MASSMAN-EMORY

Emory Andrew Massman Jr. is the author of the book, ”Hospital Ships Of World War II”  published in 1999.  The following are excerpts from the book’s preface:

Although at the time I had no idea I would ever write a book on the subject of hospital ships, this book had its beginnings during World War II.  I had gone to sea at an early age.  As the war unfolded, I found myself assigned as a deck officer aboard a liberty ship.  At the same time I was carrying on a long-distance courtship with a lovely young blond registered nurse; hence my interest in things medical.  Putting the ship and the nurse together, we migrated to the hospital ship, the subject at hand.  Medical personnel on these ships have their own special stories to tell.  These gallant men and women were right in the middle of the fighting.  It didn’t take them long to realize that the situation they had gotten themselves involved in was no John Wayne war movie.  This was the real thing, and they had front-row seats!

My first, and only, encounter with a nurse in World War II came about as the result of an act of God; a very heavy South Pacific rainstorm.  I was a third mate aboard the liberty ship SS HENRY S. SANFORD.  My ship had found its way from the west coast of the United States across the Pacific to the beaches of Leyte Island.  The Japanese still held the inner portions of the islands.  We had arrived two months after the initial invasions and were ordered by the beach master to an anchorage a few yards off the shoreline.  The unloading process was proceeding at a snail’s pace as there were no piers or docks available for this humble liberty ship. 

Entertainment ashore consisted of movies in several outdoor theaters, hastily constructed along the beach.  I went to one of these theaters.  After the movie it began to rain, then became a deluge.  I worked my way back through this torrent of rain and mud to the beach where the ship was located.  The lights on the ship offshore were a comforting sight but I was in for bad luck.  The stevedores, because of the weather, had stopped unloading the ship, and I had no way to get aboard.  It appeared that I would be spending the night without shelter.  While pondering this dilemma, I glanced across the road, and saw a light in a tent with a red cross and I headed that way.

When I stepped into the tent I saw a female nurse.  I was shocked!  I had expected to see a male medic.  Here in front of me was a woman – an honest-to-God, American female.  She was the first girl I had seen in six or seven months!  I must have been a sight, standing there with my mouth hanging open.  Finally, the realization came to me that standing before me was a little slice of home in a strange masculine world filled with war.  This is what happens to people deprived of association with the opposite sex for extended periods.  I was now face to face with a dream come true.  Finally, she simply said, “What do you want?”  I managed to speak, replying that I needed a place to stay because I couldn’t get back to my ship.  At first she made some remarks about this being a hospital and not a hotel.  But as the noise from the wind and rain increased, plus a little groveling on my part, she relented and said, “Follow me.”

We went down through the center of the tent on a wooden walkway.  Beds on each side of the walkway were filled with wounded men.  When we reached the far end of the tent, I saw three empty beds.  She said I could sleep in one of the vacant beds but noted in no uncertain terms that her relief came at six in the morning and I had to be gone before that time.  She didn’t want to have to explain my presence.  I was up and out of there at 5:30 a.m.  The rain had ended, and it was a cool, crisp morning.  Stopping at the stevedores’ mess hall, I had a cup of coffee, then headed for the beach to catch the first “duck” going out to my ship.  Fixed in my mind was the fact that these valiant and compassionate nurses, who lived, worked, and suffered in this war zone, not only were saving lives but were making things much better for everyone just by being there.

          /s/ Emory Massman

NOTE:  Emory Andres Massman Jr. died on June 18, 2015, and has been laid to final rest at Florida National Cemetery in Bushnell, Florida, where his memorial marker carries the inscription:  US MERCHANT MARINE  -  WORLD WAR II

Submitted by CDR Roy A. Mosteller, USNR (Ret)