Page 80 - The History of Veterans at Highland Springs

ROSEMARY NICHOLS
HIGHLAND SPRINGS RESIDENT, ARMY NURSE
My military tenure was brief but spectacular. In 1959, I enlisted in the Army Nurse Corps to travel and complete my education as a “professional” (BSN) nurse. Little did I realize that I would meet and marry my Navy jet pilot soulmate and experience a once-in-a-lifetime nursing duty assignment. In late1960, and maybe after killing many lab rabbits, I received an honorable discharge—at that time granted to pregnant female officers. Walter Reed Hospital was my first-choice request. It was the post-Korea era, and the political mood was positive. As new staff, I rotated shifts and units depending on need. It was great experience as I learned new skills in Urology, Neurology, Thoracic/Cardiology (the heart-lung machine was newly in operation), and Dermatology. I even had the rare privilege of serving in Ward 8, the VIP Suite reserved for top officials and their families. While there, Nixon had his knee fixed, Mamie Eisenhower had allergy testing on her forearms (where her white gloves would cover), and the Eisenhower grandchildren had their tonsils out. It was while I was assigned nights on the Neuro Ward when the ER crew delivered a disheveled and odorous unresponsive male veteran who reportedly fell down the stairs at the Army/Navy Club. “Just another drunk,” I remember one saying. I flinched at his comment, knowing then as now, ER staff’s irritation as well as society’s bias towards alcoholism as a moral rather than a disease entity. As I cared for him, it was apparent that he had suffered a stroke. By morning, he had better hygiene and was responsive (if only to utter cusswords). He was confused and needed continuing calming care and comfort. Unable to use his right side, he was very angry. Before change of shift and report, a bevy of top brass in full colors came on the Ward asking to be taken to his bedside. As I led them to my patient, I learned he was a retired WWII 4-Star General! I was young and in shock, but I remember one of the men had “Clark” on his nametag. As they were making plans to transfer him upstairs to the VIP Suite, the General grabbed my skirt with his left hand, muttered more profanities, and indicated I was to accompany him! And that’s how I got to do Private (or Lieutenant) Nursing Duty on Ward 8, the Presidential VIP Suite!
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