7 June 1952, Saturday
We arrived in St. Anthony, Newfoundland harbor last Sunday after an interesting trip through the breaking ice pack behind an icebreaker. I joined several other officers in the beach reconnaissance party. We bundled up in some of our Arctic clothing, but were still chilled after returning by P boat to the Latimer late in the evening.
On Monday we went ashore again and began setting up. The aid station was situated in an old frame warehouse alongside the pier. As the week went by our supplies came ashore and we acquired the semblance of a small dispensary, lacking only heat, ultimately, and facilities for sterilizing instruments. Sick call has been light ashore, averaging only about 10 visits per 24 hours. I have been on a tiring 12 hour night shift all week, which will now change to 12 hours on the beach, alternating with 24 hours on the boat for rest and sick call.
It took our outfit about 24 hours to unload a tremendous amount of vehicles and moving equipment, and then they began unloading construction materials from a Victory freighter with P, LSU, Mike boats, and DUKWs. The men and officers are working very hard.
St. Anthony is a small village of some 1,400 people, situated on the several fingers of a large bay. It is surrounded by bleak, brown, stony hills, with small evergreens on their northern slopes. Sun sets at 9:30 p.m. (7:00 EST) and rises at 4:00 a.m. (1:30 EST).
15 June 1952, Sunday
This has been a busy week. The SS Wilton Smith was unloaded, and work began repairing the roads in preparation for the next ship, which we now are to await, instead of going onward. Sick call and beach calls have been slightly heavier. The weather has been abominable, with frequent rain and almost constant fog of greater or lesser degree, Saturday being the only beautiful day thus far.
Early in the week I was called aboard the Smith to inspect the inadequate aft galley on the Smith, which is used for the preparation of a mid-shift meal for the men. A report was written thereon. As a result of last week’s medical reports I was summoned to a staff meeting in the Commodore’s stateroom. Captain Allen of our Latimer was annoyed by the whole procedure, but the men may get more shower water as a result. Yesterday Captain Day had me join his inspection tour of the remarkable Donner, an LSD (which can submerge part of its hindquarters to form a sheltered dock for small boats). I was about 14th man in a 15 man party, so heard little of what was said.
Yesterday I drove around over the terrible, muddy, rutted roads on the weekly inspection tour (material). We got to the top of radar hill, which was alive with mosquitoes, but afforded an excellent view of the harbor and the surrounding tired, worn mountains, covered with small stunted evergreens. Much of the ice returned to the harbor after last Monday’s gale.
21 June 1952, Saturday
The weather at N-26 has been very bad all this week, with much fog and rain. The SS Beven arrived Thursday, and after some difficulty with Canadian Customs, we began unloading, employing the usual two 12 hour shifts each day. Mail arrived about the same time, and there were several letters from home. Also there was a notice of election to membership in the American Association of Anatomists, which will cost $5.00 this year, however.
One sailor fell into the icy water yesterday. He was pulled out after about four minutes of immersion, in a semi-conscious state, but recovered rapidly and was placed in a warm shower. The temperature of the water here in the harbor is about 35º.
I have finished reading a very interesting book, The Biography of the Earth, by George Gamow. It is a comparatively complete review of the astronomy of the solar system, formation of the earth and geology and geophysics, with shorter sections on palaeontology and ethnology . One criticism may be that the author is a bit too positive on his theories for a truly scientific outlook. Now I have switched to some light reading, i.e. Dracula.
We expect to finish unloading this freighter in a few days, and then move to another site, probably in Greenland. Colliers is now running a revealing series of articles on our air bases in arctic regions – while we are told such information is of security nature!!
28 June 1952, Saturday
This has been a busy week. The early part of it was fairly routine There was some difficulty with my Cpl. Jones. He is a man from Virginia with "non compis mentis eyes". He claimed affliction with a bad back, which got worse whenever suggestion was made that he return to work. Finally he was booted back on the beach, amid much moaning.
On Thursday seven letters arrived from home. Apparently the legacy from Uncle Will came through, and Grandma arranged for me to have $100.00 apparently, while mother got $400.00. My share was a most unexpected, but pleasant surprise.
Loading back on the ships was completed last night, and we are now back on the ship, however, we have no idea where we shall go next, since they rather blasted our Greenland hopes.
Yesterday I helped Beep Little with a herniorrhaphy, which gave us some trouble from the anesthetic standpoint. We have admitted several cases of bacterial pneumonia in the past two days. Today we madly rushed around and arranged for evacuation of a master-sergeant with a peculiar "parasympathetic epilepsy" syndrome. We placed him aboard the DE (destroyer escort) Brough today, which will carry him to St. Johns, for possible return to the ZI We have also been sweating out these stupid types of reports for the medical service. They are ambiguous and exhaustive in their detail – typical waste bucket fodder.
The weather has been beautiful today, but large icebergs are still floating by.
Updated: July 29, 2002