I’m working on a history of the Navy’s first west coast hospital, on Mare Island Naval Shipyard (which closed in 1997), across the Napa River from my northern California home of Vallejo. The spine of this historical narrative lies in correspondence between hospital commanders and the Navy’s Bureau of Medicine and Surgery in Washington DC. That correspondence has served my historical purpose very well, from before the hospital’s founding in 1870 until about 1930. Then, almost suddenly, the volume and content of written correspondence dropped alarmingly, (due to the telephone, I suspect) and I despaired finding enough material to sustain my story through until the 1940s, when the hospital and its people experienced their most brilliant days.
In desperation, I turned to a hometown newspaper, the Vallejo Times-Herald, physically bound and stored in the cellar of the Vallejo Naval and Historical Museum. (No digital copies have been made, so far as I can find). As I leafed through this particular “first rough draft of history”*, I soon noticed that certain themes – fascist vs communist conflict in Germany, monarchist vs republican conflict in Spain, growing Japanese assertiveness in the western Pacific, Gandhi stirring the nationalist pot in India – showed up on a regular basis. With knowledge of ultimate outcomes, this has become something like watching history unfolding before my eyes. It’s intriguing, almost compelling – and has substantially slowed my search for “naval hospital” sub-headlines.
But there’s more. Advertisements for the latest radios (“7, 9 or 11 tubes!” “Beautiful sound due to screen grid technology!” “Superheterodyne design!”) – pieces of living room furniture really – and for electric refrigerators (contrasted with almost desperate ads from the local ice distributor, “the most popular way to keep your food cold!”) – highlighted an almost frantic commercial push for modernity. A local car dealer’s ad daily announced, “A home is not complete unless you have two cars.” This was 1931. And aviation: there are almost weekly reports of new altitude or distance records being set (by male and female pilots!), and – almost weekly, too – headlines about crashes and deaths of those intrepid pioneering aviators.
What’s also interesting is the relative paucity of “depression” coverage in this local press. There is the occasional editorial comment about economic tough times, and infrequent articles about hungry workers in large eastern cities. But not the huge headlines we might expect, given today’s understanding of the Great Depression. Museum Director Jim Kern tells me the reason for this local indifference to economic news was that Vallejo’s dominant industry, Mare Island Naval Ship Yard, with its workforce steadily employed repairing and building ships, insulated the city from the worst of the depression’s impacts.
The page-by-page stroll through the news is giving me a vital sense of historical context for my own narrative. It’s something today’s scholars, picking through word-search-culled digital files will miss. Modern historical research methods certainly offer the benefit of efficiency. But at the price of a loss of context. The modern historian’s work is a little impoverished for not seeing history played in slow motion.
*The phrase “[Journalism] is the first rough draft of history” is the subject of a 2020 Slate.com article by Jack Shafer, here.
©2021 Thomas L Snyder
Guest Article: Symbols of Navy Medicine
Our friend and co-conspirator in the founding of the Society for the History of Navy Medicine, Andre’ Sobocinski, is the historian at the Navy’s Bureau of Medicine. As such, he’s tasked with researching and writing on the topic. Below is a recent Andre’ product, posted here with his permission. Enjoy!
Symbols of Navy Medicine
19 August 2021
From ANDR£ SOBOCINSKI
From uniforms and branding to wall decorations and command seals, Navy Medicine is steeped in symbolism. Oak leaves, acorns and caducei adorn the collars and sleeves of Navy medical personnel. Red Crosses emblazon our white-hulled hospital ships. Images of triumphant eagles and fouled anchors and the colors “blue and gold” abound throughout the Enterprise connecting us to big Navy. Throughout its history, Navy Medicine has continually leveraged these powerful communication tools to create a service and mission identity. But where did these symbols come from? And why were they adopted?
The Geneva Red Cross and Hospital Ships:
Across the globe the Red Cross (or Geneva Red Cross) is the universal symbol of impartiality and medical assistance. Under the Geneva Conventions, medical providers who wear the Red Cross are protected in armed conflicts. The symbol was originally designed by Swiss humanitarian and founder of the International Committee of the Red Cross Henry Dunant. It is the inverse of the Swiss national flag and a nod to his country’s long history of neutrality. Owing to the misperceived connotations as a religious and mediaeval heraldic symbol carried into battle by Crusaders, the Red Crescent and Red Crystal were later adopted as alternative symbols that carry the same meaning.
In 1898, the Navy’s USS Solace (AH-2) became the first U.S. hospital ship to fly the Red Cross flag denoting its role as a non-combatant in the Spanish-American War. However looking at photographs of the ship in 1898 you will not find a Red Cross painted on its hull. Red Crosses did not appear on hospital ships until after 1899. Thereafter, in accordance to the Geneva Conventions, all hospitals ship-regardless of service or country of origin-were to be painted white with Red Crosses on the “sides, superstructures, stacks and decks for identification purposes.” Today hospital ships USNS Mercy and USNS Comfort are each marked by nine Red Crosses.
It can be argued that the Red Cross has done its job in identifying and protecting hospital ships. To date, only one Red Cross-marked hospital ship has been attacked by an enemy combatant-USS Comfort (AH-6) off of Okinawa in May 1945.
The Red Cross has also been a symbol used by the Navy Hospital Corps and before 1948, Corpsmen wore Red Crosses on their uniforms. Early in World War II, at battles like Guadalcanal, Red Crosses marked the helmets and brassards worn by Corpsmen making them prime targets for enemy snipers eager to shift the tide of battle. But even without these markings Corpsmen have been identifiable because of their actions on the battlefield. Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Stanley Dabrowski once noted that Corpsmen at Iwo Jima were often singled out because they looked and behaved differently from Marines. “We carried [medical kits] which I didn’t like at all because they marked us as Corpsmen. . .because of this, we were told to carry side-arms not as offensive weapons, but for self-protection.”
The Herald’s Wand and Aesculapian Staff:
Outside of the Red Cross the caduceus is arguably the most recognizable “medical” symbol in the world. One study found that 76 percent of American healthcare organizations used the caduceus as part of their branding. This includes the Army Medical Department which has utilized the caduceus since the nineteenth century; and its Medical Corps has worn the caduceus since 1902. For Navy Medicine, the caduceus was once worn by warrant officer-pharmacists in the early years of the Hospital Corps; it has also adorned the uniforms of the largest enlisted rating in the Navy since 1948.
The symbol’s hallmarks are two snakes or serpents intertwining a staff capped by a pair of wings. In Greek mythology the caduceus was an attribute of Hermes, the herald or messenger of the gods. In fact, the name “caduceus” is a Latin term that derives from the Greek for “herald’s wand.” Whether through the herald’s connections to alchemy or simply by error, the caduceus was purportedly first used as medical symbol as early as the sixteenth century. Some scholars contend that the caduceus was used erroneously in place of the staff of Aesculapius which, by contrast, features a single coiled snake.
Aesculapius—the Greek god of medicine and healing—has often been referred to as the “snake-bearer.” His association with the snake—a symbol of healing and immortality—may be tied to the creature’s ability to shed its skin and perceivably “begin life anew.” Some scholars have also theorized that the image of the snake on the staff was inspired by the ancient practice of removing parasitic worms from subcutaneous tissue by making an incision in skin in the worm’s path and then wrapping it around a stick until it was fully extracted. In either case, this tried and true symbol of medicine has appeared on the uniforms of Navy surgeons as early as 1830 and is featured on the seals of the Navy Medical Department, Air Force Medical Service and the Defense Health Agency today.
Acorns, Oak Leaves and Tall Tales:
First adopted by the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery in 1948, the Navy Medical Department flag featured a heraldic shield with the caduceus (symbol of the Hospital Corps) and four variations of a spread oak leaf (for each staff corps). The oak leaf—symbolic of the oak tree and in turn strength and longevity—has long been used as a motif by the Navy and Navy Medicine. Sprays of live oak have adorned uniforms of both Navy line and staff officers as early as the 1820s. The oak leaf has been a chief symbol of the Navy Supply Corps. And gold and silver oak leaves are used today to denote rank of Navy lieutenant commanders and commanders, respectively.
In 1826, the oak leaf insignia first appeared on the collars of Navy surgeons. Sixty years later, the oak leaf and acorn were officially adopted by the Navy Medical Department and have been utilized as Medical Corps insignias ever since. In his Short History of Nautical Medicine (1941), historian and Navy physician Capt. Louis Roddis acknowledged the popularity of the oak leaf in the Navy, but theorized it also held a deep medical connection through its association with ancient Druids:
“The physician-priests of the Druids are linked closely with the oak leaf and acorn, which are with equal propriety considered as symbols of the medical profession. These are the insignia worn by the Medical Corps of our own Navy. . . the connection of the oak with medicine is very definite.”
Whether or not the members of the uniform board conjured thoughts of Druids when they settled on the oak leaf we just don’t know and the existing records do not reveal the decision making process. What we do know is in the ensuing years the Nurse Corps, Dental Corps and Medical Service Corps have each
adopted the oak leaf symbol to represent their own communities.
Sources.
Friedlander, WJ. The Golden Wand of Medicine: A History of the Caduceus Symbol in Medicine.
Greenwood Press, 1992.
Gray, David. Many Specialties, One Corps. The Pictorial History of the U.S. Navy Medical Service Corps. Second Edition, 2017.
Kanmodi, K., et al. On Snake or Two? Exploring Medical Symbols Among Medical Students. Acta Medica Martiniana, Vol. 19, No. 2, 2019.
Massman, E. Hospital Ships of World War II: An Illustrated Reference to 39 United States Military Vessels. Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Co., Inc., Publishers, 1999.
Miller, DG. History and Symbolism of the Naval Medical Corps Insignia. Armed Forces Medical Journal, Vol III, No. 7, 1952.
Nayernouri, T. Asclepius, Caduceus, and Simurgh as Medical Symbols, Part I. AIM, Vol. 13, No. 1, January 2010.
Roddis, Louis. A Short History of Nautical Medicine. New York: P. Hoeber, Inc, 1941.