Sunday, 7 September 1952
The week was not very busy medically. About six men were seen each day, and there were a few reports. In fact it was rather restful. It is so relaxing to get eight hours of sleep per night and not be pushed hard during the daytime. It snowed several times during the week, but it has remained only on the surrounding hills. We have to wash our own clothes, but do not mind. The CO, Phil Cochran, 1st Lt. Bob Hart, 2nd Lts. Bill Harvey, Dick Spademan, and Hughey Woodley are a cordial group. The CO is a bit morose and the subordinates feel it. Morale is rather low, but there is some hope that we shall be out within two weeks.
I make several trips to the Eskimo village to see sick patients with the Mountie, Marin, or the RCAF aid man. They live in poverty and filth, but still seem a happy lot. They have a syllabic language of 48 characters. "Loota" means doctor, and "nakawassie" is thank you, but I have not picked up much more. Their summer quarters are in tents of white cloth. The floors are mostly dirt, covered with fish heads, and with dead seals lying here and there. Seal oil lamps of semi-lunar shape are used for heating and cooking. A low platform is built at one end of the 6 x 10 foot tent, covered with dirty quilted blankets, where several families sleep. They have flat, square faces, with almond eyes and prominent mandibular angles. They are mostly short and pigeon-toed.
Have seen several cases of otitis media, mastoidal abscesses, as well as probable tbc meningitis. There have been 11 deaths among the children in the past 6 weeks.
Plans indicate the possibility of a new car (Olds or Pontiac), camera, radiovis for father and me, and trip to Europe with Army pay.
Sunday, 14 September 1952
This was another typical Army week of uncertainty and conflicting decisions. All week long various officers and "twxs" came from Goose Bay with contradictory and conflicting instructions. Finally General Whitcomb and other high brass flew in today and decided that about 50 men will remain from Co. A to finish the various projects now underway.
The medical end of it was settled last night, when Lt. Anderson came in from Goose Bay, having seen Colonel Kanton, who directed that we remain until the work be completed, and then return to the ZI by plane. In a way it seems rather a waste of man power to spend two medics on 50 men, but perhaps it is necessary because of the isolation here.
There were several more interesting visits to the Eskimo village, where cases of advanced otitis media with extramastoid abscesses were seen, as well as more scrofula. It would be nice to purchase some of the ivory and soapstone figures recently brought from Lake Harbor by a RCMP, but we have not received our pay for August, and finances are at a low ebb of some $12.00 on hand.
The foliage has turned brown, snow flurries are frequent, and ice has begun to form around the rim of the bay. The sun shines but little.
Added to the Eskimo vocabulary are "a-ah" (pain) and "ah chor" (I don’t know) – not a sneeze.
Have been reading Prince of Egypt, an interesting fictional story about Moses. Visits to the aid station have been frequent as compared with early days of the stay here.
Friday, 26 September 1952
Things have been routine for the past few weeks. In addition to the usual reports and occasional aid station visits, I have done a bit of minor surgery, i.e. incision of abscesses, excision of sebaceous cysts, hemorrhoidectomies, and today my first circumcision on my own, which went fairly well.
Last Saturday, most of Company A was ferried by rowboat, tugboat, and barge out to the waiting USS Hersey for the trip back to CONUS. A D/F from Colonel Koston directed us to remain with the 51 men in the detachment remaining to complete the construction projects We may be flown back to the states about mid-October.
Last Monday Lt. William Harvey and I moved into the officers’ section of the RCAF headquarters building, where we have nice single rooms. The crowded mess is the only drawback.
On Tuesday last the Eskimos shot three whales out in the bay. They were all gathered around the beached carcasses of one when Lt. Harvey and I drove the mile down the beach at low tide. (This mile is under water at high tide). It was about 14 feet long, and was estimated at 3000 lbs. They were cutting off the skin and blubber in huge strips. The women and children were jamming raw skin and blubber into their mouths. They regard it as we regard candy. We got a few good pictures of them.
About all I do is eat, sleep, see a nightly movie, and read in the aid station during the day.
Updated: July 29, 2002