RuthDorsman

First Lieutenant Ruth M. (Haddick) Dorsman
Army Nurse Corps

Ruth M. (Haddick) Dorsman was born in 1921 in Baltimore Maryland. After graduating from Nursing School,
emulating her brother, she enlisted as an Army Nurse in 1942. After months of rigorous training, in October
1943 she shipped out for overseas service in Southern England. Her military career assumed real significance
as she landed on Omaha Beach on D-Day plus six, June 12, 1944. She served as a Post-Op nurse caring for
critically wounded soldiers in a Field Hospital under the most primitive of conditions. Ruth Dorsman witnessed
first- hand the terrible price of sacrifice among the young men who defended their country, and placed herself
at risk for the same cause. She endured shelling, mines, extremes of weather, and physical hardship as she
tirelessly worked to save the lives of those injured, including enemy soldiers. Her hospital unit stayed close to
the battle lines as the front advanced. Her unit leapfrogged across France, Belgium and Germany, survived the
Battle of the Bulge, and witnessed the crossing of the Rhine at Remagen. She stopped just 60 miles short of
Berlin at War’s end. Her unit had won five battle stars and a Presidential Unit Citation.

Ruth met her husband Henri Dorsman after the War. He had served in England as well, with the Army Air
Corps. They were married and settled in Newark Delaware, raising a family of three. Their shop, Dorman’s
Hobby Toyland was established originally on Main Street in an old A&P food store. Later they moved across the
street to the corner of Main and Choate Street where Happy Harry’s is located today. Ruth Dorsman has
traveled extensively, taught class, and written several books. She gained experience as a caregiver, an
entrepreneur, and a pioneer who ventured where few women of her time would go. Not unlike countless other
veterans, she refers to her World War II experience as among her greatest accomplishments. What follows is
an excerpt from her journals relating to her Army career.

     I was in my senior year of Nursing School in Baltimore Maryland when on December 7, 1941, the Japanese
bombed Pearl Harbor. Not long after, my only sibling, my brother Harold W. Haddick joined the Army Air Corps;
so that determined my course of action. I would join the Army Nurse Corps, but first I must finish my senior
year, and pass my State Board Exams. As soon as this was completed, I went to Headquarters Third Service
Command in Baltimore and enlisted.

     On November 1, 1942 I reported for duty at Fort Eustis Virginia. It was a wonderful post with a very nice
General Hospital, housed in Army Barracks connected by catwalks. We were immediately assigned to ward
duty and indoctrinated into the Army way of life. Nursing duties were not unlike those in civilian hospitals, and
we wore the same white uniforms. We started as Second Lieutenants and beginning pay was $100 per month,
although that included living quarters and subsistence. Food was served in the Officer’s Mess in the Hospital.
We were also taught close-order drill and we marched in “Review”. Our first uniforms were Navy colored,
trimmed in Maroon, although this was soon changed to official Army Olive Drab, and we also got a pay raise.
Our first outfits were G.I. – Government Issue.

     In July of 1943, twenty-one nurses were recruited to be shipped to Camp Livingstone, Louisiana where we
joined nurses from other camps to become the 100 nurse compliment of the 58th General Hospital bound for
overseas. At Camp Livingstone we had no nursing duties, but we spent the month there going through
rigorous overseas training. We were issued all of our combat gear including clothing which consisted of fatigue
uniforms, jackets, heavy-duty shoes, and helmets. We were loaded down with equipment – bedrolls, duffel
bags, musette bags, gas masks, mess kits, canteens etc. On top of that we endured medical and dental
exams, received numerous inoculations against everything imaginable, blood tests, and typing; we received our
dog tags and were fingerprinted for our new identification cards.

     Our training was almost as harsh as the men’s. We went on many hikes; some of them were overnight so
we could test our bedrolls. Close order drill was a daily occurrence; we were even subjected to Infiltration
Courses.   We had several chances to test our gas masks when they would suddenly, without warning, spray
the area with tear gas. Or better still, when we were subjected to “Lethal Gas” chambers just to prove that our
gas masks worked.

     Finally, after a month of this, we were all declared “Combat Ready”.   The Post Office was kept busy,
because we all had to pack up all unnecessary clothing and personal belongings, including cameras and
diaries. These were considered risky because if you were captured by the enemy, these could reveal Army
secrets. Most of us took a small camera anyway; mine was cheap, took very small black and white blurry
pictures, which I am sure, could not have been any help to the enemy at all. Likewise my diary was a small
notebook, very dull reading. I am really sorry that I didn’t record more pertinent information about our hospital
– it would make writing this story now after 60 years so much easier and more accurate.

     Finally, in August, our entire 58th Hospital came together as one unit and met on the train. Nurses, Medical
Doctors, and Personnel and enlisted men took up the entire train of day coaches. It took a full three days to
reach Camp Shanks New York, our P.O.E. (point of embarkation). But it was not to be. There were German U-
boats patrolling the Atlantic shipping lanes. It was too dangerous to send a convoy through. So, off we went to
Fort Devons, Massachusetts for five more weeks of drill. This time, for diversification, they added “Pitching Pup
Tents”, but still no nursing.

     In October we came down to Fort Dix New Jersey, another P.O.E.; but this time we did ship out. At 2 A.M.
on Friday October 7, we left New York harbor in the middle of a large convoy of Navy ships. We were on the S.
S, Monterrey, a converted Cunard Line cruise ship with more than 7000 passengers on board. Officers were
eight to a room on hammocks piled four high. Food was in the Dining Room and was actually really good.
Enlisted men did not fare so well. They all bunked below decks and in the hold and their food was from the
“chow line”. By the second day out, the seas became pretty rough, and lots of soldiers came down with
seasickness. I felt fine, so I volunteered to work in sick bay every day from one to seven P.M. We had three
days of rain but the seas finally calmed down. On Tuesday October 19 we docked at Liverpool England. We
finally debarked at ten P.M. (the Army always moves at night). The Red Cross, bless them, were waiting with
coffee and donuts. We marched to the train which was an all-night ride to our destination in the Cotswold Hills
of Southern England.

     We lived in Quonset huts, each containing eight single beds and a pot-bellied stove. There were many
such huts for living quarters, offices, mess hall, a recreation hut and several hospital wards, all on a lovely
farmland surrounded by a stone fence. It was not really a working hospital, usually just one ward was open for
mundane complaints such as colds, upset stomachs, aching muscles etc.   So, with one hundred nurses
available, we rarely had to go on duty. So, guess what?! We had time to fall out for close-order drill and
exercises. We spent a cold, wet winter in England. It rained a lot, not a downpour, just a misty drizzle; not
enough to keep us indoors, so we marched in the rain.

     But all was not lost. Some of us bought bicycles. I used mine to great advantage, riding for miles around
the countryside. Our commanding officers were quite liberal with leaves and consequently I spent many
weekends in London. There was much to see and do spite of the nightly German air raids. Sometimes there
were direct bomb hits and we had to seek shelter in the underground metros. In spite of all the devastation and
destruction, the Brits carried on. They were reserved, but quite friendly; they treated us well. I also visited
many other famous places in England such as Bath, Oxford, and Shakespeare’s Avon. I had a week’s leave so
I spent that touring Scotland. Of course there was always a friendly pub, with drinking, singing, games and
camaraderie.

     A general hospital is the last stop in the line of wartime facilities. First was the Field Hospital, which stayed
close to the front line, took in all major casualties for operation, and backed up the major battles. Next came
the Evacuation and Station Hospital, larger and not so mobile, who took evacuations from the Field Hospital
and overflow surgical as well as medical emergencies. They were the back-up for the Field Hospital. Lastly
came the General Hospital which had a more permanent set-up and took care of everything.

     I was with the 58th General Hospital, but I really wanted to be with a field unit, so I kept putting in for a
transfer. I became such a nuisance that in the Spring of 1944 my transfer finally came through. In fact, in the
month of May I was sent to four different locations.   First I spent a week at Station Hospital that certainly did not
need me at all; this was in Southhampton. Next I was with an Evacuation Hospital for a few days, but finally was
sent to the 51st Field Hospital to replace a nurse who was ill and had to be sent home.

     The 51st was located in Cheddar, England and we were billeted in private homes with local families. This
was the first week in June; the invasion was imminent and we were scheduled to take part. Our Chief Nurse was
Myrtle Evans. Major McCafferty, who was the Chief Nurse of the entire 7th Corps, joined us temporarily.   We
were transferred to a staging area on the Southwestern tip of England, called Land’s End. We were in tents
awaiting the invasion. At last on Tuesday June 6, 1944 the invasion began on the beaches of Normandy.

     On June 9, we marched to the port and boarded the British Liberty Ship “Francis Drake” with orders not to
undress while we were on board. We each received nine packages of “C” Rations, our food for the next three
days. We slept in hammocks, four high. The ship remained in port for the next two days, then late the second
night we sailed. The English Channel was fairly calm now and about six A.M. on the morning of June 12 we
anchored off the coast of Omaha Beach. Literally hundreds of ships lay at anchor all around us, just beyond
the range of German shells that frequently hit the water and exploded. To avoid making us a tempting target
the nurses were not allowed off the ship until after dark, at which time a large rope net was tossed over the side
of the ship, and all eighteen nurses scrambled down the side into waiting Landing Craft, followed by all the
other soldiers on board. The crafts quickly headed into shore, the front of the ship came down and we waded
ashore, across the beach and climbed up the now well-worn paths to the top of the cliff, where the nurses re-
grouped to await orders.

     We were met by some of our male officers. Our enlisted men had landed two days before and as soon as
our trucks loaded with supplies arrived, they set up our tents and hospital units. Our hospital was located atop
the cliff near to St. Laurent and Vierville. The front line was just four miles inland, with the First and Twenty-
Ninth Divisions at the front. Our hospital had already taken in patients and had started operating. Half of the
nurses went on duty that night. The rest slept and came on duty at eight A.M. I took the first shift, but by eight
A.M. we had so many Post-Op patients and were so busy that I just stayed until noon. And that’s the way it
would be for the next five days in this location. Work your twelve hour shift and stay three or four hours
overtime and sleep the hours in between.

     All the nurses just jumped right in and did whatever needed to done, all urgent stuff like give I.V.s,
administer oxygen, pass stomach tubes and set up suctions, possibly change bandages, and give shots. We
were given a new drug, still in the experimental stage to use on all patients to see how well it worked, it was
called “Penicillin”. We added 20cc distilled water to a small amount of powder in a small vial, thoroughly shook
it up, withdrew the fluid into a 20cc syringe, and thus we could administer one cc to twenty patients by just
changing the needle between patients. Actually at this first location we discovered that we did not have nearly
enough needles, so undaunted, we lit a match under the needle after each shot until the match burned out,
thus producing a reasonably sterile needle. Every patient received a shot of Penicillin every four hours. We
never had a reaction; Penicillin was a new drug, so no one had developed and allergy to it yet.

     I’ll take the space here for a brief description of how a Field Hospital works. First of all, it has the supplies
and enough tents and equipment to form three separate complete hospital units. These three units can spread
out to take care of a large area. When the front moves forward – the hospital unit in the rear can evacuate all
its patients and move to the forward position. The unit in the middle can still be operating but start to evacuate
its patients then it can jump to the front. In this way we can play leap-frog and keep pace with the front line.
Each unit has ten Two and a Half ton trucks with trailers that the men can fold up, load all the equipment, and
be ready to move in one or two hours. So the units are very mobile.

     Each unit has six nurses (three day nurses, three night nurses), this means that one nurse per tent with two
or three ward men is taking care of thirty or more seriously wounded patients. Besides our own four doctors
who act as assistants, we had a special attachment of surgical teams four surgeons and four surgical nurses,
who do all the operations, thus we can keep two or three operating tables busy 24 hours a day.

     Each infantry battalion had its own medics and battalion aid station. When a soldier is wounded at the front
he is picked up by medics, put on a stretcher, and given first aid at the aid station. As soon as possible he is in
an ambulance on his way back to the Field Hospital where he goes into the Receiving/Shock Tent. Minor
wounds that were transportable were sent back to the larger hospitals. Field Hospitals kept only seriously
wounded patients that could not be transported.   These patients were recorded, then immediately given Shock
treatment, blood, oxygen, wounds cleansed and bleeding controlled; whatever necessary to stabilize then and
prepare them for surgery.   Today I guess that would be called Triage, but that was not yet a word in 1944.
There were always some patients that we were unable to save, some that never made it to surgery. Our
mortality rate among Post-Operatives was generally under ten percent which, all things considered, was very
good.

     As soon as a one of the surgeons completed an operation, he went to shock tent, took whatever patient
was ready, regardless of the nature of the wound. Most operations took about three to four hours. Then the
patient was taken to the Post-Op tent, and his stretcher was placed on the closest empty cot. There the post-
op nurse took over. This was my domain, where I almost always worked.

The Doctors never took time to write orders – they were all routine. Once in a while there would be a case that
would require special treatment. The doctor usually came over to explain it. Ninety percent of our patients
were either abdominal or chest wounds. Chest mainly required oxygen. Abdominal required a stomach tube
connected to a suction apparatus. Of course, we had no suction apparatus, but with two empty IV bottles
(which were glass) and IV tubing it took but a few minutes to rig one up and they worked exceptionally well. All
abdominals also had a temporary colostomy which required frequent dressing changes. And of course every
patient received an IV (1000cc glucose or normal saline) twice a day. We had no constant drip IVs back then.
In fact, nothing was disposable back then. We had a small gas stove under a little tank of water in which we
boiled all our needles, clamps etc. Water came from our portable tank on wheels. There was a central supply
that sterilized all our bandages. O.R. instruments, supplies etc. We did have a small generator that supplied
electricity to the O.R. shock tent, X-ray, and whatever else absolutely needed it, but not to Post-Op – at night
we worked by lantern light.

     We had very few amputations as I recall. Perhaps these were among the patients we sent back to larger
hospitals. We had occasional head wounds and usually at least two or three burn patients. These were
Tankers, whose tank had been hit by flame throwers. The heat inside the tank seared all exposed areas of
skin, mostly face head and arms. These were treated with Vaseline bandages and with both hands and face
completely covered; they required special help with everything they did. Besides that, they usually suffered
several days of delirium.

     Every patient arrived in the Post-Op ward on the same stretcher that brought him from the front line. He
was still fully clothed. In Shock Ward his clothes had been cut away to expose the area of his wound. That area
was thoroughly cleansed and was sufficient space for the surgeon to perform the operation. As soon as we
had the time after an unconscious patient arrived from O.R. we removed all of his clothes. The easiest way to
accomplish this was to use our bandage scissors, cut through al layers of clothing, top to bottom and slip them
off. These clothes and shoes were discarded. We always checked the pockets and saved his personal items
in a cloth pouch tied to each cot. We had no sheets, pillow, pajamas etc. Such frills were considered excess
baggage and not necessary for the patient’s welfare. So each and every patient lay on a cot with “scratchy”
wool Army blankets under him, covering him, and folded up as pillows under his head. But did any of them ever
complain? NEVER! Rarely did we hear any complaints form our patients – they were so happy to be alive and
so brave!


     Nurse duties consisted of strictly important nursing procedures. Thirty to fifty seriously ill patients were
cared for by one nurse and two or three ward men. These young men had only a minimal basic medical
training, but they were terrific and were such a big help to us. There was no time for basic ward duties – we did
not take routine temperatures, did not give daily baths, there were no linens to change etc. Best of all, there
was no charting. In that “Ditty Bag” on each soldier’s cot was one sheet of paper with only pertinent
information. About the only thing we had to record was the time a narcotic was administered. The office took
care of his personal record that went with him on evacuation. We held to sanitary conditions as nearly as
possible and rarely had infections beyond occasional respiratory problems. The new sulpha drugs and
Penicillin were the miracle drugs- they kept infections to a minimum, promoting healing and saved lives.

     After five extremely busy days of duty at our first set-up on the hill above Omaha Beach, we caught a
break. Our other two units had set up ahead of us, so we stopped receiving and began to evacuate all of our
patients. Since there were still no hospitals to back us up on Omaha, our patients were taken by ambulance to
the /beach, put on now empty landing craft and taken back to England. Also by now, there was a landing strip
eight miles away at Utah Beach, where fighting and German resistance had been much less severe. Planes
with Air Corps Nurses made several flights a day to evacuate up to fifteen patients each trip back to England.
This early evacuation was out of necessity – eventually we set a routine that Chest cases were not to be
transported back before seven days, abdominal cases not before ten days.

     Statistics: During that first five day period, the 1st unit alone handled:
Total Admissions                636
Total Operations                356
Died before Operation        15
Died Post Operation        11
Mortality Rate                less than 5%
The rest of the patients were evacuated unoperated.

With only two days rest, our unit packed up and moved to Cartigny Epinay near St. Lo, backing the 29th
Division. This was a very busy set-up. The Germans put up a very stubborn resistance to hold St. Lo; actually
six weeks of heavy fighting, which means we had many casualties. On July 25th the Allies got really mad and
they flew a steady bombardment with 3000 planes over St. Lo. The sky over our hospital was black with planes
and just kept coming. This so demolished St. Lo that the Germans gave up and retreated. The Allies took St.
Lo.

On July 30 we moved to a new location just a few miles past St.Lo, another busy set-up. We were in a field
right next to an Artillery Battalion. On August 5, one of my ward men, Sergeant Eugene Trestor was killed. He
had grabbed a stretcher and ran to the next field to rescue a wounded soldier.   While carrying him out, Trestor
stepped on bouncing “S” mine that went through his head and killed him instantly. This really touched all of us.
We had a church service for him and Trestor was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star Medal.

We really worked hard and steady, exceptionally busy when there were battles just ahead of us. Sometimes,
when there were a great number of patients, an extra Post-Op tent could be set up to take care of the
overflow. When there was a heavy concentration of fighting, two or even all three of our units could be set up
together to cover the battle area. Our supplies came in regularly by ship and were usually no problem. At one
point near St. Lo we were experiencing an extreme shortage of Blood, but this was largely overcome by
volunteer donors from nearby troops.

Many times shells and bombs landed dangerously close to our hospital, but fortunately, there were no direct
hits. We had no lights or heat in our living areas and some nights could be pretty cold. Our water tank was
kept full of drinkable water. We bathed in a helmet-full of cold water. Our toilets were slit trenches, or a hole in
the ground. Most of the time we had a seat, and we were afforded privacy by a tarp around all four sides, but
no roof. Our constant attire was Army Fatigues and men’s high top shoes, and we usually had to wear our
heavy jackets to keep warm on duty. General duty was twelve hour shifts, 8 to 8, either day or night. There
were times when there was a lull in the fighting. When there were no battles, there were no casualties, so we
spent days sometimes doing nothing, just sitting in a field in bivouac. But we did keep moving, field to field, to
keep up with our troops.

Still, even with all the work, we had time to play. The officers from nearby were happy to visit with us or take us
to a party at their headquarters (nurses being the only available women). As soon as they captured a town, the
fighting units took domain over any brewery, distillery, or wine cellar they could find, so there was no shortage
of refreshments. The nurses had nothing else to do with their spare time and we really enjoyed their company
also…

During all this time of the German occupation of France, a growing “underground army” called the Free French
kept forming. In essence, they were spies, getting information by radio back to England. Of course many had
been apprehended tortured and killed. As the Allies liberated towns and areas the Free French came out of
hiding to join our forces. By the time we reached Paris, 30,000 French troops had been added to our
numbers. Paris was liberated on August 25, without a fight. The First Army held back and allowed the Free
French under command of General Le Clerc to march in and accept the surrender from German General Von
Chalitz. Von Chalitz had orders from Hitler to burn Paris to the ground, but he just did not have the heart to do
it. General Charles de Gaulle who had been commander of all French Armies when Hitler invaded escaped to
Great Britain and had lived in exile since 1940. At five P.M. August 25 General de Gaulle arrived in Paris amid
wild enthusiasm from the crowds and was declared the Leader of Free France. Six days later we were camped
near Paris, so several of us got a pass to visit the great city. We toured lots of great cathedrals, museums, and
the Eiffel Tower. What a THRILL! Me, this little farm girl, was actually in Paris.

On September 1, the 51st Field Hospital made a giant leap forward of more than 100 miles to St. Erme, as small
town just past Reims. We were so far ahead of everyone that we had to take all the casualties. The retreating
German Army had just left their wounded and their dead, so it was up to us to pick them up. Our tents were full
to overflowing. It’s a good thing the weather was nice, because we had rows and rows of wounded on
stretchers, lined up just on the ground outside the tents. Doctors made their rounds, giving first aid, and
separating out the seriously wounded. The surgeons worked 24 hours a day, barely taking time out to rest.
We gathered together all the ambulances, trucks and other vehicles to evacuate all minor wounds to the
nearest hospital more than 100 miles away.   This went on for more than a week. Other Field Hospitals in other
sectors faced the same dilemma. Finally a larger Station Hospital moved in to relieve us. We stayed one more
night to help them, and then we moved on into Belgium, becoming the first hospital across the Seine, the
Marne, and the Aisne Rivers and the first to enter Belgium.

Since leaving Normandy, at every stop that our convoy made, swarms of French came running to greet us –
offering food, drinks, hugs and kisses. The Belgians were even more enthusiastic. “Les Americains” had
liberated them and they were expressing their thanks with love!!

Our three units set up separately in three different areas of Belgium. My unit number one was at Verviers. All
through central France and Belgium the Germans had been retreating so fast that there had been little or no
fighting, so people were still living there and carrying on as usual. At Verviers, many of the townspeople came
right to our hospital area (but not inside the tents) to watch us work. They invited us into their homes. I actually
made some close friends with whom I corresponded for some time after the war.

The Germans had stopped at their borders and made a fighting stand, determined to keep out the advancing
Allied Armies. Our hospital had been backing the entire VII Corps sector of the 1st Army and so had lots of
patients and some of them were German. All along, we had taken in German patients and they were sincerely
grateful for our help. They are, after all, just young men who have been drafted and pushed into the war, and
now they were glad to be out of it. Occasionally we got an SS (Storm Trooper) or a fanatic Nazi and they could
be really NASTY – but fortunately, that did not happen too often. We just ignored their insults and went about
our duties.

On Sunday September 17, 1944 we moved to Roetgen, a little town just inside the German border. It had been
raining for days and the weather had turned very cold. Even though the Army found it necessary to issue us
long underwear (khaki color), it didn’t help much. The field had become very muddy and it was so slippery
inside the tent that we were actually falling down. We had so many patients that we had to put up an extra tent.
It was so cold that urine was actually freezing in the drainage bottle on the muddy floor. Our Supply Officer
scouted around and found a vacant school house, so we moved indoors for the first time. WOW! We had
electric lights, steam heat, and wood floors. Class rooms make excellent wards and we even had desks and
cupboards. Our mess hall was in the school cafeteria. An empty house right next door became nurse’s
quarters with real beds, kitchen, bathrooms and real showers. WOW! This was heaven. Another pleasant
surprise – on September 7 all of the 51st Field Nurses received “Battlefield Promotions” to First Lieutenant and
a party to celebrate.

Aachen, an important industrial city just ten miles north of us was captured on October 10. At our location in
Roetgen, we were sitting right in the path of German V-2 rockets, Germany’s “Secret Weapon”. Before the
invasion, Germany launched thousands of V-1 “Buzz Bombs” from the Baltic coast onto London. These caused
extensive damage and killed more than 6000 people before their launch sites were discovered and destroyed.
Now they had introduced the V-2 “Screaming Mimi’s” and every night we could see the streaking light and hear
the shrill sound as they passed overhead. These flew higher and faster and inflicted even more damage. It was
several more months before we found and destroyed the new launch sites.

Come November, we were experiencing much snow – so glad we were no longer in tents. However, snowball
fights are a welcome diversion. Our unit had been working steadily in this one location in Roetgen since
September 17. Casualties from Hurtgen Forest had been very heavy at times and usually we were very busy.
November 15-18 we were rewarded with a welcome break. All five nurses were given a pass to Malmedy – a
First Army rest area. The other nurses covered for us on duty. We spent three days in a beautiful resort home
in the mountains of Malmedy Belgium. Several officers from Corps Headquarters that we already knew, were
there also. It was a real party weekend. Then back to Roetgen to resume our duties. By December 1 we were
winding down, cleaning up the wards preparatory to handing it over to another hospital. Roetgen was our
longest stay in one place – 75 days. We had over 700 admissions, 578 operations and 158 deaths, almost
20% mortality rate – due possibly to the fact that we were much further from the battle fields, also to the severe
weather.

By December 4, 1944, our entire group – all three units – moved on bivouac to Eschweiler Germany. All
eighteen nurses lived together in a large private home, plenty of room for all. Our officers lived in another
home. All the enlisted men lived in a castle in Aachen. We had no work to do.

On December 16, Hitler made one last big strike- the Battle of the Bulge. We had to retreat back to Huy
Belgium where we opened our hospital in a large barracks type building, all three units working together.
Fierce snow storms had left us knee deep in snow and it was bitter cold. We handled many casualties from the
northern sector of the Bulge, but one area was not being covered, so the 1st unit moved to Lierneu Belgium
and opened using the facilities of a former mental hospital. Here we took care of many patients, including
several Germans. By the end of the year, we caught a break in the weather and our planes were back in the
air, our infantry advanced and by the end of January the Allies had completely repulsed the Battle of the
Bulge. But it was at great cost; more than 20,000 dead, and Germany lost 120,000 soldiers from which she
never recovered.

This was the beginning of the end. We finally crossed the Ruhr River, but he Germans held steadfast at the
Rhine River. They had destroyed most of the bridges. On March 7, 1945 came the famous crossing of the
Rhine at Remagen. A sergeant of the 9th Armored Division happened upon a partly destroyed railroad bridge
at Remagen, unguarded and open, so he led his platoon across. When the bridge finally fell nine days later,
we had a pontoon bridge in place. This is where our hospital crossed. After this we had no memorable set-ups,
one briefly in Cologne, and another in Berleburg, where we had but a few patients. While I was on duty in
Berleburg on April 12 we heard the news that our President Franklin D. Roosevelt had died at age 63.

My last move was more than 200 miles to Halle into a Luftwaffe Airfield just sixty miles short of Berlin. While
riding in a Jeep the next night we ran into a bomb crater. It was pitch dark, the crater encompassed the entire
road about ten feet deep and was unmarked and all vehicles in a war zone must run with no headlights. Half of
my right knee cap had to be removed and I was evacuated to Paris where I celebrated VE (Victory in Europe)
Day on May 8. Eventually I was set back to the United States and after recovery I elected to stay in the Army.
After a few months duty at Fort Warren Wyoming, I was discharged on 4 March 1946. The war was over and
the Army had too many nurses.

The 51st Field Hospital received a “Presidential Citation”, and earned five battle stars:
     Normandy
     Northern France
     Rhineland
     Ardennes/Alsace
     Central Europe

I would not change those days in the Army for anything. I was just proud to serve my country and “I’m proud to
be an American”.

1 LT Ruth M. (Haddick) Dorsman

A copy of this remembrance is on file with the Library of Congress.

         Return to Homepage