Retired nurse dodged enemy fire in World War II

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Pauline Bell White knew she’d face opposition from her family when she decided to enlist in the Army in 1942.

Her mother and four older brothers were dead set against the idea of Polly, as she is known to family and friends, being sent overseas during World War II.

White didn’t back down. "I’d made up my mind. I was going," she said.

White would need that determination and mettle for the next three years as she endured nearly constant shelling and numerous close calls as she provided care and comfort for wounded GIs in North Africa and Italy.

White, now 90, was reared on her family’s farm on Bell Farm Road. After graduating from Cool Spring High School, White enrolled in nursing school. She received her nursing degree about the same time as the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

"I thought if our men have to go over there, they’re going to need medical care," she said. "I’m a nurse. Why not me?"

A few months later, White was officially a member of the 38th evacuation hospital unit in Charlotte --- a unit made up of medical personnel from across the Carolinas. She then headed to Fort Bragg for basic training. "We learned what was expected of us in the Army," she said.

With basic training behind her, White shipped out from New York aboard a British passenger ship called the HMS Andes. Sailing from New York to Nova Scotia and, ultimately to Liverpool, England, it was only after the war that she and others found out the German U-boat activity was at its wartime peak.

The stay in England would be short-lived. Two months after arriving, the medical staff that would form the 38th Evacuation Hospital boarded a Dutch ship and sailed to Algeria.

As they neared the coast, she said, they stood on deck and listened to the flash of fire and noise of battle. "We began to realize this is it," she said.

They went ashore on Nov. 9, 1942. Getting ashore was a challenge in itself, she said.

White and her shipmates struggled over the deck railings with a full pack, a pistol belt loaded with a mess kit, water canteen, canteen cup, first-aid pouch, hatchet and a shovel with a folding handle. White was also carrying a suitcase and wearing a heavy coat.

She had to climb down a swinging rope ladder and drop into an assault boat bobbing around in the waves below. "I couldn’t swim, so I made sure to judge the right time to drop so I would land in the boat and not in the water," White said.

Getting to the beach didn’t offer any more security. "We were in water up to our knees and had to hit the beach running to get out of the line of fire," she said. "That was just the beginning of what we were going to go through."

The temporary housing for the 38th Evac was a deserted French military garrison, but that wasn’t much relief. It was filthy, insect-infested and offered nothing but a cold cement floor to sleep on, she said.

They cleaned up the garrison and stayed there until the supplies arrived and they could set up the hospital. Within a day of pitching the tents for the hospital, some of the staff awoke to the screaming of the nurses who were on duty. A windstorm blew the tents down. "We were struggling, in the dark," she said.

White said the unit moved often during the next 10 months, following the fighting forces. Shelling was an almost constant occurrence, she said. White said she was scared but counted on her faith to guide her through. "I knew I was in God’s care come what may," she said. "It finally got to the point that being in life-threatening conditions seemed to be normal."

Not only did they endure constant danger, the staff contended with rugged weather conditions, ranging from incessant rains and cold to temperatures exceeding 115 degrees.

Water was in short supply and bathing was a luxury rather than a necessity, she said.

White said the nurses and medical staff learned to appreciate the smallest luxuries. Once, she said, the unit was an on train trip and the train made frequent stops. Many of those on board took advantage of the stops to stretch their legs. During one such stop, she said, an Arab man came up, balancing a large bushel-size woven basket on his shoulder. The basket, she said, was full of eggs. "We had no way to cook the eggs," she said. The man grinned and broke one of the eggs, revealing they were hard-boiled.

They took the man’s entire supply of hard-boiled eggs back to the train and shared them with crewmates.

After spending nearly a year in North Africa, the 38th Evac moved into Italy, again trailing the fighting forces.

Being women and nurses offered little protection from enemy forces. Six nurses died on one Italian beachhead invasion, she said.

She said they scurried like rabbits to get off the open beach and find shelter in bushes along the shoreline.

Like in North Africa, the weather again tested the resolve and mettle of the 38th Evac, she said. A blizzard ushered in 1944 near Riardo, Italy. Driving rains turned into sleet and high winds began blowing the tents over, one after another, she said. The latrine tents and mess tents were casualties of the winds. The ward tents came down on the patients. They were wet, cold and some were just recovering from surgery.

The medical staff relied on flashlights to tend to their patients.

Someone managed to leave the unit and get to a nearby unit that had telephone service, she said. The 5th Army headquarters was notified and, soon had ambulances and trucks on hand to move the 600 patients.

The next day, as they surveyed the damage, they discovered the New Year’s turkeys that had been cooked the day before were scattered about the base. Undeterred, the members of the unit cleaned up the turkeys, and managed to warm them and fix hot coffee. "We were so grateful for the hot coffee and turkey sandwiches, even if the sandwiches were made with soggy bread," she said.

While the sounds of shells were ever present, she said, the hospital setups were usually spared direct hits. That changed as the war continued and the Germans were beginning to lose the battles.

"The medical compound became one of the most feared places on the beachhead and earned the nickname ‘Hell’s Half Acre,' " she said.

Still, in the midst of "Hell’s Half Acre," she said, there was time for fun and for sightseeing in Italy.

In June 1945, the 38th Evac closed its hospital for good as the war in Europe was over. A couple of months later, White and her fellow soldiers headed for home.

Getting home proved to be difficult. After managing to get from Norfolk, Va., to Winston-Salem, White found herself waiting for a bus ride to Statesville. As she walked toward the bus, civilians rushed past her, pushing and shoving to make sure they got on the bus.

White said she was shocked. After three years in the Army, she was used to order. "Nobody pulled rank," she said. "You waited your turn."

The bus driver solved her dilemma. The driver motioned for her to come over and invited her onto the bus. He pointed to an empty seat behind him, telling her military personnel were always given priority.

On the trip from Winston-Salem to Statesville, curious passengers quizzed her about her war service --- something she found difficult to discuss. The tears flowed and she shook her head and the passengers quit asking questions.

She got to Statesville and now needed to get from downtown to her family’s home on Bell Farm Road. A call to a cousin, Alvah Bell, who lived in town and had a telephone, netted her a ride to her family home.

"It was already late in the day," she said. "He got me and all my luggage and headed for Bell Farm Road."

Several of her brothers had built homes adjacent to her parents’ house. As her cousin approached her family’s property, he started blowing the car horn. "He blasted it all the way, right into mother’s yard," she said.

Her mother, who had been so worried for three years, was delighted to see her daughter again. Her two younger brothers, Francis and L.P. Bell Jr., were not there. They were still overseas, serving in the Navy.

Back home, White settled into the post-war mode, eventually marrying William R. White, also a World War II veteran.

Polly White continued her nursing career, quitting in 1980 to take care of her ailing husband. She took care of him, largely by herself, until he died in September 2000.

Nearly eight years ago, she put together an account of her service in World War II, calling it "Angels Watching Over Me" and her unit was detailed in a documentary called "If They Could See Us Now: The Story of Charlotte’s 38th Evacuation Hospital," which aired on WTVI in 2007. She attended the premiere of the documentary on Sept. 16, 2007.

She also detailed her husband’s service in an account called "A World War II Journey."

White came home from World War II with six Bronze Stars, one Presidential Unit Emblem, a European, African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal, an Honorable Service Lapel Button, WWII and a World War II Victory Medal. Years after the war, she was awarded a Silver Star in lieu of five of the Bronze Stars.

She also came home with the knowledge that her willingness to serve made a difference for many wounded soldiers.

"I feel quite proud to have served my country three years and eight months," she said.