Courage in a White Coat

by Mary Schwaner

  Her days at home were constant reminders of where her true heart lay. Never a day went by that one or all of her three loves didn’t do something that had her bursting into laughter, singing at the top of her lungs, or choking on some poignant, unexpected expression of childish wisdom.

  The blessing of it was that these days seemed to move at a slower tempo, a smoother rhythm, a gentler pace. Days at the hospital always proved the opposite. Fast paced, hurried consultations, sweeping rescues and emergency surgeries made the hours disappear in a flash of healing art.

  February 20, 1941

  Tuesday I took out Alice Covell’s tonsils and she has done beautifully. Had a phone call from one of the missionaries on the campus on Tuesday saying that there were girls who wanted to have their tonsils out on Thanksgiving morning (it had been recommended at the time of their annual checkup), and that one wanted to have her adenoids out. When they came down Wednesday morning, I found that two of the girls were having one of the other doctors, and that the third was coming to me. Imagine my surprise when I picked up her card and found that her complaint was pain when she moved her bowels. Instead of adenoids it was hemorrhoids. When I told Fred about it, he said, “You’d be surprised where your adenoids are”. She doesn’t need an operation, I think, and will do well on treatment.

  War tensions played havoc with emotional balance in every household, and no two people experienced it in the same way. It moved things daily toward a tipping point that nobody wanted to recognize, nobody in Washington wanted to confirm, and nobody in the Chambers household wanted to either dismiss or over-react to.

  When the U. S. military began to leave the islands, Washington told the missionaries to sit tight, to reassure the Filipino people they were not being abandoned. Besides, Washington said, if anything happened it would be a three-month dust-up at best and things would be back to normal.

  An interruption of three months seemed manageable. So, life went on much as it had, with one delightful exception. Fred’s work as Dean took a surprising turn and elevated him to the position of college president. And as president, the college decided he should have a home near or on campus.

  And they proceeded to build one.

  April 14, 1941

  Opinion is divided out here as to what will happen. Many feel quite sure that Japan will not be foolhardy enough to try getting in any deeper with the U.S. than she is already. Others think she will make trouble, and still others think that if things do happen, Manila will be the only target. We are continuing to live one day at a time and enjoying life. The Board has inside information from the State Department and up to date feels that everything is safe.

  Sayre spoke recently here to a big gathering of Red Cross workers and expressed the opinion that while he thought it would be very foolish not to be prepared for some emergency that he did not think there was much chance of any invasion. To date there has been absolutely no word either thru the papers or thru the High Commissioner’s office of advice to Americans here in the Islands to evacuate so that we feel that the probabilities are that things are pretty safe. In Japan and China, evacuation, especially of women and children (and men also in Japan, I think) has been advised, but that is not true, so far, of the Islands.

  Tuesday afternoon I got a permanent wave in the ends of my hair, and it is now done much as it was when I left Denver—much to the joy of most of the people here. I think that the girl gave me quite a nice one, and that after it has been washed once will be quite natural looking. Fred thinks it makes me look younger. I felt that I needed a bit of rejuvenating before becoming the President’s wife!

  . . . .

  Dorothy darling, pack your kit. We’re going on holiday.

  That was all Fred had said. Without warning he’d come home early one day and begun to pack. No amount of poking and prodding could get more out of him, so she and Rosa scurried about collecting the necessities for a trip into the country, giggling like schoolgirls the whole time.

  His command had them in high anticipation of a great vacation. But it was mostly the way he said it that had tantalized.

  His words said holiday. His tone said, Dorothy, my ravishing wife. Time for some fun. Get your sunsuit and prepare to be wined and dined in exotic ports.

  June 23, 1941

  We have taken Siebe’s radio and Radiola (lovely toned one) and have sold our Victrola. Then Alma gave me a very good offer on her electric sewing machine, and so we have gone in for that.

  Tonight’s report is that Germany has declared war on Russia and we are wondering what effect that will have on Japan. Will she think her treaty with Germany is worth not much more than Russia’s was; will she fight Russia, or side in with her because of the non-aggression pact, or what.

  It is grand to have such a lovely Radiola.

  In light of the troubling war news brought to them on the new Radiola, the suggestion of an exotic getaway was completely unexpected. Dorothy watched Fred unpack the car she’d just carefully arranged. He’d been so secretive about this sudden excursion that she’d had to guess what to bring along.

  “May I ask...?”

  Fred lifted the Radiola over his head. “Not allowed where we’re going, darling girl.” He winked as he trotted it back into the house.

  Not allowed? Ridiculous.

  She guessed now that they were going up to the little cabin in Calinog. A week without war reports from distant corners of the world would be quite bearable in Calinog. It was a quiet, serene place—a humble spot for them to center themselves in preparation of the hullabaloo that would ensue now that Fred had been installed as college president.

  Clever fellow.

  Fred trotted back out, hoisted her typewriter from its position of honor atop her luggage and turned back toward the house.

  “Wait!” Dorothy cried. “I’ll need that!”

  Fred grinned. “Where we’re going this is the last, I mean the very last thing you’ll be wanting.” He chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

  She folded her arms in exasperation and watched as he methodically reduced the things she’d packed to one small suitcase apiece, her medical bag, and the gear they’d need to cover the cabin windows in case of an air raid.

  It was too much. More than she could stand still for. She was never without her typewriter. It was practically her right arm. Where would she spill her thoughts? How would she record memorable moments before they were over-trodden by the events of a new day?

  “Fred Chambers, I call for a compromise.” She felt strange putting her foot down, and folded her arms more tightly even as she lifted her chin.

  He stopped in his tracks, turned, and came toward her. “Darling Dor, can you just trust me on this? I guarantee you won’t even think about your typewriter once we reach our destination.”

  She huffed. “Yes of course, but I see no reason why it can’t sit in the trunk. Just in case, don’t you see? It’s a meager compromise.”

  He lifted her chin with his forefinger. “In case what?”

  “In case...in case, oh I don’t know...in case we get captured by marauding pirates and there are no pens in sight and I have to type a message and put it in a bottle. Don’t you see?”

  Fred laughed. “Pirates, you say? Well, I hadn’t thought of that. How clever of you, wife, to think of every precaution. The typewriter shall come along. But,” he said, juggling the typewriter as he moved closer for a kiss, “I’ll wager $5 it never leaves the trunk.”

  Dorothy contemplated the wager. It was a week’s household allowance. A foolhardy wager. But a safe one.

  “Done.”

  In minutes they were all in the car and passing the outskirts of Iloilo. When Fred ignored the turn north to Calinog and veered onto the coast road, Dorothy knew she’d been wrong. The tails of her scarf flew jauntily in the wind as they sang their way up the coast. Fred’s joy was completely unleashed, and it lifted her with it to an unfettered place of sheer anticipation.

/>   Six hours and two stops later they pulled off the road into a lush oasis of palms and jungle greenery. Within minutes they were installed in two small huts separated by a flower bedecked outdoor shower. Fred had brought her to the place every matron in the city spoke of as the most romantic spot in the islands.

  He’d brought her to Antique.

  September 14, 1941

  They had their first Blackout practice here last night but we were in Antique so haven’t heard how things came out. We hear that they are planning them for all along the Pacific Coast. They have been having them regularly in Manila and especially in Corregidor and Cavite.

  Divine Antique!

  Fred had been told this was the perfect place to spend their respite holiday, but the folks had completely understated its beauty. Dorothy and Fred had arrived with the children and Rosa just the day before and already Antique and Iloilo seemed to be galaxies apart.

  Dorothy sat back in the kawa bath and gave a great sigh. Rosa had put the children to bed in their hammocks after a brisk climb along the easier trail at Bugtong Bato Falls. It had been glorious. Beautiful sun, cooling mists and now this heavenly warm bath.

  She sighed heavily and inhaled the wafting fragrance of the flower petals that had been strewn across the water. Why did they not do this everywhere? Why did she have to come all the way to Antique on their respite week to find such heaven on earth in this steaming bath?

  Her toes brushed against the rough walls of the immense iron cauldron in which she sat. It was round, like a cooking dish, and she was cooking in it. Slowly. Blissfully.

  Below her, small fires heated the great rock, and it in turn heated the cauldron, which kept her bath water at the perfect temperature to make her celestially unaware of her surroundings other than the parrots that chattered in the trees that sheltered her canopied bath.

  She lifted her hand and lazily waggled her fingers. As yet, the typewriter had not left the trunk. Her warm, languid hands would be hard pressed to type a word, anyway. As quickly as the thought came into her mind, it flitted away on a breath of steam.

  Here she could feel no sense of worry. No urgency. Here she could scarcely remember a schedule. Here there didn’t seem to be a word for emergency.

  “My turn?”

  Fred called from below, waiting his turn to ascend the ladder and take her place in the heavenly stew.

  “Mmm. Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps?”

  “Mmm. Perhaps I’ll let you have a turn. If you’ll do something for me, that is.”

  “What? Throw you up a towel? Help you climb out?”

  “No dear. I want you to build me my own kawa bath.”

  . . . .

  The feeling of idle bliss stayed with Dorothy for about an hour as they navigated the road out of Antique at the end of their idyllic stay. Then, on a stretch of road they remembered as wide open and with little traffic, they encountered their first road block. It was a military installation, hastily set up but adequately manned by two Filipino officers. Cars were stopped right in the driving lane, waiting their turn to be searched.

  Fred and Dorothy kept up a cheerful front, telling Carol stories, playing pat-a-cake with Bobby, and quietly singing. But in the front seat they held hands, suddenly aware that in the space of a week the world as they knew it had changed.

  Joyful, raucous voices from a week ago had now turned quiet, cautious. Hands reached for identity papers, shaking a bit for no reason other than the fact that moving freely had suddenly became a thing of the past. Hushed explanations for the typewriter in the trunk were greeted with skepticism.

  They were stopped two more times in the six hour drive, usually near larger towns or villages that had navigable inlets. Silence had fallen between them, and the children slept most of the way home.

  And once they were home, the air raid drills began.

  October 13, 1941

  War conditions seem to be about the same as far as the Far East is concerned. Had another two hour black out last Wednesday evening. Wish that there was something useful that one could do in a blackout, but there doesn’t seem to be much except listen to the radio. Apparently the present Japanese cabinet is pretty conservative, and not much will happen until another cabinet gets in, but who knows.

  Fred has talked some of my taking the kiddies home on the Clipper (to Honolulu and Matson line from there on) but I can’t see it yet at least. Neither can Ann Waters when Henry suggested the same thing. Somehow it seems easier to face uncertain situations together than apart. Guess we will continue to live one day at a time and trust that we will be guided in doing the right thing at the right time.

  Kawa baths would remain a thing unique to Antique. Once the air raid drills began to escalate, Dorothy neither had time nor interest in luxuries like bathing in a steaming cauldron. There was too much to do. There were too many questions crowding her mind. Too much fear beginning to creep into the fringes of her thinking. But she kept it largely at bay.

  October 19, 1941

  The way things sound over the radio, it looks a bit stormy. Will send this by air to Manila and hope that it will catch one of the President boats as it leaves for the States. Will let Mother forward them to the rest of you. The radio report said last night that American Merchantmen had been ordered to go to friendly ports—and that applied especially to those going and coming from the P.I. So, mail schedules may be disrupted for a while. However, as Dad used to quote “sposin agin it shouldn’t”.

  We’ve been expecting something to break since last January, and it hasn’t altho things do look more ominous than they have before. However, we are not worrying and are taking one day at a time. It would be very difficult to get out of the country now if we wanted to, and somehow I can’t feel that that is the thing to do anyway.

  The Filipinos are Americans in the same sense that Canadians are British, it doesn’t seem just fair for us to try and get out when they have to stay by. The Army and Navy folk seem to feel that Japan wouldn’t have a chance now in trying to invade the Islands, and that we are well protected.

  So, even if the mails are a bit slow and irregular, remember that no news is good news, and that we are writing regularly, and you will get a lot at a time. We can listen in to the “Mailbag,” and get some news that way.

  Air raid!

  The words screamed in Dorothy’s head as loudly as the warning screech of the air raid horns. They’d been practicing for weeks. But the unbroken blare of the horn told her this was no rehearsal. Enemy planes had been sighted!

  Dorothy breathed a prayer of thanks that she was home today. The shrieking horns sounded clearly more ominous today.

  “Rosa! Get Bobby!”

  She heard Rosa’s feet running toward the playroom as she helped Carol into her long pants. With one hand Dorothy grabbed a rubber mattress cover to put on the floor of the dugout shelter Fred had built in the sloping side yard. There had been enough rain that the wooden pallets that covered the floor of the dugout would most likely be wet.

  Her hands felt sure and steady, even as the horns pulsed in the distance. “Hurry now.” She’d heard the alarm in her own voice and purposely softened her tone.

  The four scrambled into the shelter that was minimally supplied with a few provisions. It made no sense to keep blankets or any fabric of any kind in the dugout. It would be soaked, moldy, and useless to them.

  They had just hunkered down on the rubber cover Dorothy spread on the pallets when Fred tumbled in to join them.

  “Thank Heavens!” Dorothy tried to put a smile in her voice, but it was hard won.

  “You made it in record time, I think,” Fred praised. He held her eye and in the silent communication that they’d always shared she read the same fear she held in her own heart.

  This was only going to get worse.

  “I was sure you’d be taking cover at the college. Or in the cave, or—”

  Fred shook his head. “We knew someth
ing was up. Planes all over the sky this morning, flying sorties all directions out of Cavite, we think. Something’s up for sure to have that many planes aloft. So we piled in the car and beat it back here.”

  He stopped and took Dorothy’s hand. “It’s...it’s true.”

  Dorothy’s brow wrinkled. “True? What’s true?”

  Fred tossed each of the children a slice of orange candy from his pocket to distract them, grateful their little ears were plugged with twists of cloth.

  “Pearl Harbor.”

  “You mean it’s—”

  Fred nodded his head slowly. “They’re saying it was catastrophic, darling. I think...I think the entire naval fleet isn’t there anymore.”

  “But where would—”

  He shook his head more vigorously, a look of loss and disbelief shadowing his face. “I think they didn’t make it out.”

  . . . .

  Pearl Harbor!

  They had seen Pearl Harbor two years ago—several of America’s greatest naval vessels had been moored at regular intervals along what she now heard was called Battleship Row.

  The Arizona.

  The Oklahoma.

  Smaller warships had circled the island in a most orderly way. Instruments of war, merely awaiting orders to deploy. Stretching as far as the eye could see. But the atmosphere at the time had been positively jolly.

  Dorothy had clenched her teeth at the very sight of it then. They’d left the ship during the Honolulu layover to put their feet on dry land for a day, to have a bit of a frolic with Carol before having to get back on board the reprovisioned ship. Their belligerent’s boat.

  They’d joined a couple of sailors to motor up the coast a bit. American servicemen were everywhere. Smiling. Calling their hello’s. Sweet-talking the girls in the most salacious, almost comical way.

  It had been a bit of a contradiction then, missionaries sharing a holiday with soldiers. But in recent months, with Japan threatening a more invasive stance, the mental image she carried of the majestic scene at Pearl Harbor—with all its able young men—had brought her comfort. She had felt protected.