H-POW-HUllom

POW Lt H. Ullom Testimony before Congress January 26, 1982

Senator DeCONCINI, Members of Your Staff, Ladies and Gentlemen; my name is Hadeline M. ULLOM, United States Army Nurse Corps Retired. My residence is 2901 East Waverly Street, Tucson, Arizona. I wish to tell you how proud and privileged I feel to be present at this Veterans Benefits Health Act Hearing here in Phoenix. I am even more proud that you would permit my testimony to be made a matter of record in your deliberations.

Senator DeCONCINI, please let me make a point observation here at the outset that I am here representing one segment of our United States Army which has been virtually ignored in any deliberations concerning Veterans. As you might guess, Sir, I speak on behalf of a truly forgotten group of Women - those of us who were captured by enemy forces. In making this observation, I want to add that we Nurses who were Prisoners of War (POWs) never received any special benefits nor were we ever given any special advantage over other Veterans.

I am acutely aware your Hearing was to be limited and confined to issues concerning the Treatment of Veterans here in Arizona. I have no special complaint which could or might pertain to me as a former Nurse and Veteran. I would feel terribly remiss, however, if I were to permit such Hearing to take place and not add my voice and the voice of those Women Nurses with whom I so proudly served. I would hope that something I could add might result in broadening your knowledge along with the knowledge of the Veteran Affairs Committee, which you serve.

Permit me, the Senator DeCONCINI, in my way to relate some facts which are not generally known. In this way I can then lead to what I hope will be helpful to you and to your committee. Of necessity, my Testimony must begin with the outbreak of World War II.

When World War II broke out, I had already been in the Philippines one and a half years. My principle assignment was at Sternberg General Hospital. General MacArthur ordered evacuation of Manila on 23 December 1941 and our troops retreated to Bataan Peninsula. Manila was declared an "Open City" on 24 December, 1941 but it was not until 30 December 1941 that we received orders to vacate Sternberg General Hospital and I was transferred to the Island of Corrregidor. As you can determine, we remained at our duty station at Sternberg until virtually the last minute; even then there was some question of our "safe" evacuation.

On 5 January 1942, the entire Philippine Garrison was ordered on half-rations as a preventive measure to insure our food supplies would last until at least June 1942 when, we were informed, "help would arrive." There were no compensating or off-setting factor such as a reduction in work hours or duty assignments; if anything both factors became longer and harder. I make this fact known as one of the many contributing elements to a long list of successive traumas which were to be our lot before we were liberated and returned to American control. I do not make this, or any other statements, as a personal gripe.

Permit me the honor of a personal boast in that I wish to emphasize that as United States Army Nurses, we were a proud group who were "Regular Army" in every sense of the word. Even prior to the outbreak of World War II, when rumors concerning our critical situation were rampant, I was not aware that any of us were given opportunity to depart this potentially critical area for the comparative safety of "Duty in the United States." As a matter of considered opinion, I doubt is any of us would have taken advantage of such an offer.

Following my arrival on Corregidor, our Nurses Complement numbered approximately twenty and we immediately changed from the traditional three-shift-a-day concept of peace-time Garrison Duty to the even more traditional twelve-hour-shift with seven o'clock being the pivotal hour. That twelve hour shift was short lived. As casualties increased the hours increased proportionately and to the degree that the twelve-hour shift was considered "gravy". In fact, sixteen hours soon became the norm and an eighteen hour shift was not all uncommon. We went to the sixteen hour shift in Mid-March following a decided increase in air activity by the Japanese which resulted in an increased number of casualties. After the Fall of Bataan on 9 April 1942, two notable events took place. First we were happy to receive all the Nurses from Bataan and secondly, the Japanese now added shelling to their increased tempo of bombing Corregidor. That increased tempo brought on more casualties and such luxuries as sleep and rest became dim memories. The addition of the Nurses from Bataan did not alleviate our work hours.

Historically, I must tell you that following the early bombings of Corregidor in December 1941, and in conjunction with established War Plans, the Station Hospital on "The Rock" was moved into Malinta Tunnel. Malinta Tunnel was a remarkable engineering feat thirty feet wide, almost 20 feet high and approximately 1,100 feet long in an east-west direction. From this Main Lateral there were Side Laterals and, counting those laterals which were strictly fuel storage, we had a total of thirty-five of which TWELVE were Hospital Laterals. Much of the equipment and supplies of the Station Hospital were moved to the Malinta Tunnel Laterals. As casualties increased, bunks were added on top of each other until, in almost all Laterals they were four-high. Before the war ended for us on Corregidor, we had bunks and/or mattresses in every conceivable available area.

I feel this necessary to elaborate because as near as I can determine, no one ever gave this group of Nurses the recognition they earned and deserved. For us life became either being awake and working or you were seeking but never quite located a totally restful or sleep situation. As a matter of fact, sleep was more the result of total exhaustion rather than a restful experience. The entrance to the Hospital Laterals was aptly named the North Entrance and it was here we took our breaks, when and if an opportunity afforded itself. In addition to our "normal" duties ("normal" in relation to peace-time service, or course), we were always aware that the appearance of a "White Woman" was a premium sight for combat-weary troops. No, I did not "flaunt" myself, nor am I aware of other Nurses who did. We knew the value of "morale" concerning our troops and we knew what the sight of an in-the-flesh American Female meant to these fighting men. Even when dead tired with our main target being sleep or rest, we would take time to clean up, apply what little make-up material was available and spend a few minutes with these worn Troops. Of course there was compensation in that our own morale was bolstered during those brief moments which gave us the added strength to continue what was fast becoming and endless chore of duty.

We lived a mole-like existence. Our atmosphere was one of dusty pall, ever present, in which we moved, worked, tried to eat, tried to breathe, in an endless nightmare whose beginning was difficult to trace but which seemed forever. Nasty little black flies were the order of the day while bedbugs frolicked and played during the night, contributing yet another negative factor while seeking rest or sleep. We tried to mop at least twice a day which proved to be an exercise in futility; the dust was ever present and refused to acknowledge our best efforts. Efforts to maintain our usual standard of sanitation in the operating rooms faded as we lost the race with the ever present dust. We tried. Lord how we tried. But our prime intention, coupled with equal determination, bowed to the inevitable as we acknowledged a losing race. Aggravating as these grievances were, they were endurable; the feeling of helplessness, of being unable to fight back - was not.

Life became so unreal. Life in Malinta Tunnel so depressed some men they actually lost their lives by refusing to take shelter in its stifling safety. Psychologically, any time spent in the safety offered by a coverring of 358 feet of solid rock, was hazardous. Once troops became acclimated to the safety Malinta Tunnel offered, they found it extremely difficult to return to the dangerous, and most often deadly, life outside. Men most affected were those whose duties necessitated the Outside and became victims of "tunnelitis" which became a joke to those on the Outside but a very serious problem to those of us who had to content with, and treat it as the disease it became. Not all were battle casualties. A goodly number were those who had contacted malaria and/or dysentery and in many instances the numbers were equally divided.

When General "Skinney" Wainwright realized our end was in sight, he told us quite frankly we had sufficient reduced rations to hold out only until the "end of June, at latest" and that the long-awaited-for "help on the way" was only a myth. I must add General Wainright was every inch "An Officer and A Gentleman" highly revered by his troops. Although I was not physically present when President Roosevelt tendered him his Third Star and promotion to Lieutenant General, I do recall how he told one of our Ladies who congratulated him, "It's an empty Honor, Madam, I know why I am being promoted." We cried when we were told of his remark.

I must add that as Japanese increased the intensity of their firepower, life became proportionately more difficult for us. When they decided to throw everything they had at us, it amounted to some 36,000 rounds in one period. Every possible caliber was used, varying from 105mm to their dreaded 240mm shell. Life in this concentration of fire became absolutely miserable. In spite of its rock cover, all of Malinta Hill shivered and shook. Items on shelves in our hospital laterals fell to the floor as walls vibrated with shock. Dust rose in such clouds we had to cover the faces of the patients as well as our own with wet gauze in order to breathe. In my own mind I am convinced this incident alone could be expanded into a book, but I wish to conclude this aspect with the observation that although our fighting Troops certainly performed magnificently under fire, not all the heroes on Corregidor were men. I highly commend both our Army and Navy Nurses who also wore khaki and GI coveralls.

Following the surrender of Corregidor May 6, 1942, even the victorious Japanese realized the necessity of our remaining with our wounded Troops. Under the strictest of orders not to molest or interfere with our duties, we became so painfully aware that for most Japanese, we were the first "white women" they had ever seen. It was an eerie and very unearthly feeling to have them visit us on any pretext. At no time, to my knowledge, did they ever ask us to aid in taking care of their wounded. Only once that I can recall, they had an emergency appendectomy and they asked us to prepare an operating room. We did prepare the operating room but we were not allowed to watch; they chased us out and did their own work. We were allowed to remain with our Troops until July 3, 1942.

The Japanese announced reviells early on the morning of July 3 and, after many hasty and tearful good-byes with the Troops on whom we had vested the best treatment and care we were capable of giving, we were transported from Corregidor to the Mainland of Luzon. Those farewells were so sad because we knew, deep down, we would never see some of these men again. The trauma of saying Good Bye, especially following the trauma of sustained bombing and shelling, had a long-lasting effect on a goodly number of us. Not only were we being separated from the men but also from our Officers and Doctors with whom we worked so hard.

Before departing Corregidor, it might be well to make known yet another side of us by adding a few lines concerning incident which did not set well with most of the Nurses.

On the night of the "Emperor's Birthday," April 29 1942, twenty-two Nurses were alerted to depart Corregidor by seaplane. There was no general announcement and only those alerted to depart were told to report at a given time. This was secretive to the degree where it created many unfavorable comments as to how, why and who were selected --- particularly without making known such departure plans. During such moments there is so much inward turmoil and we were torn inside by a tremendous emotional impact. Why them? Why not me? Why anybody? On one hand you are absolutely by your dedication and devotion to the patients while on the other, you wonder just how long you might withstand the trauma of continuing to live under this now impossible situation of constant heavy bombing and shelling. The trauma had to resolve itself in the stark realization that although you, personally, was not selected for the departure list, at least someone you knew, did. In any event there was little consolation. The unfortunate end to that story was that of the two seaplanes which managed to escape from Corregidor, one hit a submerged rock or log in Lake Lanao and only half the twenty-two girls made it out; the remainder were later re-captured.

On or about May 3rd, the U.S. Submarine SPEARFISH literally sneaked past the Japanese to Corregidor. Twenty-five individuals including eleven Army and one Navy Nurse, were taken on board and removed from Corrigidor. Again, there was no announcement ahead of time; indeed, there was no announcement concerning the arrival of the SPEARFISH. We were never informed of the criteria for selection of those fortunate to be leaving. Admittedly, jealousy may have been one of the governing emotions involved. Taking into consideration the period of time from Mid-March when bombing increased in tempo and the followed by the ceaseless shelling, the wonder was that moral held up as well as it had. Perhaps, and I reiterate, perhaps our morale might have improved had we known not only WHO had been selected to depart, by also WHY they were selected. At this present point in life this could easily be translated into jealousy but I wish you would keep in mind the circumstances of the time frame when these incidents took place.

For us, as Combat Nurses - and who can contest our role as "Soldiers" in any sense of the word - we believed our moral held up because of the stark reality we had no place to go , no place except our Malinta Tunnel, to hide. We were part and parcel of our Combat Personnel, Commissioned and Non-Commissioned, whom we regarded as thoroughly professional soldiers. Were we not "Professional" Nurses in its strictest application? We were in the Philippines because we elected to be there. We were "Volunteers" with a fierce pride, not only in our Nurse Corps but also in our Country. Today we console ourselves in the knowledge that our actions in combat upset the Japanese timetable and delayed their march south to Australia. Militarily, who can contest that our stand was worth what we did accomplish against the Japanese? We paid heavily in blood as casualties in combat. As heavily as we did pay, however, it was nothing compared to what was in store for us as Nurses but more especially for our troops after we became prisoners of war.

To pick up the thread of my story, and following our arrival on Luzon on July 3 1942, we were loaded into four trucks and transported to Santa Catalina Girl's Dormitory where we remained for six weeks prior to being again transported to the Santo Tomas Interment Camp. Santo Toma was a very old and very prominent University in Manila and, by any standard, quite large. Santo Tomas was to be our home for the next approximate 1000 days, until we were liberated on Febuary 3 1945.

Whatever the hardships of combat, whatever the inconveiences, whatever the drawbacks, they became minuscule compared to what our lives would be as prisoners of war. In retrospect, I can now examine the total of what happened without rancor, jealousy, pain or hurt. And again, I wish to insert in the Record observations which are quite valid and, most importantly, not only to us, but to any of the generations who may follow -- God Forbid!

Today, I thank the Lord above for the wisdom he gave our four Senior Nurses, Maude DAVIDSON, Josephine NESBITT, Ann MEALER, and Edith SHACKLETTE, four of the finest individuals God ever breathed life into. On Corregidor we had an On Board count of some 106 Nurses which included one Navy Nurse, one Physical Therapist, and one Dietitian. At Santo Tomas, we had 68 Nurses, one Physical Therapist and one Dietitian and thirteen Navy Nurses. Our Four Senior Nurses immediately organized us into the proud Corps of Nurses we were and, from Day One until we were liberated, we functioned as an organized unit. Not all was peaches and cream, however.

Exercising their rights of conquest, the Japanese took advantage of their superiority in taking over an Open City. They rounded up anyone they regarded as a threat and Santo Tomas was the logical place for confinement. It became apparent the prominent and important "Civilians" of the community took over the responsibility of leadership in Santo Tomas. In civilian life, many of the Internees were very high paid individuals, accustomed to all sorts of luxuries, including domestic services. Some apparently felt they could impose and extract the same domestic duties on us by having us wait, hand and foot, on them. In fact, I can recall doing "latrine duty" for approximately one week before our Senior Nurses asserted themselves by bringing us back into a military concept and into what was our real and true purpose - that of being Nurses. Although this rankled and disturbed some of these individuals, it was not too long before they realized we were to be invaluable in our role as Nurses. In fact, the longer we were interned, the more important we became as they became truly sick and needed out attention.

We were organized into standard shifts with rotation of duty and hours. We took care of all patient within Santo Tomas and, in addition, furnished Nurses for two outside facilities deemed necessary by our Senior Nurses. The equipment with which we worked in our hospital were far from new when first we acquired them and their condition steadily worsened with wear. Our own knowledge concerning repair of such mechanical items as sterilizes was such that once they wore out there was no replacement. When Japanese ordered Los Banos as an interment camp, the U.S.Navy Nurses volunteered to take over duties there and which brought our ARMY Nurse count to sixty-eight.

Before I depart one thought, I want to add that many of those highly paid civilians gave every impression they were a "better class" that most and this behavior pattern was carried into our hospital facility. Because they thought they were too good to perform menial tasks, some feigned sickness to be admitted to our hospital. As soon as their "goldbrick" attitude was determined, they were quite unceremoniously escorted out. For reasons we can never understanding, why civilians have an "attitude" towards the Uniformed Set, and the one here was one of superiority.

At an early period at Santo Tomas, our Doctors and nurses always insisted on Medical supplies. Very reluctantly at first, the Japanese permitted the local Red Cross to give us medicines, to which their own very, very skimpy issue was added. As time passed the Red Cross gave us less and less until the supply was virtually cut off. At one point after medicines were very low and only after we were confronted with "scares" of diphtheria, cholera and the plague, did the Japanese issue some anti-toxins which we were very reluctant to use. We could not read the labels nor could we understand directions of dosages. Even more frightening was the possibility they could easily give us deadly poisons rather than beneficial medicines.

Our problems were myriad, The Japanese tried to impress us with a continuing harangue of how benevolent their Emperor was to us. We were informed repeatedly how any infraction of their rules could result in dire punishments, including death. They imposed their will on us by having us salute and bow to even their lowliest of privates in their military. They conducted unannounced searches and seizures at unannounced hours through out the day and night. They never told us what they hoped to find but their raids went on ceaselessly. Stories were rampant concerning their conquests following victory in battle and we lived in constant fear of rape. They did not molest us during the course of our duty performance. In their own way, they did interfere with our application of dosages of medicines and patient care by trying to impress us with their superiority in medical procedures. After being witness to some of their machinations as we noted their ignorance in medial application, we could hardly contain ourselves; we had never seen anyone as ignorant.

Food was a continuing problem. Early during confinement, we were permitted to make purchases for certain vendors. Of course, our problems were multiplied in that we had no pay; not from our United States Army and certainly not from the Japanese Army. Luckily for us, some civilians in camp had influential and affluent friends still in business in Manila and elsewhere. One such friend was kind enough to advance us "loans" to ease some of our problems. Unfortunately for us, however, the Japanese managed to "dry up " the Sources one by one and we had to live on what they issued to us. It is safe to say that at no time did we ever exceed 1,500 calories in food intake and in more instances than not , the food issue was at least 500 calories beneath that level. Many of us showed signs of beri-beri, scurvy, and malaria, not to mention basiliary dysentery and even amoebic dysentery were contacted while in combat status.

The big problem for us was dental in nature. Without the types of food to which we had become accustomed, it was not long before we noted our teeth reflected the lack of vitamins and food supplements we enjoyed in a peace-time garrison. Without exception, as far as I can recall, each one of us required dental work and treatment. I am sad to say all our dental problems today had inception in a prison camp. I am sad in retrospect that it took the Veterans Administration some thirty-five years after our liberation to admit our dental problems stemmed from dietary deficiencies. women have an even greater need for food with a high iron content. The lack of proper food had an even greater impact in other areas. In addition to being lethargic and loggy, the lack of vitamins curtailed the energy normally required by an active Nurse. We found usually normal routine sometimes difficult to perform. Any exertion we did in the past was decidedly out of the question. Any types of wounds or sores were difficult to heal and we learned the hard way that the so called "Guam" (tropical ulcers took months and months to close and heal.

The Japanese were totally insensitive to the sanitary needs of our Nurses. It was probable (although not evident) this was one area into which the Japanese Male did not trespass. Because we lacked toothpaste or toothpowder we used powdered charcoal to cleanse our teeth. We were issued a small bar of soap weekly early in our interment but after a time the Japanese made no effort to continue the issue. We had to resort to ingenuity and, in the place of soap, we had to develop a crude product of coconut oil with other items instead. Washing clothes with soap fast became a dim memory. Can you imagine being issued SIX SHEETS of toilet paper per week? You can rest assured those who had toilet paper hoarded - no, guarded it - with their life. For our own personal hygiene and sanitation, the Japanese had no issue in kind; they finally issued a very poor sort of blanket and, in their own way, inferred it would have to make do. Following this issue, you can only imagine our embarrassment and even shame that, after useage, we had to publicly wash and re-wash that very, very personal item. I mentioned earlier that the lack of proper sustenance had another far reaching effect on us. After approximately nine months, all of us stopped menstruating. In so doing, at least one source of embarrassment was alleviated for us.

To my knowledge, none of our Nurses ever wrote in detail what it was like to be a prisoner of war, along with our American Troops. There were articles in one magazine or another but no one has ever treated the subject with the detail it deserves. There is no doubt in my mind that for the sixty-eight of us who were interned in Santo Tomas, there are sixty-eight stories. Although the Veterans Administration conducted a Study of Prisoners of War in 19890, only the briefest of a mention was made of the Nurses who suffered the interminably long period of internment. No concerted effort was ever made by the Veterans Administration to take a detailed look or study about us. Sixty-eight Army Nurses? Compared to some thirty million veterans on current rolls? Hardly worth looking into, I would venture.

In trying to summarize my observations, I find there are too many details which need telling. I would be terribly remiss, however, if I did not avail myself of the opportunity to become a matter of record on behalf of my Nurse-Prisoner-of -War companions. I would be terribly remiss if I did not tell you how trauma was an everyday part of our lives. I must, out of conscience, tell whomever reads this Testimony that a group of dedicated and devoted members of the United States Army Nurse Corps (I do not wish to slight our Sisters in the U.S. Navy Nurse Crops, but I confine myself to those with whom I was intimately acquainted) suffered indignities of the rankest kind. I must attempt to make people, our United States Citizens, understand that the stories they heard about the Japanese atrocities were true in every respect.

I must emphasize how we re-act under various types of situations and stress. To do so , I must remind you we lived in a typical garrison-type duty in peace-time Philippines. The suddenness of the advent of war and all it implied was the first of many emotional shocks. "Regular" duty hours and duty assignments fast faded into a dim memory and was \recalled from time to time as a "dream" of long ago. War brought along wit it, overtime. And then, more overtime on overtime until we found even eighteen hours could be performed and the body still respond to the next call to duty. The importance of our patient was our first and only concern as time passed and the many changes which are part of war demand as many changes in our lifestyles. We went from a comparative peace-time garrison ration well in excess of 3,000 calories to a war-time ration of less than 1,500 calories. It was not long before our meals were reduced to two-meals-a-day. There is a decided trauma of being exposed to shot and shell and bombings, never knowing if, thought some fluke, a stray sell or bomb has your name on it. There was trauma in the unholy number of hours we worked in the Malinta Tunnel Hospital laterals. There was trauma (and fright) connected to everything we did. Even the departure of some of our Nurses to freedom was a trauma to us.

Our first face-to-face meeting with one of our Mighty Conquerors was a trauma by itself. Intelligence concerning the Death March on Bataan had reached us and we knew we could be subjected to the same treatment. After all, we killed thousand upon thousands of Japanese in combat and war knew they were not likely to be forgiving n nature. This was traumatic. As prisoners of war, our rations were cut to the absolute barest which would sustain life. Our weight losses were phenomenal, and that is a decided understatement, to say the least. IN Santo Tomas, the attempts to degrade us- not so much by the Japanese -- as much as by our own people (the civilians) who expected we would perform lackey type work for them; that was trauma. The ever-present threats by Japanese and their apparent total disregard for human life; that was trauma. the well known and accepted fact they were unusually cruel to their own; how about treatment of us? That was traumatic. We knew of their cruel approach to life in general as evidenced by their firing squads; that was traumatic. At best, the Japanese soldier is an erratic whose behavioral pattern absolutely cannot be anticipated, by our standards. It was extremely difficult for us to live under a never-ending fear that this Japanese, even on a whim, held our lives in his hand and with the same whim, could no doubt justify either raping us or taking our lives. That is trauma.

I am proud you afforded me this opportunity to make known feelings I have harbored since my release from Santo Toms on February 3 1945. I am proud to be able to speak on behalf of one group of United States Army Nurses whose total and overall deeds and services may one day yet be recognized. I an proud that I not only conducted myself in an exemplary manner but that I can say so categorically about all of those who served with me during an especially trying period in our lives. I am not being egotistical nor an I self-centered. If you take the time to examine the Records, not one of our Nurses ever had to resign her Commission because she failed in her duty to her uniform, to her work friend, to her Country, or to her God.

Senator DeCONCINI and Your Staff, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for this opportunity to get something concerning our Nurses into the Record. I know you might have wanted to hear whether or not I had any complaints concerning my personal treatment at the Veterans Administration Medical Facility in Tuscon. I must disappoint you in that respect. I am treated with every courtesy and consideration by every member of the entire Staff. I don't know if they treated me kindly because I am the only former Nurse Prisoner of War in this area. When I was separated from the United States Army, I did not request, nor was I granted a disability discharge. Not until later did I apply to the Veterans Administration for compensation and I was granted 30% disability for arthritis I contracted during my stay in prison camp. I have a great reluctance now to apply for further disability because I am acutely aware that such application results only in a hassle. I am active in the local Ex-Prisoner of War Chapter and the stories I hear concerning applications for further disability have long ago discouraged me. Further, I know dozens of my former Nurse Companions who have made application and have met with nothing but opposition.

If I have a gripe to air, it would be that not only I, but many of my former Nurse-Prisoners-of-War went through the throes of a living hell above and beyond what is normally required of Nurses. I cannot fathom what it is the Veterans Administration say on one hand and then do, on another. It is inconceivable to me that the Veterans Administration would expend thousands of dollars on a "Former Prisoner of War Study" which states in no uncertain terms that what we, as prisoners of war, went through , is unequaled in the annals of American History. Sheridan's observation that "WAR IS HELL" was a mild descriptive compared to what we faced in combat as well as prison camps and still be denied if we apply for what we deem to be just compensation.

I am certain that you and the other members of the Veterans Affairs Committee are sick and tired of hearing about people who insist they do not wish a "Handout" yet continue to harangue the Congress for help. I know of no other group in our history who are more entitled to total compensation yet fail to receive their just dues. I cannot rationalize how some of our Ex-POW's can go to one area and receive just compensation, yet people who survived the total mess go to another area and are denied. The adjudication System needs uniformity. Why shouldn't the same standards be applied uniformly I know of no one who had a bed of roses in a Japanese prison camp. I cannot understand why those who survived the Bataan Death March and subsequent imprisonment under the Japanese, have to go through life feeling rejected by the very government they served.

I can only speak with authority concerning my Nursing Career in a Japanese Prison Camp. I wonder if I can state to you, Senator DeCONCINI, that of our original Sixty-Eight Army Nurses, Twenty-Six have died since our release. I do not, and I repeat, I DO NOT BELIEVE ALL OF THEIR DEATHS WERE ATTRIBUTABLE TO OLD AGE, although some Veterans Administration Individuals would have us believe so. I am convinced their death was premature and directly related to their stay in a Japanese Prison Camp.

Again, Senator, DeCONCINI, I want to thank you and your staff for giving me this opportunity. I am willing to submit to any questions you may have.