Jungle Doctor: With The Mayo Clinic In The Pacific War

By Paul Laughlin and Leo Sheedy

The generation of Americans that answered the call of duty during World War II is rapidly passing into history. Before long there will be no new, firsthand accounts of the war and the daily experiences of those who helped secure victory.

Dr. Sheedy was kind and capable, garnering the respect and friendship of countless people he met during the war. As a result, his letters include stories of his many encounters ranging from New Guinea native tribesmen to famous airmen such as Charles Lindbergh and Medal of Honor recipient, Maj. Richard Bong, as well as entertainers including Jack Benny and Carole Landis.

This is a personal history, reflecting the day-to-day challenges, successes and frustrations experienced by those attempting to deliver highly professional services under primitive conditions.

Jungle Doctor is in essence a sort of "time machine", going back to a time when the outcome of the war was still at issue, and providing insight into the emotions experienced by those involved including an ever-present heartfelt longing for home and loved ones contrasted with a keen sense of duty and desire to help many other brave young men make it back home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9798350945447

Paul Laughlin

Leo P. Sheedy, MD was born and raised in Pittsburgh, PA. Completing his residency in Radiology at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN, he returned to Pittsburgh where he began his practice and married Virginia Page. In the Summer of 1943, Dr. Sheedy joined the war effort as a member of the Mayo Clinic's 233rd Station Hospital, and with 4 children under the age of 5, was deployed to New Guinea where he helped to deliver world class, Mayo Clinic care to Allied service members despite the most primitive of conditions. Following the war, Dr. Sheedy played a key role in developing a distribution strategy for the Polio vaccine while helping to raise the family that he so dearly missed during his service overseas.

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Copyright © 2024 Paul Laughlin

Jungle Doctor

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Print ISBN: 979-8-3509-454-3

eBook ISBN: 979-8-35094-544-7

Printed in the United States of America

For Patrick: Pursue your dreams and

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Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

I. TRAINING

CARLISLE, PA

II. STARK GENERAL HOSPITAL

CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

III. ON THE MOVE

IV. AUSTRALIA

V. NEW GUINEA

VI. REDEPLOYMENT

In Port

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Leo Patrick Sheedy, M.D. was my grandfather. I have vivid memories of him, though they are all limited by the viewpoint of the five-year-old boy that I was. An accomplished magician, he somehow always pulled a stick of juicy fruit gum from my ears. He also seemed to have an endless supply of magical nerf balls that materialized out of thin air. I fondly recall sitting with him at my grandmother’s green kitchen table as he ate a single soft boiled egg and magically passed a second egg through the center of the table. He was a kind man and I recall being well aware how much he enjoyed spending time with me. He made me feel as though I was the most special little boy in the whole world.

Now that I am grown and have raised a little boy of my own who has himself chosen to serve his country, I understand a bit of how he felt. But with age, I have come to believe that the time he spent with me was in a way an opportunity to make up for lost moments with his own children, time lost to the War in the Pacific.

In 2003, my grandmother, Virginia Sheedy Gammy to our whole family, who herself had lived a remarkable life, remaining independent into her 90’s began to fail. Realizing with sadness that her time was likely getting small, I traveled to Pittsburgh to see her just before the Christmas Holiday. The afternoon after arriving, I was helping my mother arrange some of Gammy’s things when I came upon a tattered old box from which protruded an even older, more tattered envelope. A quick glance revealed a postmark from 1944.

Of course I had been aware that my Grandpa had served in the United States Army during World War II, and knew that he had been stationed in New Guinea. The details of his service however were limited to the few stories that my mother could tell me about how he would send photos and jewelry that he made from exotic coins and wreckage from downed Japanese aircraft. A little girl herself at the time, she recalls looking at the globe in their home in wonder thinking about her dad all the way on the other side of the world.

I have always been captivated by history, especially United States military history. My curiosity led me to pull the box out from the corner of Gammy’s closet. Inside, neatly filed in the order they had been received all those years ago were all the letters written by my Grandfather to my Grandmother during the war. He wrote virtually every day. To me it was nothing short of a treasure.

When I spoke with Gammy later that day I asked her about the letters. She seemed surprised that anyone would be so interested in them but gave me her blessing to read them. They were a treasure indeed. They provided a perspective on the war that I had never had before, notwithstanding the many books I had read. They also provided perspective on a man I had known unfortunately for but a short time while I was too young to understand much more than the wonders of magic and the simple happiness of time spent with a doting Grandpa. The letters are timeless and vivid and tell a story of a young man who was my own grandfather at just about the age I was when reading them.

The letters tell the story of one remarkable man among millions of remarkable men and women, and of his experience in the greatest conflict the world has seen. A physician trained in radiology at the Mayo clinic, L.P. Sheedy joined the Army and became a part of the Mayo Clinic Team that was being formed for service overseas. The letters trace his journey from training at the War College in Carlisle, PA, to Stark General Hospital in Charleston, South Carolina and eventually across the World to the South Pacific where, along with the others in the 233rd Station Hospital, they built a hospital from ground up while hostilities still continued on the Island of New Guinea.

I. TRAINING

CARLISLE, PA

June 23, 1943

31st Officers Training Battalion

Carlisle, Pennsylvania

I have never been worked so hard in all my life as these past two days. There is not a single moment all day long to sit down and rest, and it is frightfully hot. I am writing this in our barracks and the thermometer at half past seven reads 93 degrees. The schedule for yesterday, today, and in fact the next six weeks is the same: up at 5:30 am, breakfast at 6:00 am, close order drill from 6:30 am until 7:30 am. March to class at 8:00 and four hour long classes until noon. Lunch from 12:00 until 12:30, then march back to classes at 1:00 and hourly classes until 5:00 pm. Dinner from 5:30 to 6:00 pm. More close order drill from 6:30 until 7:30 and then class again between 8:00 and 9:00 pm. We then have homework from 9:30 until 11:00 which is lights out in the barracks. The food is wonderful; the mess hall is insufferably hot.

The parades to drill and to class are something to see. There are about 600 officers in the parade, accompanied by a great band. They play the Beer Barrel Polka, The Old Gray Mare, You’re In The Army Now, This Is The Army, Mr. Jones, and other songs while we march. We are really getting pretty good at marching already. We are drilled by old army sergeants, who are both tough and good. For purposes of drilling us officers, they are very polite but at the same time they are quite firm.

The school work thus far has not been difficult, but rather has been quite tedious for it consists of concentrated lectures and quizzes on the organization of the entire Army from the Commander-In-Chief on down; through Armies, Divisions, Regiments, Battalions, Platoons, etc. Later we will swing into the organization of the Medical Corps. The subjects of logistics and map reading are actually quite difficult.

Enough of the routine for a while. I have met a number of friends here – fellows I never even expected to see again! Fellows I knew in College, Medical School, Rochester and in practice. The guys are full of rumors concerning our unit, and some are pleased while others are displeased. It seems that Chuck Mayo has terrific ants in his pants about getting overseas, and in an effort to facilitate this he has requested the Surgeon General to divide us into two station hospitals instead of one general hospital. Others have suggested that Chuck did not make this request but that the Surgeon General has said that there is too much talent in the unit and that he would prefer that we divide voluntarily rather than it being forced upon us. Of course these are all just latrineograms. Nobody really knows. It is clear, however, that a station hospital is much more likely to go overseas soon. Everyone here is most anxious to go overseas, at least that is what everyone says.

25 June 1943

This grind, and I mean grind does not slow down for a minute. Yesterday evening the entire post, over 2000 strong, paraded at evening retreat, and was reviewed by General Davis, our commanding officer, and General Kirk, the Surgeon General. It was a very impressive ceremony, as much of it as I could see with head straight and eyes front. My face and the faces of everybody here is the color of a boiled lobster as the weather has been oppressively hot and there is no shelter here.

We had our first examination yesterday (in Logistics) and you will be pleased to hear that I made 100%. Tomorrow we have an exam in military courtesies, of which there are more than I ever would have imagined!

There is a new rule that we must not be more than four hours from the post without a special full day’s pass which is not granted to the men taking this course. Accordingly, it doesn’t look as though I’ll be able to get back home at all before the class is over. There is some conjecture about the 5th of July being a holiday since July 4th falls on a Sunday. The old soldiers around here just laugh at this notion, saying that the army has no holidays. I suppose that we can’t even count on that weekend.

26 June 1943

This afternoon, we fought the famous battle of Rock Quarry. Our class sat in a large grandstand for study purposes. It is an exact simulation of battle with opposing forces fully armed with live machine guns and mortars, bullets flying all over the place (out of range we hoped!). The scene directly in front of the grandstand was The Battalion Aid Station which is the first stop in the medical echelon, located roughly two hundred yards behind the front line and made up of two doctors and twelve litter bearers.

Our schedule is so fully packed that we have no time between classes all day long and only thirty minutes for lunch. Being late for a formation is almost a court-martial offense. It is the most serious offense in the category here, so I want to avoid it if possible!

We are all looking forward anxiously for Sunday so that we can rest all day. I really was never so tired in all my life as I am every single night here. Then we need to study at least three hours every night. Ten Forty-Five is the latest I’ve been up any night, and I haven’t had as much as a glass of beer since I left home. We just do not have time nor the opportunity. In fact I have not even been to town as yet, nor have I been to the Officers’ Club which I understand is very beautiful and well appointed. There is a delightful looking movie theatre on the post but, of course, I have not been in it as yet. The admission is ten cents and the pictures are the very latest. Cigarettes are ten cents a pack, thick ham sandwiches, etc. at the PX – just five cents. I bought a three dollar book of tickets when I arrived and it is still half-full.

Sunday Afternoon

Today is something of a low day; the previous days have all been chock full of activities, but today is slow. In addition to being lonely for you and the kids, I’m not feeling so hot from the shots. I had typhoid and smallpox on Friday, and tetanus yesterday.

Enough about that, however, as last night I went to a movie, the Ox Bow Incident. Tomorrow, we go on our first road march and it is to be under simulated battle conditions. The situation was explained to us yesterday. We are to be attacked at intervals by enemy planes with strafing and bombing. There is a group of planes and pilots here for the purpose: they drop little bags of flour at you, and if you get any flour on your uniform, you’re a goner. At some other time of the march we are to be attacked by a couple of tanks, and it will be up to us to find our own cover. Then we will be gassed. We’ve had daily drills in getting our gas masks on and off so I don’t anticipate any trouble with that. In many ways this all seems like the old game of cops and robbers and boy scouts, but they take if very seriously here, and I guess when we do get into action we will appreciate having had the training.

30 June 1943

I truly fell like a mass of blood, sweat and tears. All fooling aside, we are all tired out. Yesterday was the road march of ten miles carrying full packs. Now the ten miles doesn’t sound like much, really just a bit more than 36 holes of golf, but we march pretty fast, 2 ½ miles per hour, and those packs are heavy. It was very hot, too. However, I am glad to report that I finished in excellent shape, no blisters on the feet and no other troubles. The reaction set in today and most of us are stiff and tired. It’s good, toughening training, though.

18 July 1943

I have slipped woefully on my writing, but we have been exceptionally busy, and at night I have just fallen into bed. In fact the other evening we were out on a night exercise. But, tomorrow starts the big and final week. We have exams all week, ten of them. Then, four days of next week are devoted only to physical business, marches, tent pitching, foxhole digging and the like. I’m pretty well prepared for the exams but will have to do a good bit of studying.

Many of us requested a five day leave, but were granted only three days with the strong advice not to take even the three days. Col. Reddig, our C.O. wrote us all that there is an indication that we may move this summer and he wanted all of us to have some accrued leave so that we could go home for a visit before leaving. He said that if we took leave now he might not be able to grant leave later. However the advice from the old heads here at school is to take leave whenever you can, for they say that even if there is no accrued leave before going overseas, it is almost a universal practice to grant leave anyway. In any event I’m so crazy to get home to see you and the kids that I’m taking mine. I’ll get three days leave and two days traveling time – here’s how it works: Thursday, which is graduation day, is a day of duty, and we can leave immediately after graduation which is at 9:00 in the morning. Therefore, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday are days of leave. You must leave on the last on the last day of leave which is Sunday, but they have granted two days traveling time, and it only takes 24 hours to get to our new post in Charleston. Consequently as I figure it, I will have to leave Pittsburgh Monday night. That will give us plenty of time for a nice visit.

23 July 1943

We finished our last examination this afternoon, and everybody is on the loose. We have had a surfeit of exams this week, nine in all, culminating in three today. You know, I’m getting too old for this studying every night. I swore years ago that I would never be caught taking another examination, but here I am and having very little to say about it. It’s alright to say that you don’t give a darn about them, but there’s a little matter of pride that just doesn’t let you take your duties lightly.

You may be pleased to know that I haven’t felt better physically for at least two years than I do now. When you and Pat were here I wasn’t feeling so good and I didn’t know what was wrong. I am convinced now, though, that it was the effects of all the shots I was getting. For the last week or ten days I have felt as though I could lick my weight in wildcats – I have gained five pounds in the past week.

The next few days will be a sort of anti-climax. No exams so we probably will not be too worried about the lectures. Monday is the big march …fifteen miles with full packs (my full pack weighs 45 pounds). My dogs are in wonderful shape. I have never appreciated the great gift of serviceable feet so much before in all my life.

There is no fresh news from Charleston. We don’t know what might happen to us, but most anything would be better than this constant class work and studying. I think that might be part of the Army’s tactical plans, to surfeit you with a certain kind of duty to the point that even a foxhole in Sicily would look good.

II. STARK GENERAL HOSPITAL

CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

(July 9, 1943 Allies Launch amphibious invasion of Sicily;)

(July 25, 1943 Mussolini removed from office.)

(August 22, 1943 Australian landing at Finschhafen, New Guinea)

6 August 43

I’m a little late in starting my correspondence but things here have been sort of jammed up. I had a most uneventful trip down. Arrived in Washington at 5:00 PM and went downtown. I always considered myself something of a Washingtonian, but I might just have been in Prague for all I knew of the town; it has changed so completely that I could not even recognize the common landmarks! Had dinner at the Occidental where they had no meat and no butter, but plenty of their old rum buns of which I made a meal.

My train left Washington at 7:30, a wonderful train, but packed and jammed to the hilt. I had a lower berth, but there were actually soldiers sleeping in the aisles and all the aisles were filled. We arrived in Charleston at 5:20 AM and there was a car to meet me and took me out to the post. The post here is entirely different than Carlisle. As you know, we have been divided into two station hospitals, but we occupy joint quarters in a secluded part of the post and operate as an independent unit; there is no authority whatsoever from Stark. Each of our units has 30 officer doctors, 250 enlisted men, 100 nurses, and 20 WAC’s. We all live in adjoining barracks and it is sometimes somewhat embarrassing for there is a great spirit of camaraderie. We all, officers, men, nurses and WAC’s eat in our own mess hall, served by our own staff, and the food is even better, if possible, than at Carlisle. We each have an expert dietitian from St. Mary’s and they really take care of the inner man.

The barracks are similar to Carlisle, except that they are broken up into single cubicles or rooms without a door however. The latrine is outside, about 50 yards away. The pressure of Carlisle is not here. We do pretty much as we like, for all the hard work of training the men and nurses has been done. The reason I’m late with this letter is that last night about 7:00 our hospital started on a night march; we hiked twenty miles, the entire compliment, bivouacked at 2:00 AM and returned to camp today. We dug our latrines, had our meals and everything on the march. You would be amazed to see how the nurses take it all in stride. I believe they can walk the feet off the men. Everybody seems to be quite physically fit.

The city of Charleston itself is the dirtiest, smelliest town I have ever seen. I went downtown Wednesday night and I shall never return except under duress. The city normally has a population of 60,000, but it is now close to 300,000 and they just do not have the facilities to take care of the sanitary problems. The streets are littered at all hours with garbage even in the heart of the town, and there are a million flies and rats running around. We are not forbidden, but are strongly advised against eating anyplace in the city. The ones who have their wives and families with them are having a most difficult time. The majority of them are living in private homes in a town about 25 miles from the post where they have one or two rooms without private bath and none of them have a kitchen. Consequently they have the most difficult problem of eating out all the time. One of my friends, Simonton, told me that he has a pretty good lead on a summer cottage for the 1st of September, and he is hoping that they get it. The weather is frightfully hot and humid, (102 degrees this afternoon) but I am weathering it quite well. I can stand heat, I believe, better than cold.

Charleston is a Port of Embarkation, and so I went over there this afternoon with a group to get a look. I wish I could tell you all about it but news of such things is really restricted. But suffice it to say that it is the most amazing sight I ever saw, and if materiel will win the war, we have it won. Incidentally, I bought a little pin over there for either you or Jinny Lee, whoever wants it, and will send it under separate cover. Tell Pat that they didn’t have any small Johnny Jeep hats, but as soon as they get them in, I’ll send him one.

The important news is that it looks very much as though we are going over very soon. We have all been issued our own permanent equipment including gas masks, tents, mess kits, pistol belts, and helmets and have been told that we have the highest priority number. Apparently the 237th is slightly ahead of us though and they may leave before us. I am concerned that these are only rumors, or latrineograms, and I won’t believe we’re going until we are on the ship. I’m told though that the rumors are well founded, for we have completed all training and are all set. I hope we do get going soon for I can see that this routine will get old after a while. Please remember that when we do get our orders you may not hear from me for a while since we will not be permitted to write or phone.

Give the children a big kiss for me and know that I love you more than ever. I hope this darned thing gets over soon so that I can come home to you for good. That’s what I want to get across – I love you more than anything in the world.

9 August 1943

It has become quite difficult to even get a letter off here. It seems that every minute of the day is accounted for; however I just put a little table in my cubicle so that I can write at night.

I’m fine – and gaining weight – last night I was 158 which is more than I have weighed for over a year. I am hardening up physically so that when we do get going I should be in good shape. Life here is both exciting and drab, strange as that may seem. There are activities going on all day, from classes to all kinds of physical exercises, calisthenics, drill, ball games, etc. I am going to be quite busy for the next two weeks, for the radiologist at Stark is going on a leave tonight and the Colonel asked me to take over the work while he is gone. I am more than glad to do it for it will keep my hand in X-ray, and it will be a favor for the Stark x-ray man, for he hasn’t had a leave for 16 months purely because there has been no one here to do the work. Believe me, he was glad to see me arrive and said he has been waiting patiently for me to arrive for a year!

We are going to have a little excitement next week; we are going to take a trip on a destroyer out of the Port of Embarkation. The ones who have been here longer had the trip last month, 100 miles out to sea and it has been arranged for the new arrivals. I’m anxious to see if I get seasick. There is an airfield next to Stark too, and plans are shaping to get us up in a bomber for another little trip.

With all of this activity, it is pretty definite that we are going overseas pretty soon, but the exact date of course is unknown. Then again something could always happen to the plans and we may be here for quite a spell. One just never knows. I’m told that we will get a two week notice anyway so that you and