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65th General Hospital

The 65th General Hospital was established in early 1944 at Redgrave Park in Suffolk, England and was well located to service the three 8th Airforce Air Divisions. At its peak activity the hospital expanded to 1,456 beds by adding army ward tents to the original Nissen hut facility. The 65th General Hospital handled a constant stream of front-line casualties from heavy bomber crews, as such it functioned as a “front line” medical unit. The unit treated, in 22 months of service, more than 17,000 patients during its time abroad.

From February 1944 to August 1945, the 65th General Hospital was stationed at Redgrave in Suffolk, England, a 200-acre country estate that was home to the historic mansion, Redgrave Hall. The 65th's base was located on the northeastern side of the property and consisted of approximately 35 Nissen huts that housed wards, headquarters, a dispensary, operating rooms, and laboratories. As the unit serving the 8th U.S. Air Force -- the largest of the deployed combat U.S. Army Air Forces -- the 65th staff worked long hours under difficult conditions.

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Dr. William Bridgers was a neurosurgeon who worked with the 65th General Hospital in England. This US Army unit, made up of staff from Duke University Medical Center, North Carolina, shifts were long and hard, as Dr. Bridgers and his team battled to save men wounded by flak, bullets, accidents, and the harsh environment high above Germany. “About four or five o’clock in the afternoon was what we called “flak time”; everybody was alerted and ready to receive the injured patients. One afternoon, we had 26 patients come in. Some of these patients had multiple wounds, not only head, but chest and abdominal wounds,” he remembered. “I well recall one period when Captain Brown and I operated three days and two nights without sleep.”

William Bridgers | American Air Museum in Britain

On Sept. 13th, 1944, radioman Cruz Nogales arrived by ambulance and was quickly placed in the “head trauma” area of the hospital. The assigned doctor removed the bandages the ambulance technicians had applied and noticed an open wound greater than an inch wide. The flak explosion sent a large piece of shrapnel which impacted the occipital portion of his brain. It was located on the back of his head slightly towards the left ear, and it was oozing blood.

The ambulance paperwork noted he was given morphine on the 40-minute trip to the hospital when he started to moan. Cruz was unresponsive and the doctor cleaned and bandaged the head wound. Blood pressure and heartbeat were low, and the doctor instructed that Cruz have his vitals monitored every hour for 24 hours.

The next day the doctor started a treatment on his head wound called debridement. This is a surgical procedure by which the doctor removes dead tissue from a wound to help the open wound heal. The goal is to remove as much dead tissue to inhibit the growth of bacteria. This process is followed by continuous cleaning and sterile bandaging until a scab closure can be achieved.

Over the next two to three days Cruz gradually regained consciousness. He began to realize he was in a hospital but did not know how he got there. The doctors gradually reduced the amount of morphine, and he noticed the pain at the back of his head. This pain got worse when he tried to move his legs or arm. He felt a sense of panic that he could be paralyzed, that the injury had affected his nervous system.

“Hi Cruz, I’m nurse Mary and I going to help you move around”. She massages his hand and arm and moves them very slowly. After she completed the care for both arms and legs, she stated that Lt. Murphy and two Sergeants where here asking about you. “They seemed very concerned about you. Wanted to know if they could bring you anything like cigarettes and donuts. I told them not to worry that we’re taking good care of you”. Cruz slightly nodded and spoke very slowly. “My sister is named Mary”

By the 20th of September, one week after his injury Cruz was aware of the mission and was eating apple sauce and a few bites of scrambled eggs administered by the nurse. But when he started to think about his missions, he would feel panic and would start to sweat.

It was during one of these incidents that he heard a familiar voice. His nephew Ramon was standing over him. “Como estas, brother”. “I’ve been better, how about you?” Cruz mumbled “I’m fine, everyone back home is very worried, mom goes to church every day to pray.” “Chana just wrote and told me to get the army to send you home and she would take care of you”. Ramon held Cruz’s hand and they both smiled.

“And guess what? Your mom and dad finally got an envelope from Frank. In there were several letters that he didn’t mail earlier and several post cards from Brussels!” “You don’t say, but that’s Frank, always waiting to last minute” responded Cruz. Ramon proceeded to bring Cruz up to date on their family back home, it was very therapeutic to hear Ramon tell the latest stories from the family. But after an hour or so, the nurse came over and said it was time for therapy and that Cruz needed to rest afterwards.

Over the next weeks the doctors and nurses of the 65th General Hospital attended to Cruz as he made a slow recovery. The care and attention Cruz received was second to none!

On 1st of October, Lt Roy Murphy and the rest of his crew came to visit and request the doctor that Cruz be released, so that he could return for the remaining combat missions. They had not been satisfied with the “replacement’ radiomen during the last four missions without Cruz. Lt Murphy knew that a combat crew was only as good as it’s weakest link. Their best chance for completing the last 10 combat missions was to have Cruz back on the crew.

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The Hole in the Helmet

An aircrew helmet with flak hole. Some of the most common and serious injuries suffered by patients treated at the hospital were due to flak, the enemy anti-aircraft fire that often sent varying-sized shell fragments tearing through planes and wounding men. Due to the work of the 65th staff, the individual wearing this particular helmet survived, despite serious injury. 

Duke University Medical Center Archives, 65th General Hospital Collection, Box 2

The M3 bomber crew flak helmet. Frist introduced in December of 1943; it was designed to protect against anti-aircraft shrapnel. It had hinged armored ear cups to accommodate the headsets worn by the aircrews.

The shrapnel that struct the helmet T/Sgt Cruz Nogales was wearing punched a hole the size of a 50-cent coin!  Much larger than the one shown.

After the B-17 landed his helmet was retrieved by the ground crew. That helmet eventually found it’s way to the bomb group training area.

During the training of new crews, the men were shown the proper way to put-on the heating suits, flak suits, oxygen mask, parachute harnesses and other equipment. During the process the army trainer would state “when you have been flying for 3 hours and your helmet is really starting to bother you, consider this”.

The trainer would raise the helmet high for all to see and state. “The airman that was hit by flak is alive, only because he wore his helmet”

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