades. She had the frightening realization that she had somehow slipped back in time. She was all alone. Gripped with fear, she cried out, My patients, I need to get back to my patients!

As she struggled to find her way, she suddenly and gratefully awakened. Thank God, she thought, my crazy dream again. She glanced at the clock by her bedside. Time to get up. That dream always left her shaken and tense, so she sat down hoping to relax with a hot cup of tea before having her usual light breakfast. She hated that dream. It always left her feeling very sad and with the frustration of unfinished business. After her last spoon of cereal she walked lethargically to the sink. When she finished placing the last dish in the dishwasher, she glanced up just in time to see the brilliant crimson feathers of a male cardinal through her kitchen window. Being able to watch the myriad colors of birds that came to feast at her birdfeeder would always result in a mood lift. Earlier she was fortunate enough to see the sunshine colors of a golden finch that also afforded her a spurt of joy. Unfortunately, today her feelings of pleasure were very short-lived and fleeting.

This was November 11, 2003, Veteran’s Day, two years and two months after September 11. Her neighbors, who like her had not forgotten the surrealistic experiences of seeing the collapse of the Twin Towers, displayed the stars and stripes from their homes and cars. This was her day. She was a bona fide veteran who had served as an army nurse during World War II. Her beloved husband, Charlie Malloy, also a veteran, had also served as an army medic in World War II, and later as an army doctor during the Korean War.

It had been four years since Charlie had succumbed to cancer, and while she was now over the acute sense of loss, she still found herself thinking, I’ve got to call Charlie and tell him about this. However, she realized soon after the thought struck her that it would have to be long distance.

Even over seventy. Sarah was still effectively teaching young men and women to be certified nurse’s assistants. Her students ranged in age from eighteen to fifty plus. Former students staffed all the nearby hospitals and health care facilities in the area. Some of her students had even given loving care to her beloved Charlie during the terminal phase of his illness.

As she wandered around the smaller retirement home she designed and had built a year before, she found herself searching for answers.

Sarah had all the walls painted a very light, rosy mauve which should help banish depression, and the open space design to prevent claustrophobia. Today it was not working. She had passed through the dining room that led into what many people referred to as a Florida Room. Windows on all sides faced a natural woodland, squirrels and chipmunks scampered about, and birds with both muted and colorful feathers flew close enough for Sarah to feel, she could almost touch them. Earlier she had watched a family of about six wild turkeys strut through her yard. Sarah wondered laughing to herself, if they knew how close it was to Thanksgiving. But now the clouds closed in even more, to partially conceal the sun. The leaves had clung to the trees much longer than usual, their gold, crimson and soft brown color somehow brightening the darkening sky. However, as she watched, many leaves were gently leaving their mother’s arms and slowly touching the earth with a soft whisper. Watching the end of a season only added to her sorrow.

She found herself debating if it would help to catch up on dusting, laundry or the multitude of tasks that needed completion, or start reading one of the books she had recently purchased. She approached the book shelves, built on either side of her fireplace, when her attention was drawn to an album that contained many old, faded photographs of the period in her life when Sarah was part of the 135th Evacuation, a MASH-type hospital unit. Her hand passed over Mary Higgins Clark and John Grisham. Instead she pulled out the album with photos and memories that captured a time in her life when intense feelings of patriotism and a sense of adventure had driven a twenty-year-old girl to enlist so many years ago. For her seventieth birthday, her children had gathered all the photos and small mementos of her time in the service as an army nurse. They had somehow found many forgotten photos in drawers and shoeboxes and organized a very impressive album. Even a copy of her discharge papers with her maiden name, Hakobian, was included in this exceptional gift.

It was difficult to believe that so many years had passed since that young

girl had rushed to enlist on September 20, 1944, the day after she learned she had passed her state boards. Her first official portrait in uniform was one that Charlie and her children had now insisted on duplicating and framing to place on the piano. It was the favorite not only of her children, but her grandchildren as well. People often commented that she looked like a movie star with smiling eyes and even white teeth. Her cap, worn at the appropriate rakish angle, rested on short, dark curls. Even with her still smooth, unwrinkled skin, she could not see any resemblance to that lovely, hopeful girl in the photo.

Her dream at the end of her army career was to go to the University and advance her nursing education and to some day write about the exceptional men and women she cared for. She had accomplished the graduate work in nursing with a degree in Public Health and Education and with a minor in Creative Writing from Catholic University of Washington, D.C. But her dreams of writing a novel about the adventures she had experienced and places she had seen seemed to be more elusive than ever.

When her son recently found information on the Internet about her unit and the ship that had transported her to Europe, he presented Sarah with the detailed information for another birthday.

Too many years had passed and she felt sadness and a deep sense of unfulfillment knowing she had never written the novel she had dreamed of writing. Always too busy with education, nursing, teaching and raising a family had been her excuse. Someday was always in the very near future. Coming to the last phase of her life, Sarah suddenly realized with utmost clarity that someday is NOW or never. She felt almost certain that the dream that taunted her so often would be abolished if she finally took action.

She closed the album. What she now needed was to banish the feelings of frustration and unfulfillment, and to record the memories and all her adventures for her children and grandchildren. Some day was now, November 11,

2003. She found pen and paper, sat down and started her novel. Without hesitation the first words she wrote was the title, The Adventures of a World War II Army Nurse. Perfect, she thought, it could now really reflect her love of country that had always been a part of her heritage.

I know, Mom, but I just heard the news about Japan’s bombing Pearl Harbor. I had to get home, Mom. We are really going to be at war. Martha gasped, I haven’t had the radio on, this is terrible!

Looking at her daughter’s worried face, it was hard to believe she would not turn eighteen until February 2nd, she shook her head. All the young men who graduated from high school with you will be called to serve. I’m happy your brother won’t be eighteen for three years. It should be over by then.

I don’t know, Mom, Hitler is getting more outrageous each day. We’ll probably be fighting on both sides of the continent. We could get attacked on the Pacific by Japan, and we could get attacked on the Atlantic by Hitler’s navy or air force.

Martha shook her head, We are a powerful country Sarah, I don’t see that.

Chapter 1

The Adventures of a World War Two Army Nurse

December 7, 1941

Sarah Elizabeth Hakobian, a probationary student nurse since September 7th at St. Rose’s School of Nursing suddenly pushed aside her anatomy and chemistry notes. The background study music she had been listening to on her radio was interrupted by the distinctive voice of John Cameron Swazie.

At 7:55 A.M, Japan in a surprise attack bombed the American Fleet stationed at Pearl Harbor. As John Cameron Swazie filled in the horrifying details of the bombing, the extent of the tragedy began to really penetrate Sarah’s mind. The pain and sorrow she felt was almost physical and tomorrow’s dreaded chemistry and anatomy exam forgotten as the significance of the news really sunk in.

She had three hours before reporting for duty. She grabbed her coat and gloves; she needed to touch base with her parents and grandparents. This was war and war meant more people would die or at least be maimed.

Her walk home was close to a mile and Sarah was soon running up her driveway to reach the back door of the kitchen. The family always ignored the front door to pass through the large kitchen which was where somehow the Hakobians, her brother and younger sister and parents always gravitated. Busy buttering large sheets of philo dough, her mother, Martha, gave a startled jump and scream as Sarah rushed in letting the screen door slam loudly behind her.

Gee Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you to death.

It’s okay, her mother answered as she wiped her fingers on a small towel to give her daughter a firm hug. I was really concentrating on this Baklava. It’s part of the baking I’m getting ready for the church fair. By the way, I thought you had so much studying to do that we wouldn’t see you for a few days.

Mom, if the war lasts three years, I’m going to enlist as a nurse.

Shaking her head her mother protested, As I said, Sarah, we are a powerful country, we’ll be able to finish those monsters off long before you graduate.

Returning to her Baklava, Martha said, Put on a pot of tea, I’ve got to finish this pastry before my philo dough dries out.

Sarah grabbed an apple from the bowl. No tea, Mom, I only have time enough to see dad and grandpa at the store.

Martha smiled; Sarah was always a daddy and granddaddy’s girl. The news was shattering enough, and she knew her daughter had to touch base with all her family.

As Sarah rushed the short distance to the grocery store and soda fountain her father and grandfather owned, she wondered if her father on hearing the news would regret he would be too old at forty-one to enlist. When he was sixteen, he had without letting his father know, enlisted for World War I. He was able to convince the man in charge that he was twenty-one. His father finally received a letter letting him know that his son was based at Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas, a proud member of the cavalry division of the infantry.

Her dad still loved horses and Sarah could see him looking very handsome and professional astride the chestnut mare when he had time to indulge his passion at a friend’s stable.

From a distance, Sarah could see her grandfather through the large glass windows assisting a customer select fresh produce. The cold December air had the store sign, Hakobian’s Fine Foods stirring in the breeze. Fresh fruit and a banana split were illustrated on either corner of the sign. The banana split was to indicate the presence of Hakobian’s famous soda fountain.

As she entered the store her senses as always were pleasantly assaulted with the blended fragrances of fresh fruit and vegetables, spices, baked ham and fresh baked bread. Sarah’s father had always said that she was the Hakobian good luck penny. On the day she was born, the butcher shop, next to their larger store became available. Both her dad and grandfather felt they needed to expand their business to include fresh meat, and a fancy deli, and quickly secured the space as their own. Her grandmother was responsible for the mouthwatering scents of baked ham, beef, bread and the assortment of casseroles and salads very much in demand.

Her grandmother, Sophia, always went home after 1:00 P.M. when all of her deli creations were completed.

Hakobian’s was one of the largest and most popular stores in town. Sarah and many old time customers were delighted that when they proceeded to enlarge and modernize the store, they agreed to keep the soda fountain. It had been a part of the store when her grandfather had originally purchased the business and it remained a very popular place for families and dating teenagers.

Jimmy Haggerty, a senior in Knollwood High School, Sarah’s alma mater, efficiently manned the soda fountain at 2:00 P.M. every day. He had told her grandfather that his income would be saved so he could attend Brown University, his dad’s Alma Mater. The recent depression meant that many eligible young people needed help with tuition.

Since her grandfather was still busy ringing up the last customer’s purchases, Sarah pulled up her tiny five foot frame onto the high soda fountain stool. Jimmy greeted her with his usual smile, and proceeded to create Sarah’s favorite pineapple soda.

Looking intently at Jimmy as he added the last touch of whipped cream to top the soda, Sarah asked, What do you think about this horrible attack on Pearl Harbor?

As Jimmy handed her his elegant creation, he shook his head, his thoughts paralleling hers, I guess I’ll have to enlist when I graduate in June.

How about Brown University where your dad went?

Jimmy smiled, I’ll do college when this war is over. I should get some consideration for enlisting instead of waiting to be drafted.

Having completed his transaction with the customer, Sarah’s granddad climbed the stool next to his granddaughter, To what do I owe this wonderful visit? he asked.

You may think I’m crazy, granddad, but when I heard about Pearl Harbor, I was so upset about the loss of all those seamen that I had to be with my family, even for a short while. Looking around, Sarah continued, By the way, where’s my dad?

He’s at the wholesale picking up fresh produce, but he’s been gone so long I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t stopped by the armory to enlist. Sarah gasped, He’s forty-one grandpa, he’s too old to enlist!

With his arm quickly encircling her waist, her grandfather hastened to reassure, Sarah, darling, I was only kidding but to tell the truth, I think we would both enlist if we could, especially our family. We owe this country so much that I’d be willing to lay down my life for this country. Don’t be too surprised if your dad and I don’t end up at the recruitment center and try anyway, he laughed.

Smiling, Sarah gave her grandfather a hug. Ever since she could remember a day would not go by without hearing grandfather declare his love for his adopted country. In a way it was more of a heartfelt prayer. God bless this country and its people and let it continue to grow in beauty and wisdom. Grandma and dad, when they were near always responded with, Amen. While he spoke English very well, he was able to wax more poetic in Armenian so his prayer to America was always in his native language.

Sarah, we have your little sister, Justine and your brother, Joe, who won’t be eighteen for three years, but from the youngest to the oldest, we will all be called on to do our part for the war effort.

I know grandpa, President Roosevelt will be speaking to the country this evening. We can also check with the Red Cross and see how we can help families from Pearl Harbor. Every American has to do his or her part. I just wish I was finished with my nursing course, I’d be right there with you and dad enlisting. A look of shock passed over her grandfather’s face before he responded. You’re only a young woman. Young women don’t belong on the battlefield, Sarah. No, grandpa, I will be a registered nurse. I’ll need to be near the battlefield to help heal the wounded.

She was grateful when Harry a clerk called out, Mr. Hakobian, can I see you? With a final squeeze of her hand, her grandfather left to talk with his clerk.

Jimmy smiled, Having you wanting to enlist kinda shook up Mr. Hakobian. Jimmy, Sarah responded, "if the war is still on, no question, I’m enlisting.

I’m sure I’ll find a way to get my family to accept the fact that it would be the best way for me to do my part."

Without turning, Sarah recognized Mrs. Benevenuto’s voice as she approached the soda fountain, almost shouting, How’s my Mr. Sunshine? This was the pet name the lively, eighty-year-old had for Jimmy Haggerty. She never missed a day as long as the streets weren’t icy or covered with snow to enjoy a hot fudge sundae. With grandpa’s approval Jimmy always added extra nuts, cherries and whipped cream over a mountain of ice cream and chocolate sauce. She would stay to visit with the many customers long after her sundae was devoured.

Her smile widened as she caught sight of Sarah. So I hear you’re going to be a nurse—you’ve always been a sweet, kind girl, she added.

As Sarah turned to thank Mrs. Benevenuto, her eyes caught sight of her father’s truck turning into the driveway heading for the rear of the store. She slid down to the floor with a thump in her hurry to see her dad. Joe the clerk hurried to the back entrance with Sarah to help her father unload. Boxes of pears, apples and grapes had to be unloaded and as her father headed to the store, he held a large bunch of green bananas in his arms. His eyes lit up when he caught sight of his daughter. She walked along with him as he headed for the center display of shiny apples, oranges and pears.

A low hanging hook from the ceiling was used to hang the huge bunch of bananas to complete the artistic arrangement of fruit below.

We really can’t improve on nature, he remarked as he observed Sarah gazing at the long banana stalk with clusters or hands of bananas so evenly and symmetrically arranged by nature."

I know Dad, but you are really an artist when you arrange the fruits and vegetables in the store.

Her father, a virile, handsome, broad shouldered man, with a bronzed skin, green smiling eyes, wasn’t sure he wanted to be known as an artist. Sarah, tiny in stature was a very feminine version of her father with large, hazel eyes and the same glowing, bronzed skin.

After hanging the bananas, her dad grabbed her hand, The way I arrange the fruit and vegetables is just good business. When the customer sees everything looking so colorful and fresh, they end up buying things they had no previous plan to buy in the first place. Sarah nodded in agreement.

When produce was still good but had lost its crispness, it ended up in her grandmother or mother’s kitchen where it was quickly prepared and placed into mason jars. In those jars, the peaches, pears, tomatoes or vegetables were no longer rejects but very desirable treats when items like summer peaches were out of season.

Looking up at her father, Sarah said, Granddad was joking when he said you were late because you stopped at the recruitment center to enlist.

Her father laughed, Sarah, if they would take me I wouldn’t hesitate. We are going to need men in Europe to get rid of Hitler and in the Pacific to take care of Japan.

I wish I was at the end of my nursing course, Dad. I’d really want to enlist. Her father’s look of shock almost mirrored that of his father. Sarah, you can do your part right here. We soon will be asked to do all kinds of volunteer work to help with the war effort.

Glancing at her watch, Sarah gave her father a quick hug, "I’ve got to get going, but I just needed to see everyone after hearing about all the death at Pearl

Harbor. All of the new students have to help with some patient care, and then the evening meal."

Do you still like what you’re doing? her father asked with a worried look on his face.

Yes, dad I really do.

As Sarah walked back quickly to St. Rose’s in the chill December afternoon, she knew why her father worried about her choice to enter nursing school. She had debated about becoming a journalism major. She had been editor of her award winning high school newspaper, and her senior yearbook.

The Veteran’s of Foreign Wars annually conducted an essay contest on democracy. Sarah had entered in her junior and senior year when she won the local and state contest for two years. In her senior year, she also placed 10th in the whole country.

Writing with feeling about democracy and freedom was not anything

Sarah had just to imagine. Her grandparents often spoke about the massacre of Armenians as long ago as 1877 and 1878 by the Ottoman Turks and the Russians. Granddad’s parents escaped Armenia with their neighbors, the Komerjians on a makeshift raft type of vessel across the black sea when he was only 8 years old. They landed in Beirut, Lebanon only after being rescued by a fisherman when they were in danger of drowning.

Unfortunately, the Hakobians and the Komerjians found that the Ottoman Turks were as deeply entrenched in all of Syria, including the province of Lebanon, but concerned Christian Lebanese housed and helped them until they were able to establish a small café that had been abandoned by the original owner who had been able to escape to Australia.

The Hakobians and Komerjians pooled the resources they had escaped with from Armenia. The Ottoman Turks had to eat too, and often partook of the food from the Armenian café and since the cuisine appealed to them, they left them alone. What they learned as their children were growing up was that the Ottomans had prevented the Christians from establishing schools. Books and primers were more valuable than gold and hidden to prevent discovery. It was from their parents that he and his future wife, Sophia Komerjian had learned to read and write and do basic arithmetic.

In Lebanon where Christians had defied the Ottoman’s dictums, massacres resulted where in one village all the Christian men from 16 to 60 were beheaded. A farmer who had invented a simple farm tool had his hand severed so that others would be discouraged for being anything but ignorant and subservient.

Granddad, angry because of the dictatorial inhumane way the Christian community was treated was ecstatic when his Lebanese friend, Saleem George told him that he had an uncle in Hartford, Connecticut who could sponsor him.

He would soon turn eighteen and had planned to marry his childhood sweetheart, Sophia. Both families decided that he could send for Sophia as soon as he was established.

For granddad it was love at first sight for America where he and Saleem George delighted in the simple fact that being a Christian or any faith, and achieving any success was the American way and encouraged.

Saleem’s uncle found each of the young men a job in a nearby factory, and granddad, eager to return for his beloved Sophia, saved every penny. In two years he returned to marry and bring back his bride.

Dad was born shortly after granddad found the original grocery store in Hartford with the old-fashioned soda fountain. Saleem’s uncle, impressed by his energy, loaned him interest free money to establish the business.

One of Sarah’s favorite stories about granddad’s early store before dad was born was his joy when he saw children passing by his store en-route to their school. They ranged from tiny kindergarteners to eighth grade students. Sarah, he would say, do you have any idea how wonderful this country is to give free education to its children? Your grandma and I were taught with books that had been hidden in secret places away from the eyes of the Ottoman Turks. The earlier store sold penny candy. When each youngster came in with a few coins pressed tightly in their fingers, they got more than a sugar daddy or licorice stick for their pennies. Granddad would never hesitate to tell them how fortunate they were especially at the end of the year when they came in chanting, No more school, no more books, no more teachers’ dirty looks. Wouldn’t you be sad, he would ask them, if you never could go back to school?

Grandma Sophia and granddad always said that they felt their greatest privilege as Americans was being able to send John, Sarah’s dad, to school when he turned five. In that early store, the young couple set up housekeeping in the two rooms at the rear with only a toilet and a sink, a metal tub they pulled out to bathe, a small gas stove, a rickety kitchen table and a large double bed. Grandma Sophia not only helped in the store, but little by little after moving to an upper apartment was able to make their home more elegant with her hand-braided carpets and lace curtains.

When the single greatest disaster happened in Armenia at the outbreak of World War I in 1915, her dad was fifteen. News came out that the Ottoman Turks, considering the Armenians a dangerous foreign element decided to export more than seven hundred fifty thousand to Syria and Palestine. This was not done in a humane way with safe transportation. Six hundred thousand died of starvation or were killed en-route. This inflamed not only her grandparents, but Sarah always heard how it enraged her father, a fifteen year old at the time.

The day he turned sixteen, and manning the soda fountain after school, he secretly was determined that as an American of Armenian descent that this was his war, to defeat the Germans and the Turks. One morning her dad had offered to open the store. Granddad had come down thirty minutes later to find the doors still locked, but a letter on the marble counter of the soda fountain saying that he would contact them as soon as he was accepted into the army.

Sarah realized she was feeling the same fervor her dad had experienced. Japan had attacked her beloved America and Hitler was out to prove by force and power that the Aryan race was superior. She wished that somehow the three years would miraculously pass so she could enlist now.

As she approached the front door of St. Rose’s Student Dorm, she almost collided with Sister Mary Felicatas as she entered.

Sarah quickly avoided the collision, I’m sorry Sister, I only have a few minutes to get ready for duty.

Sister, in her white nurse habit smiled, We are all very upset over Pearl Harbor. I guess you needed to see your family. Sarah nodded, I did, Sister. I just want to say Sarah that you are doing quite well both in the classroom and on the floors, just keep on doing your best. I’m sure even civilian hospitals and student nurses will be called upon to help in some way.

Thank you, Sister, I just want you to know if the war is still on I plan to enlist when I graduate.

Sister Felicatas smiled as she watched Sarah rushing out the back door with several other probationary students to the rear entrance of St. Rose’s Hospital. Students were required to do afternoon and evening patient care.

Later, hearing the radio speech of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt in which he termed the attack, A day that will live in infamy, the president unified the public and swept away any previous support for neutrality.

While Japan had in 1940 aligned itself with the Axis, Germany and Italy, the attack on Pearl Harbor was still a surprise. The next day when Sarah picked up the Hartford Courant, she was appalled by the extent of the damage. Hearing it on the radio did not have the impact of the printed words.

Because the United States had earlier applied both diplomatic and economic pressures to try to resolve the SINO-Japanese conflict, especially an embargo on Japan, they considered this a threat to their nations security.

When Japan retaliated, they did it with such precision and force that had Sarah’s head reeling as she read on.

A total of 360 planes were launched from Japanese carriers. The first divebombers appeared at 7:55 A.M. Sunday morning followed swiftly by 200 more aircraft. Forty-five minutes later another aerial assault. When all was done the facts were heart-chilling. Heavy damage was inflicted on the U. S. battleships. The Arizona, California and West Virginia were sunk. There was heavy damage to the Oklahoma, Maryland, Nevada, Tennessee and Pennsylvania, but worse than damage to ships or buildings was that there were 3,400 casualties and 2,300 were killed.

As Sarah put down the newspaper she was awash with contrasting feelings of sadness and resolve.

Later on that same day, December 8th, Congress officially declared war on Japan with only one dissenting vote.

Sarah and her family, and families all over the U.S. realized that their lives would never be the same.

That night when Sarah returned to the dorm she studied for her anatomy and chemistry exam with renewed determination. Nothing was going to prevent her from achieving her goal to be a registered nurse and to enlist.

September, 1944

The three years that had seemed to take forever had finally come to an end. Keeping very busy caring for post surgical patients was helping Sarah keep from becoming too depressed. In the first week of September, she, along with forty-six graduate nurse classmates had taken the State exam that would enable them to add R.N. (Registered Nurse) to their title.

The two-day exam was held in the Hartford’s Capitol building because of the difficult test questions, Sarah found herself engulfed with feelings of apprehension. She was sure she was going to fail in spite of having studied for hours during the whole summer.

The war both in Europe and the South Pacific was still critical, and Sarah wanted to be a part of the solution by enlisting as an army nurse. Failing the exam that she as well as her roommate Natalie feared could happen, would put all plans on hold.

She was remembering her hours of study from the end of May’s graduation until the test in September. Sarah had spent six days a week, four hours a day pouring over all her text books to prepare for the exam. Now waiting to hear the results that would be mailed to her home, she was engulfed in sadness. She feared all her study had been for naught. Her parents and her grandparents would share in her disappointment.

She and Natalie had the same lunchtime so they planned to meet at the hospital employee cafeteria.

Have you heard anything yet? she asked her friend of three years. The five foot, eight, beautiful blonde stood many inches above Sarah’s slightly less than five-foot petite frame.

When standing side by side, their classmates had dubbed them ‘Mutt and Jeff’ after the cartoon characters. Glancing toward Sarah, Natalie with a dejected voice answered, What’s the point, I’m sure I failed. I can’t believe how horrible that exam was.

Looking at the less than appetizing meal, Sarah answered, That makes two of us. What do you think this stuff on our plate is?

Who knows, Natalie laughed, we’ll call it St. Rose’s surprise. "Right now I could use some of that angel hair pasta at Napoli’s.

If they had more than thirty minutes for lunch, they would have headed to Napoli’s less than a half block down the street. For three years, the students for only a dollar could feast on thin spaghetti or angel hair, drenched in sauce, served with plenty of crusty, Italian bread. It was a welcome break from hospital fare.

If by some miracle she passed her exam, and she had been praying along with her grandmother’s entreating of the Blessed Virgin, she would rush to enlist. Looking toward her friend she said, If I pass, I’m really going to miss you, Natalie.

Sarah was the only one of forty-six students in her class who planned to enlist. Looking over at Natalie she asked, Are you sure you won’t enlist with me?

No, Sarah, I’m not ready to make that commitment, besides I need to pass my exam before I’d even consider doing anything.

Sarah shook her head sadly, I’ll miss you, and I’ll miss everyone, but I can’t wait to be a part of all the people who are doing something to help.

They had both, during their three years in nursing school, blended into each other’s family. Natalie found the Armenian cuisine a blessed relief from hospital fare, and Sarah enjoyed dinner with Natalie’s family, particularly her Lithuanian mother who had a fantastic sense of humor.

As Sarah started to shake ketchup on her plate in an effort to make it more palatable, Sister Mary Elizabeth walked over, You have a phone call in the director’s office, Miss Hakobian.

The ketchup bottle was saved from crashing to the floor by Natalie’s quick action.

Sarah feared something had happened to her family or Sister Mary Elizabeth would never call her to the phone. She followed Sister, her legs so shaky she wondered if she would make the short distance to the director’s office.

When she picked up the phone her father’s voice immediately reassured her. It was his happy voice, The letter from the state is here. I’m sure you passed Sarah, and I want you to stop worrying.

Dad, could you open the letter. I don’t think I can finish this day if I don’t know for sure.

Sarah looked toward Sister Mary Elizabeth who was having a difficult time to keep from smiling. Sister nodded yes.

Please, dad, Sarah pleaded.

O.K., her dad started to tear the envelope open, then silence. Dad, please.

I can’t believe this, Sarah, Medical Surgical, 94; Pediatrics, 96; Pharmacology, 95; Anatomy, 93; Nutrition, 99. There’s more Sarah, but not one grade is below 90.

Dad, Sarah said, her voice radiating her relief and joy, What do you mean, you can’t believe this?

Her father laughed, Sarah for two weeks your mother and I and your grandpa and grandma have heard you wailing and moaning about how you failed. You almost had us believing you.

I know, dad, I really believed it myself.

As she hung up the phone, she looked towards Sister Mary Elizabeth, I passed, Sister, I can’t believe I got such good grades! Oh, Thank God! Sister Mary Elizabeth, an R.N. with a degree in Nursing Education, now smiled broadly as she shook Sarah’s hand.

"Congratulations, Miss Hakobian. I remembered feeling the same way when I