Monday. January 22, 1945

Day off but worked on the publicity stuff in the AM - went to the English YMCA (Allied Officers' Club) for tea. Shopped for Jimmie's tobacco and cigarets. Sat through two movies in the Rec Hall talking with him. The clock goes very fast when I'm with Jimmie. The most astounding thing that ever happened to me. Much too difficult to explain...but something like finding out you were a twin and separated by a bad fairy since childhood.

The radio show is faster, smoother, as if controlled by a zeitgeist. Jimmie came into the studio before I'd finished so I produced my piece, and apologized to my five listeners, and "to the sixth listener who wanders in by mistake and whom we won't let out because of the noise of the door closing!". He spent the PM in the lounge - while I answered requests and had one of the boys do a pastel portrait of him.

Sunday, January 21, 1945

Went to the office late as it was not "my" Sunday - early. Wrote publicity story rest of day - not much done though, for I asked Jimmy to come over. It was rather wonderful to hear a Sunday PM symphony over the radio at that point. No wonder I didn't get much writing done - all Tschaikovsky - went to the Rec Hall movie with Jimmie in the evening. We talk all during every movie, and never know or have the faintest idea of the plot or who is playing. Informed me that it is spelled Jimmie - so that's it - we walked through the rain for a few minutes after Rach closed the Rec Hall - and I came home and talked with the gals. Perfectly content, in our warm little hut, not to be in Oxford where I'd planned to go with Hamilton Greene. Don't know why he didn't call - he checked out of his hotel in London I learned by phone. So much for that - have to write in the office tomorrow while Phil is at a wedding of a nurse and a corporal here. Don't know how they get to that point, because nurses are forbidden to date enlisted personnel. You file a request and publish the bans two months before you want to get married, and wait for permission.

(pictured: Symphony Hour in the Rec Hall)

Saturday, January 20. 1945

A very exciting day for some reason. Wrote some letters for Col Johnson in the AM - and a snappy script for the AGH. Unfortunately, Jimmy was in the station, and during the nonsense I caught his orb and got the giggles - first time ever muffed a script. Did books and stationery on nine wards in the PM - pulling the book cart over mats and matting until I was fairly frantic. The wheels aren't lined up right. I don't think the men need the book cart, but I suppose the matches and the stationery, and the Red Cross appearance is good. They have plenty to read of the S.S. editions. Got Jim's O.D.s lined up at the tailors so he was sharp at the Officers' Club. If you could have seen the impressions when I proudly escorted my G.I. to the bar for a double Scotch! But his playing later was so smashing that everyone was charmed. Had a mortal struggle with the fireman holding the coal myself, had to keep him from firing during a number! The dope had orders to keep the fires fed - Capt Brown relieved me. Talked to J. for two hours after the dance. (pictured: Officers' Club)

Friday, January 19, 1945

Movies afternoon and evening in the Rec Hall - Jimmy made his debut as a pianist at the 188th yesterday at the Detachment Mess birthday party. Played about 50 minutes - they gathered around later, he said. He'll play tomorrow night at the Officers' Club - fingers crossed for him. We want him to come in to the Detachment but he's ready to be assigned and the rule is that the patients go to a Replacement Pool, and go out from there whether or not their own hospital wants them. He's not going back to combat, so the psychiatrist says - nor home. So some UK detachment will be lucky. Jimmie was at a Red Cross hut somewhere in Germany after two weeks of bombardment, a gun in each hand, obscured by mud, a week's growth of beard, half asleep...somebody handed him a record for the Vic and it was his own arrangement of the piece and the band he did it for. Like Barney finding my chapter on thoroughbreds in the New Hebrides. Two birthday parties - coffee with Jimmie in patients' mess - club later where the medicos were discussing malingerers. Interesting. (pictured: Rec Hall)

Thursday, January 18, 1945

Another day and another doughnut for the boys. Thursday is Club Mobile Day - we don't touch them, but the club gals come and give out twice a week. The ward boys take trays and containers and go to meet them. Very necessary stuff. Got to attend at the premiere of "Rhapsody in Blue" - Oscar Levant a joy. But not so much a joy as Jimmy Livingston who also plays the piano. We went to the PX tonight for my five packs of cigarets and cokes. Almost blown over by the wind and rain, and ran off the walk in the dark. I've become addicted to that guy in his pyjamas and robe, and 120 wpm patter. It's sort of exciting - mentally a blitzkrieg. Haven't felt so spellbound for a very long time. Hope he stays around. Queer thing, that quality of excitement some people have. I wish I knew if it were good or bad. We knock each other out talking, and I haven't laughed so much since taking the veil. We all love him.

Capt E. a pronounced success on the radio. English entertainers in wards tonight. Also an explosion in the vicinity - not like Ohio thunder!

Wednesday, January 17, 1945

It's one AM again - no letters written - nothing accomplished again in the hut. Had a charming letter from Johnny a month old, after his three-weeks old one yesterday. Also a picture Jay had taken on some island.

Did wards this morning and got requests for pinochle cards, letters to be written, magazines, stationery. Delivered nine birthday cakes in the PM. Mrs. Murray accompanied me, and we had coffee and cigarettes with May Fleming's officers and Capt E. at Lt Taylor's birthday party. Ping-pong tournament at night, and Jimmy Livingston practicing piano surrounded by his tent notes. Brought me to the hut where I gave him a box of Kleenex and some fanciful soap - the lads can't buy Kleenex. Jimmy is disturbed and so am I over his future disposition. We want him in the Detachment to build up the band - do arrangements, etc. We want him. He's almost ready for D.I. or the army - but he is no armoured infantryman. This is the army - it's pretty tense at times. Capt E. in with his script for me to read. Goes on as a news analyst tomorrow.

Tuesday, January 16, 1945

No one to show my Red Cross stuff to in London Monday, so I'm to write the whole story and will send it on. Was most amused to get a clipping from the Columbus Dispatch from Dad which had been taken from a letter I wrote Helen C. Seems everyone in town read it. I particularly laughed over the part where I fell asleep in the Allied Officers' Club lounge...I much prefer to edit my material when it's going to newspapers! The picture of Jeanne and me accompanied it. Letters from Durham, Johnny, Faye, Lou G., and a luscious package of glamor from Maria.

The radio program today was "A Big Bowl of Crepes Suzettes" with Jimmy Livingston playing Gershwin, and Lt Joe Snyder from Flora Ill. singing divinely. He sang with the St. Louis Municipal Opera. Jimmie talked to me for about four hours PM and evening about his army and musical history - and how he cracked up under 88's. trench mortars, and much gun fire near Aachen. Bless him - I hope we can keep him here with our band - plans are on foot. Had a rousing Bingo Evening - new patients. Capt E. and I talked until midnight in the club. Ham Greene called me from London during inspection!

WASHINGTON, DEC 9 - (Special to the Dispatch) - A former Columbus girl, Miss Virginia Cooley, now serving with the Red Cross in an Army hospital in England, writes Washington relatives of her attempts to cheer the wounded men and to keep them busy at handicrafts. She's getting ready for the hospital Christmas celebration now.

She is the daughter of W.V. Cooley of Galena, Ohio, and the sister of Col. Kenton Parkes Cooley, formerly stationed at Fort Hayes barracks, now on duty with the infantry in Washington. Miss Cooley was formerly employed as interviewer with the Ohio State Unemployment Service in Columbus and is a graduate of Ohio State University.

"Christmas is the big thing," she writes. "We're cutting cans into stars, saving plexi-glass shavings for snow, making cardboard canes, collecting cellophane from cigarets, etc. The men are so wonderful at helping and of course, it's occupational therapy in a way.

"I gave two or three dozen birthday parties in the wards last month, serving cake, but most of all I like to give them felt fur slippers, and teach them to make things like belts and teddy bears."

Continuing, she tells of the life of a Red Cross worker in England now.

"This has been a typical evening. Worked in the wards delivering books and stationery today. It's been misting and drizzling cold rain all day. I can now take it like a proper English woman. Went to town, dozed from sheer fatigue before the fire at the Allied Officers' Club (British), had dinner with some people at the Red Cross Officers' Club, including a colonel from our neighboring hospital who is doing marvelous plastic surgery there. I was at their dance last night, and had a delightful time. Their club is much more luxurious than ours, since our hospital was only set up last May, and still is undergoing some growing pains.

"Tomorrow morning I'm going on a three-day leave. Shall visit Cardiff, which is said to be a most lively and attractive city. I have so little time away from here I feel I should see as much as possible. I have "attended" on several afternoon tours to nearby places of interest, such as Marlborough College, Gloucester, Broadway, visited cloisters and cathedrals, eaten crumpets, etc., but actually what I need is a good sleep in a private room. We are most congenial but the life of a goldfish has its drawbacks. I am very tired and have to get up at 6:30 tomorrow. These trains are an experience!"

(Photo: Miss Virginia Cooley, now serving with the Red Cross in England, is shown prior to her departure for overseas, with her niece, Mrs. Horace Greeley, of Washington, D.C., both formerly of Columbus. Mrs. Greeley, daughter of Col. and Mrs. Kenton Parkes Cooley of Washington has not seen her husband, Maj. Greeley, formerly of Columbus, for four years. He is a prisoner in the Philippines.)

Monday, January 15, 1945

Day off - spent most of it on the bed, writing. Soph is down in London shopping for us and assured me she is going to peddle my ARC piece to Headquarters. Seems to think I could get a publicity job in London; asked me if I'd stay on here at least four months. Will I? I wouldn't leave for the world...I'm hospital-minded now - and would die of nostalgia. Mail from Dad, Louise, Mabel - cards from Helen and Anne. Had tea in my favorite green short chair at the Mead House - took a Cosmopolitan along to read Paul Gallico's article on Buzz Bombs in London. First complete magazine story I've read for many months. Got some flowers at Dusty's request. Missed dinner. Mailed two packages home with my treasures. Soph arrived from London around 11 PM having met Ham Greene accidentally at Grosvenor House. He was thrilled to see the 188th, and will call me in the AM. In the middle of her recital Rachel, who was a little buzzed, came from the mess with 3 lbs. of purloined steak which she cooked on the spot - we really enjoyed it. Got a handkerchief from Lt Dormond's mother.

(pictured: back: Sophie Schramko, Doris Duston; front: Phyllis Coe, Rachel Garrett, Virginia Cooley)

Saturday, January 13, 1945

Officer patient making toy elephant for Capt. E.

Spent the day in the office, and on wards with music group of entertainers. Always enjoy taking them to the wards for they love to have the diversion, and I've become a regular MC. I threaten to sing myself, which puts them in a receptive, humorous frame of mind for whatever (!) is coming. Had an accordionist, singer, and a "bones" novelty act.

Special Services gave the poor troopers salami sandwiches and coffee afterwards, which was certainly no treat. They expected better, I'm sure. Puffed the Gershwin film on the radio - played "An American in Paris" with program notes.

Spent a couple of hours on trench feet and EENT wards in the eve. Talked with a sweet chap from Minnesota who just arrived and was pleased to murmur with a gal from Ohio. (You fall in love several times daily on this job.) Went to the club with Capt E. who was O.D. and made rounds en route. Failed to get Ham Greene in the Orchard Hotel, London. Mrs. Murray arrived at our party radiant, having left her own where titled guests' rambling bored her. I guessed her black dress a Lanvin model, which pleased her. Bought in Lisbon. Coffee at the mess late with Capt E. and Cols T. & D.

Friday, January 12, 1945

All day in the office - sort of day I don't feel I accomplish anything. Policed the place in the AM with GI help, and tried to help collect an art class for Mrs. Murray in the PM. She is charming and talented, but no interesting material has turned up recently. I cut out some felt elephants for the officers' ward to make. Talked to an officer who is a psychotic - wants to marry his nurse fiance who recently visited him. Nix, says Capt E. to such nonsense!

Capt E. was conducting a Jewish service and couldn't go to Mead House for tea with me. The place was full of British brass, including a general and a Scottish kilt - my heaven, they're dashing! I didn't meet them, but chatted with a British engineer. I know. Had a Rob Roy cocktail at Murray's and back to Mead house with Capt E. for dinner. Hamilton Greene called me from London and asked me to please come down Sunday night - he's going home! Says London is "bloody" but come anyway. I told him I'd call him tomorrow night.

Had two scotches and several beers with Capt E.

(pictured: felt toys made by patients)