4 May 1952, Sunday
Officially, this week was spent in the usual dispensary duty, which takes one to two hours each morning, and the further accumulation and inventory of personal equipment for our trip.
There was some difficulty with my men, who are rather lethargic – playing the old army game of act – busy – but – do – nothing for all it’s worth (which is little). Our arctic equipment arrived, and is really something, with parkas, shoe-pacs, etc. The weather was beautiful all week, which put everyone in somewhat better spirits. Twenty dollars were expended on a new field jacket and a set of khakis.
A note came from the M&SS saying that my academic position in the 8-0-2, #6 class was number 1, which was rather surprising to me, although the moderate amount of studying done by me was evidently responsible, since most of the other men studied none at all.
Yesterday I took the bus into nearby New Brunswick and purchased some moth cakes. It is a fairly nice small New Jersey city, containing Rutgers University, an old appearing, but fairly nice looking (not nearly so large and expensive looking as Yale, however) institution. Then I took the Penna R.R. for New York, staying at the Algonguin Hotel on 44th St. for an exorbitant $6.87. I walked up to Rockefeller Center, went to the observation roof to take some pictures, and then saw a movie and stage show with the Rockettes at the Music Hall. In the evening I saw Gertrude Lawrence in the King and I. She was quite fest in her singing and the plot moved slowly, with little excitement. Today I walked around NY, saw a movie, and returned in the late afternoon. The idea of a post-army European trip has arisen.
10 May 1952, Saturday
This has been a somewhat busier week. There has been the usual dispensary sick call, but we have been concerned with filling out 18 copies of five large typewritten sheets, listing all our supplies, and lack of supplies. The purpose of this labor is not entirely clear. There has also been the usual routine of laundry, haircut, pressing etc. They have stopped our eating at the GI Mess Hall (i.e. Officer). Evidently we give the enlisted men indigestion. So now we eat at one of the Officer’s Open Messes (what a horrible name for an eating establishment), where the food is fairly good at $0.50 per meal.
Last night several of the men took me to the Nine O’Clock Club – a sort of dance-hall and for several miles from the camp. It was packed with service men and civilian women of all shapes and types. The officers with me were mostly married, family men, but that seemed to bother them little – nor did it bother the married women they picked up. Of course these same people complain about their spouses going out with others. People certainly have peculiar standards.
We received our arctic equipment early in the week, and our organizational equipment (helmet, pack, spade, etc.) just a few days ago. Now no one seems to know how we are going to get this material, as well as our own personal clothing, to the port of embarkation and on the ship.
The medical officer for the other task force still has not arrived, so I carry one for him too.
18 May 1952, Sunday routine.
This week began rather busily. We finished packing our equipment for shipment to Hampton Roads. On Thursday the surgeon for Detach. #2 arrived and took over, thus relieving me of this responsibility. He is Captain Charles Burroughs of Trenton, NJ, who seems to be a very nice fellow. He took me home with him that evening for a spaghetti dinner. His wife was nice, but rather dumpy and tired. His children were cute, but very messy at the super table.
Another cold developed on Wednesday. Have been fighting it with rest and ascorbic acid. Doubt the efficacy of the latter.
Dispensary sick call continues. Went over to the hospital Saturday to read up on intestinal parasitic diseases, of which we now have several. Their library contains a number of journals, but the books are not accessible, strangely enough.
Yesterday I entrained for New York again, saw Scaramouche and a fair stage show at the Radio City Music Hall, then took in South Pacific after a dinner at Toffenetti’s. South Pacific had good music, but the plot dragged. These, French, middle-aged planters are actually anything but romantic. Took the local back, arriving at camp about 1:30 a.m. today.
Arising late today, I spent the afternoon reading at the post library, which is very nicely appointed with new decorations, easy chairs, fluorescent lights, etc.
We are starting our last week at Camp Kilmer.
25 May 1952, Sunday routine.
Final preparations were made for the move from Camp Kilmer. On Wednesday evening I rode to Queens, NY, with Captain Bill Dailey and Nick Krich, for dinner at the former’s home. The former’s daughter, Theresa, has a complete congenial bilateral absence of the iris – a most unusual condition. We had a splendid meal, but in rather alcoholic surroundings. After only about four hours sleep for me, and less for the others, we had a very rapid ride back to Camp Kilmer.
On Thursday evening Jack Topal took me to his home in Brooklyn, along with Mike F. and a Lt. Terkowski, MSC. We had a pleasant time, but returned to camp at 1:30 am. Going over we ran into a terrific traffic jam due to an accident on the Pulaski Skyway.
Friday kept us busy checking out. Then in the evening we donned our khakis, and caught the train for Norfolk, VA. Chuck Burroughs and I shared a compartment along with an enlisted man named O’Neil. After a hurried breakfast in Richmond, where our own men did KP in a commercial restaurant, we finally reached humid Norfolk, and went by bus to Hampton Roads, where we were loaded aboard the APA, Latimer, a 12,000+ ton ship of Victory class. We were immediately limited to ship except for official business on the pier, where bedlam reigns, and we spent hours searching for our supplies. The supply problem has certainly been poorly handled. The medical setup is very good on the ship. We are living in triple decker bunks. Called the folks this morning. We expect to sail tomorrow.
31 May, 1952 Saturday
The Latimer sailed from Norfolk last Monday, heading northeast, some 125 miles off the continental coast. The weather was excellent, being only moderately rough on a few occasions. Seasickness did not bother me. Last night, however, a heavy fog rolled in, reducing our speed to 3 knots, from the former 10-14 knots. In the convoy are a destroyer escort, two APAs, two LSDs (landing ship docks), and several LSTs and a tanker. On Thursday a destroyer came alongside, and things were transferred by line between the two ships. We got some camera pictures of it.
I addressed the enlisted men in Fox compartment during several afternoons on the subject of the task force medical setup, and personal hygiene. The morning sick call has continued to run light.
We have passed the Grand Banks, and we are now creeping along somewhere off the east coast of Newfoundland. We continue to kill time by reading, watching the sea (although it has become too cold to indulge in this occupation much), and attending the nightly movies in the wardroom.
There is some friction between regular Army and Navy personnel, but it is not evident in the medical services.
We were paid by the Navy today. I sent $150.00 home to be used to purchase savings bonds or start a savings account (by money order). Ten dollars were also sent for a Father’s Day present and expenses.
Updated: July 29, 2002