transcript

Speaker 1:
[00:00] A listener note. Against the Odds uses dramatizations that are based on true events. Some elements including dialogue may be invented, but everything is based on research. United States Navy nurse Dorothy Still mends a torn mosquito net in her lap. It's July 1942. She's sitting on a rickety bench in a courtyard at Santo Tomas College in Manila, Philippines. The school has been converted into a prisoner of war camp by the occupying Japanese army. A drop of Dorothy's sweat rolls down her neck. Even though the bench sits in the shade of a tree, it's searing hot. Other prisoners huddle nearby. Most live in a cluster of shanties a hundred yards away. There aren't enough classrooms at Santo Tomas to house all the prisoners, so hundreds of captives have had to build these shelters using scraps of wood and tin. Suddenly, a commotion makes Dorothy look up from her sewing. She sees a barefoot Filipino man sprinting toward the camp's gate. Five Japanese soldiers are close on his tail. They tackle him right as he reaches the gate. The man thrashes and kicks at the dirt, but he can't free himself. A moment later, Dorothy sees the camp's commandant, Sadaki Kenishi, strut up. It's not even noon, but he's already sipping from a bottle of sake. Kenishi screams in Japanese and points at the tree Dorothy is sitting under. The guards pick up the man and drag him toward her. As they approach, Dorothy recognizes the man as a vendor, who enters the camp every day to sell mangoes. Dorothy grabs her sewing and stands to leave the courtyard. She wants no part of whatever's coming. She's barely taken a step when Kenishi screams again. Two guards rush up to her, blocking her path. One speaks a little English. You will stay and watch this man's punishment. What did he do? The guard shrugs as he herds Dorothy a few yards away to join the other prisoners. Dorothy's heart races as she watches as two other guards tie the vendor to the tree. The man looks around wild-eyed. Kenishi utters a command, and the guards start punching the man. They work their way up his torso inch by inch. Kenishi stalks around them, barking orders. By the time they get to the vendor's face, Dorothy can't watch anymore. She turns away, but a guard standing behind her grabs her. He grunts and points, insisting she watch. She winces as the guards continue to pummel the vendor relentlessly. After what feels like an eternity, they finally stop. The Filipino man is slumped, his body limp against the tree. His face is a mask of blood, but he's still breathing. Dorothy shifts her weight on her feet, waiting for the guards to leave, so she can try to help him. But Kenishi yells to his guards, thrusting his hands, pantomiming a stabbing motion. The guards near the vendor hesitate, which only enrages Kenishi more. He drops his bottle of sake into the dirt, grabs a guard's rifle, and stabs the man in the gut with a bayonet. The vendor bellows in pain. Dorothy flinches at the sound. Kenishi strides off, bottle in hand. The guards untie the man from the tree and haul him away. Dorothy feels dizzy and nauseous. She still doesn't know why this man has been punished so severely, but she realizes that's the point. Kenishi wants them to know that anyone can be beaten at any time, for any reason at all. From Audible Originals, I'm Cassie De Pecol, and this is Against The Odds. In the early days of World War II, a group of American Navy nurses serving in Manila learned that Japan had taken control of the Philippines. They were jailed in a Japanese POW camp called Santo Tomas, and had no idea when or if they'd be rescued by American forces. By 1943, a year into their imprisonment, the conditions at Santo Tomas had grown more and more difficult. The camp was overcrowded, and rations were cut, and the commandant subjected the prisoners to increasingly harsh punishments. Desperate to get out, the nurses made a risky gamble, but they soon realized that they may have made a grave error. This is Episode 3, The Devil You Know. Nurse Mary Rose Harrington flips through a book while picking in her lunch. It's the same lunch as it is every day in Santo Tomas Prison Camp, a bowl of rice gruel. It's September, 1942. Harrington sits with her fellow nurse, Edwina Todd, in a shanty behind the machine shop that's been turned into the infirmary. Like all of the shanties, this one is small and dingy, with a dirt floor and no windows. Harrington takes another bite of the gruel, but her teeth chomp down on something hard. She yelps and spits the food onto the floor. Amidst the gruel, she sees a dark object. That's a rock. Todd shoots her a sympathetic look. You're lucky you didn't crack your tooth. Harrington pushes her bowl away. The gruel tastes terrible anyway, like wallpaper paste. She tries concentrating on the book instead. But she's already read it twice. She finally gives up and stares out the open door. Between the rows of shanties, vendors sell mangoes and bananas. Most of them stayed away from Santo Tomas for a few months, after one of them was beaten and stabbed by the guards. But they're back now. They have to make a living, too. Harrington size. What I wouldn't give for some fresh fruit. We need to figure out a way to make some money. The Japanese don't provide the prisoners of Santo Tomas with necessities like bedding, toilet paper or soap. Instead, they give each prisoner a small stipend to use to purchase items from a commissary. However, many of the other prisoners at Santo Tomas lived in Manila for years before the war started. They have local friends and neighbors who weren't taking prisoner. These associates slip them money and care packages through the gates. The nurses don't have these same connections, and after paying for their basics, they never have any money left over from their stipend to buy anything extra like fruit. Harrington nudges Todd with her elbow. You got any get-rich-quick schemes? Harrington's joking, but to her surprise, Todd nods. She picks up Harrington's book. Actually, I do. What if we rented these out? She explains her idea. In addition to the poor food and the cruelty of the guards, one of the biggest struggles at the camp is boredom. People have nothing to do all day. But among them, the nurses have dozens of books. They could pool them together and rent them out for a few cents a week. Harrington laughs and agrees to help organize it. She hopes it works. If she doesn't find a way to get better food soon, she's worried she'll start showing signs of malnutrition. Mary Rose Harrington slaps her leg and frowns to see a smear of red there. Another mosquito got her. Her legs are already covered in welts from other bites. The mosquito nets they've been using are so torn, they're practically useless. It's December 1942. Harrington stands in a crowd of a few hundred prisoners in the courtyard at Santo Tomas. Ten yards away, a dozen Japanese guards stand watch over cardboard boxes stamped Red Cross. Inside are relief packages, and the captives are desperate to get their hands on them. But the guards show no sign of turning them over. Harrington and the other prisoners have been waiting for an hour now. She finally pipes up at the guards. Hey, when do we get our packages? Come on. An interpreter snaps his head to look at her. When the commandant is here. The crowd around her murmurs in frustration. Harrington stares at the boxes. Her stomach grumbles just thinking about what might be inside. She's heard there's candy and crackers and tinned meat. It all sounds delicious. Harrington is all the hungrier because somehow, the food in the camp has gotten worse. A month ago, the commandant cut their meals to two per day. And this morning, Harrington's porridge had dead worms in it. The nurses' lending library has brought in some money, but not enough to buy a whole meal's worth of additional food. At last, Commandant Sadaki Kenishi opens the door of the administrative building and ascends the steps. The guards near the boxes snap to attention. Kenishi approaches the boxes and takes out a knife that's fastened to his belt. He slices into one box, tears open a package inside, and paws through it. He holds up tins of food. Harrington's mouth waters as she reads the labels. There's corned beef, bacon, condensed milk, even chocolate cake. She tells herself she can't eat it all in one sitting. Kenishi beckons toward the guards and shouts an order in Japanese. The guards bend over and pick up the unopened boxes. But instead of distributing the packages to the prisoners, they turn and haul the boxes inside the admin building. The prisoners yell in protest. Harrington calls out. What's going on? When do we get our packages? The interpreter casts a glance over his shoulder. When the commandant says you can. When will that be? The interpreter repeats the question to Kenishi. He grins as he answers. Harrington doesn't need the interpreter to translate. They'll get the packages whenever Kenishi decides they'll get them. That could be tomorrow, it could be in months, or it could be never. Harrington's anger dissolves into despair. She's hungrier than ever. But her real anguish is the feeling of helplessness. Harrington realizes there's no limit to Kenishi's cruelty. She would do anything to get away from him. But for now, she's trapped. Dorothy still hurries to the Navy nurse's shanty and squeezes herself in. There's barely room to stand. The shanty's tiny, half the size of her kitchen back home. The other 11 nurses are crammed inside. Dorothy puts a hand on the shanty's tin wall to steady herself. Between the lack of food and her workload, she feels as if she might pass out. Her scalp is itching as well. She caught lice from a patient. Edwina Todd smiles at Dorothy. And the 12th anchor is here. The nurses have started calling themselves the Twelve Anchors after their Navy roots. We can get this meeting started. It's May 11, 1943, and Chief Nurse Laura Cobb has summoned all the nurses here for an important meeting. But Dorothy has no idea what it's about. Cobb clears her throat. I suppose you've all heard the rumor about Dr. Leach. Well, it's true. He's leaving us for the new camp. Dorothy hangs her head. A week ago, Commandant Sadaki Kenishi declared that Santa Tomas was getting too crowded. There are 4,200 prisoners now. The Japanese are converting another college 40 miles southwest into a camp. It will be called Los Baños. In the announcement, Kenishi asked for 800 volunteers to transfer there. Specifically, he requested male volunteers who can help build barracks. To entice them, he called Los Baños a jungle paradise, even a health resort. But no one believed him, and only 200 men put their names forward. So Kenishi is now forcibly transferring prisoners, including Dr. Charles Leach, the camp's best doctor. Dorothy is about to ask how they're going to manage all the patients with one fewer doctor when Cobb continues. But this might not be goodbye to Dr. Leach. I have an idea. I think we should volunteer to go with him. Oh my god. No, should we go with him? She concedes the risks. Conditions at Los Baños could be worse. There could be less food, and they don't know what kind of infrastructure the new camp will have. But the advantages of moving are real. They can keep working with Dr. Leach. There will be fewer patients. And even if Los Baños isn't paradise, it is in the countryside. It will be far cooler this coming summer than hot, humid manila. Best of all, transferring to Los Baños will put them beyond the reach of Commandant Kanishi, whose behavior has grown even more cruel. He now forces sick patients to join work groups and haul 50 pound bags of food and cement around, even on broken legs. Cobb ends with an appeal. Given that we're in a civilian camp, military protocol no longer holds, so each woman here can decide for herself if she wants to transfer. I'll go around the room. She begins with Mary Rose Harrington, who says yes immediately. So does Edwina Todd. As Cobb proceeds, and one by one the nurses answer yes, Dorothy doesn't know what to choose. Cobb is right. Life at Santo Tomas is hard, but it's familiar. Dorothy has no idea what Los Baños will be like. She's not so sure she could handle anything worse. Dorothy is the last one called on. Every other nurse has voted yes. Cobb looks her directly in the eyes. Dorothy, how do you vote? Yes or no? Dorothy sees the other nurses staring at her, waiting for her answer. If she votes no, their little group will be broken up, perhaps forever. Dorothy's eyes drop. Yes, I'll go. The other nurses clap. The Twelve Anchors will remain united. Dorothy ekes out a small grin. Even if she bickers with Cobb and the other nurses sometimes, she simply couldn't face life alone here. Dorothy still stands at the cracked open door of a boxcar, fanning herself with her hands. She's red-faced and sweating. So is fellow nurse Helen Gorsalansky beside her. It's at least 100 degrees in the metal cars, maybe hotter. They're all eager for the train to start moving again. Dorothy checks her watch and calls out to the 100 men packed into the car behind her. 10 more minutes until we rotate again. She scowls as another train full of Japanese troops passes them on a parallel track. Apparently, military trains get higher priority. How long will she and the other prisoners be left here to cook in these metal cars? It's May 14th, the day the nurses transfer to Los Baños. But what should have been a two-hour journey has already taken five, and Dorothy has no idea how much longer there is to go. Their trouble started at the train station that morning. Instead of a passenger train with proper seats, the Japanese brought container cars for shipping goods with no air slits or ventilation. Then after the Japanese packed the first car full of prisoners, they padlocked it shut. Upon seeing this, Dr. Leach and Chief Nurse Laura Cobb marched up to the guards and yelled that the men inside would suffocate. Dorothy watched this exchange in fear. Cobb was wearing a flowery-lay necklace. She was once again concealing records beneath her shirt, but she'd gotten right in the guards' faces anyway. Dorothy had to admire her bravery. Cobb and Leach finally got the guards to agree to open the boxcar doors a little, but on one condition. The Japanese insisted on putting two Navy nurses in each car and promised to shoot the nurses if anyone escaped. As Dorothy waits for the train to start up again, the stench of sweat is overpowering. The men are losing water fast. She's been having them rotate every 20 minutes, so no one is stuck in the back too long without fresh air. But she worries it's not enough. Dorothy checks her watch again. Just six more minutes. What's wrong with him? A commotion in the back of the car interrupts her. Dorothy can't see what's happening, but she hears someone vomit and collapse. Dorothy calls out. Is he okay? Can you bring him to us? But there's no room. Everyone's crammed in too tightly. So Dorothy makes a decision. Let's rotate early to get that man to the front. No way. No. He can wait. The men near the front yell in protest. They don't want to be cheated of any fresh air. Dorothy pleads with them to help their fellow captive, but no one moves. There's little Dorothy can do except keep checking the time, counting down the final minutes. Meanwhile, yet another train of Japanese troops rumbles by, and the interminable wait continues. As she listens to the men whimper in the heat and gasp for air behind her, it feels like the guards don't care if all the prisoners make it to Los Baños. A nagging fear grows in the pit of her stomach. Maybe they aren't on their way to a prison, but rather a death camp. Chief Nurse Laura Cobb sits on a bench near a wooden building at the Los Baños Prison Camp. She inhales deeply, taking in the scent of flowers and fresh bananas. Los Baños smells better than Santo Tomas did, at least. It's 7:55 a.m. on May 16th, 1943. Cobb's second day at Los Baños. It's been a rough transition to her new home. After a 7-hour train ride in overpacked box cars, the prisoners finally arrived at the camp. But instead of being shown to a building, everyone was forced to sleep outdoors. Mosquitoes nearly ate them alive. In the morning, Cobb and a few others confronted the camp commandant. They informed him that failure to provide shelter violated their rights under international law. And unlike Sadaki Kenishi back at Santa Tomas, this commandant heeded their concerns. The nurses were given a dorm, while the men were told to sleep in the gymnasium until the barracks were built. This left Cobb optimistic that she and the nurses made the right choice in transferring here. Plus, the campus has a real infirmary, the building behind her. At 8 a.m., Cobb gives a friendly wave to Dr. Charles Leach, who's drawing near. Good morning, doctor. You're right on time. In the military, we call that five minutes late. Huh, you can't expect us civilians to keep up. You look a bit flushed. How are you feeling? Cobb stiffens. The truth is, her heartbeat's been erratic these past few weeks. She's put it down to stress and poor nutrition, but a part of her is worried it might be something more serious. Still, she doesn't want Leach to suspect that there's anything wrong with her. Oh, it's nothing. I didn't sleep all last night. You and me both. But I'm excited to see this infirmary. It will be a nice change after that machine shop at Santa Tomas. Yes, it feels luxurious, shall we? Leach holds the door open and they head inside. But Cobb's optimism plummets upon entering the clinic. It's completely bare. Even the cabinets have been torn off the walls. All that remains is a surgical table bolted to the floor and an iron oven to sterilize instruments with steam. When Cobb opens the oven, she groans. There's crusted rice all over the inside. It appears someone tried to steam rice in there and broke it. She turns to Leach. Well, we have no medicine, no bandages, not even glasses to get patients a drink of water. Leach looks crestfallen, which is exactly how Cobb feels. If anyone falls ill or injures themselves, Cobb doesn't know how he'll treat them. Nurse Basilia Torres-Steward smooths her skirt and takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. Her fellow nurses are all standing around the infirmary, waiting for her to begin. Steward worries they can see her legs trembling. She hates public speaking. Unlike her husband Jerry, he's a natural with crowds. But Chief Nurse Laura Cobb gives her an encouraging smile. Steward grabs the first item on the surgical table in front of her, an onion, and begins. This is a local remedy for coughs. It involves mixing onions and sugar. It's May 20th, the nurses' sixth day at Los Baños. To everyone's surprise, the infirmary is actually taking shape, thanks to volunteers from among the prison population. An electrician fixed the steam oven to sterilize equipment. A few woodworkers have started making chairs from lumber scraps around campus. A former shop teacher fashioned water glasses from old beer bottles and silverware from corrugated tin. But the men can't make everything. The ward still needs medicine. That's where Stewart comes in. She grew up in the Philippines, so she knows a variety of local remedies. And today, she's teaching the other nurses. She peels the onion and slices it. Then she drops some into a beer bottle glass and pounds the slices with a blunt dowel to free the juice. Once she has an inch in the bottom, she drops in a sugar cube and crushes it. She holds up the cloudy solution. Have patients with coughs gargle this. I know it sounds strange, but it works. After this, Stewart holds up the leaves from one of the guava trees around campus. Do you see the ridges? That's how you know it's guava. Brew them into tea. It's very good for dysentery. She shares other tricks. Sap from rubber trees can keep bandages in place. Stringy fibers from banana leaves can be woven into mosquito nets and pillowcases. To fill the pillows, they can use fluff from the seed pods of K-Pock trees. By the time she wraps up, Stewart realizes she's been speaking for an hour The other nurses applaud. Stewart blushes. She wishes her husband Jerry could see her. She's never been certain where she stands with the Navy nurses, being a civilian and the only Filipina among all these Americans. But today, she feels proud. Chief Nurse Laura Cobb hears a knock on the infirmary door and braces herself. She's fearful of the confrontation she expects to occur. She's worried things could even get violent. She opens the door to find the medical officer for the local garrison of Japanese troops, who are stationed a few miles from Los Baños. He sent word he wanted to see Cobb today. She doesn't hold the officer, whose name is Shigeru, in high regard. He freely admits he knows nothing about medicine. He comes from a rich family and simply wanted an easy job in the army. So every few days, he stops by to see Cobb with a list of ailments his soldiers are suffering from. He expects her to write down remedies. As usual, Shigeru starts with pleasantries. He spent time in the United States and speaks English well. You look lovely today, Miss Laura. How are you and your nurses getting along without Dr. Leach? Cobb sighs. It's August. Cobb and her crew had been at Los Baños for three months, and things seemed to be getting worse every day. A few weeks ago, the US government traded some Japanese captives to free Dr. Leach. Cobb was happy for him, but crushed for the camp to lose its only doctor. Now, the nurses have to provide all patient care on their own. And that's far from the only problem. The camp is bare bones. Los Baños doesn't even have a good sewer system. There's barely running water here. For basic hygiene, they had to build a latrine and a sluice to flush waste out. They were promised new clothing, but that never materialized either. Some of the nurses finally found a bolt of denim in an abandoned building on campus, and sewed new outfits. They tore their dingy old uniforms into bandages for patients. Prisoners have also had to throw up rickety barracks just to house people, because the population of Los Baños keeps growing. On one hand, Cobb is proud of all that the prisoners have done to make life here bearable. On the other hand, they shouldn't have to be so clever. They should have proper housing, proper clothing, proper food beyond rice and sweet potatoes, and proper medicine. Basilia Torres Stewart's remedies have been a godsend. The onion-sugar mix does wonders for coughs, as does the guava-leaf tea for dysentery. But they can't jury-rig their way around every problem. Her tinctures can't treat diabetes, malaria, or yellow fever, which is why Cobb has resolved to confront the medical officer. After their chit-chat, Shigeru pulls out the list of medical complaints for his soldiers. But Cobb refuses to take it. She feels her heart fluttering in her chest. I'm not offering any more free medical advice. Shigeru looks startled. But Ms. Laura, that violates your oath as a nurse. My men need help. You have a duty to aid them. No, I'm tired of being exploited. We need real medicine here. Insulin, mercury bichloride for infections, anesthesia for surgery, plus real bandages. You're hardly in a position to negotiate. Nor are you. If I stop helping you, you'll be exposed as a fraud. Shigeru pleads with Cobb. He says the Japanese keep close watch over medicine. It would be impossible to divert the drugs here. Cobb trucks. Then we have no deal. Your men will suffer like ours do. Shigeru's face goes red with fury. He rants at Cobb and flings a chair across the room. Just as she feared, things are turning violent. And she knows that if he attacks her, there's no one to protect her and no hope of justice. But no matter how much he rages or how frightened Cobb feels, she won't budge. Shigeru finally exhausts himself. He scowls at her, but says he'll see what he can do about obtaining the drugs. He stalks out, promising he'll return tomorrow. Cobb nods and feels her face stern and strong as he goes. But as soon as she's alone, her shoulders slump and she feels all her energy drain. She has to support herself with her hands on the nearby table. The confrontation exhausted her more than she expected. But it was worth it to help her patience. Dorothy still reads the note in her hands and feels her head swim. Honestly, she can't make out all the words. Paper is scarce at Los Baños, and the note is written on the torn out page of an old book. But she can read the two most important words at the bottom. Love, Thomas. It's mid-September, 1943. The note is from Thomas Terrell, a civilian pilot who was working in Manila at the beginning of the war. He and Dorothy bonded over both hailing from Southern California and have become close. He's tall and handsome and sure has a way with words. Dorothy reads the note over again, feeling almost giddy. Help! Help! A pounding on the door interrupts her. Dorothy tucks the note into her pocket and opens the door. She finds Shigeru, the medical officer of the local Japanese garrison, standing outside. He's supporting another Japanese man who's moaning in pain, clutching his abdomen. Dorothy helps the man to a chair. Ben yells out, Doctor, come quickly. It's an emergency. She's yelling for Dana Nance, a physician who was part of a fresh batch of prisoners who arrived two weeks ago. The nurses rejoiced when he arrived. Not only was he a doctor, but he'd smuggled surgical tools into camp. Nance rushes in. He's a stocky man with slick back hair. He takes one look at the groaning man and barks at Dorothy. Lay him on the table. Shigeru helps Dorothy move the man. She notices a tear in Shigeru's eye. He wipes it away, mumbling that the man is a close friend. On the table, Nance palpates the patient's torso. The man moans softly each time, except for one spot. When Nance presses there, the man howls. Nance nods. It's appendicitis. We need to operate immediately. But Shigeru shakes his head. We'll transport him to Manila. It's too dirty here. There's no time. We need to operate now. An argument ensues, but Nance holds his ground. He finally tells Shigeru he has two options. Do the surgery now, or have his friend die in his arms on the way to Manila. Shigeru stares at Nance. How do I know you won't kill him on the table for being Japanese? I'm a doctor, not a mercenary. Shigeru bites his lip, wrestling with the decision. Okay, but if he dies, I'll shoot one of your nurses. Fine, now step aside. Nurse Dorothy, scrub in and get us set up. I'm going to summon a few more nurses to help. Dorothy stands there stunned. She glances at Shigeru, who glares at her, then walks over to the window. In a daze, Dorothy heads to a wash basin to clean her hands. How can Nance be so cavalier with a nurse's life? Even with Nance's tools and the medicine Cobb has been able to secure, the infirmary is a risky place to perform a surgery. But she has no choice but to help. The patient's life and hers are now in the doctor's hands. Nurse Dorothy Still lays out the surgical instruments on a stand next to the operating table, where an ailing Japanese man groans in pain. Dorothy knows that Dr. Dana Nance likes his instruments in a certain order. First, the scalpel, then the medical scissors, finally the forceps and retractors. But Dorothy's hands are trembling so badly that she drops the scalpel onto the floor. Nance scowls at her. Dorothy tells herself to remain calm, but given the stakes here, it's hard. If this man dies during the operation, a nurse will be shot dead in retaliation. It's mid-September 1943, in the infirmary at Los Baños Prison Camp. 20 minutes ago, a Japanese medical officer named Shigeru burst in with a friend, suffering from acute appendicitis. Nance insisted on operating and brought in two additional nurses, Mary Rose Harrington and Susie Pitcher. Shigeru also summoned someone, a guard with a rifle. Dorothy glances at him now and shudders. When everything is ready, Nance turns to Dorothy. Nurse Dorothy, put him under. Dorothy grabs a can of ether and sloshes some onto a rack. Its fruity smell fills the room as she places the cloth over the patient's mouth and nose. A minute later, he sinks into oblivion. As soon as he's under, Nance holds out his hand. Scalpel. Dorothy passes him the scalpel and Nance slices into the man's torso in one smooth motion. Then Nance curses. He's bleeding more than he should be. Nurse Harrington, grab that gauze. We've got to staunch this. Mary Rose Harrington snatches the white cotton from the table and presses it into the incision to stem the flow of blood. Susie Pitcher jumps in to help her, but the gauze quickly turns bright red, soaked through with blood. Dorothy's mouth goes dry. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Shigeru gesture to the guard with a gun. The guard moves his finger to the trigger. The room swims in front of Dorothy's eyes. She forces herself to breathe deep, but she's never been so terrified in her life. Finally, the bleeding slows. Nance snaps at Dorothy. Forceps. The next few minutes pass quickly. Using the forceps, Nance locates the appendix and gently brings it up to the incision, until it's sticking out. It looks like an angry red sausage, ready to burst. Nance barks for the scalpel. He hands the forceps to Mary Rose Harrington, who holds the appendix in place. Then Nance cuts it free. Harrington drops it into a small bin. Nance holds out his hand. Suture. Dorothy hands him a threaded needle. He sews up the incision. Then he looks up and nods. That's it. Nurses, good work. Nurse Dorothy gets some disinfectant on the wound and get him some fluids as soon as he wakes up. I'm going to wash up and take a nap. And with that, he leaves them. Behind her, Dorothy hears Shigeru talking with the guard, who turns and marches off. Shigeru looks over his unconscious friend closely, then glances at Dorothy. Take good care of him. Dorothy nods. When Shigeru finally leaves, Pitcher and Harrington hurry over to Dorothy. Harrington wraps her arms around the two women. We're going to be okay. Pitcher steps back. Are you all right, Dorothy? You don't look so good. I'll be fine. Really. Good work. But as Dorothy turns to find some disinfectant, she realizes how hollow her words sound. She's not fine. She's flushed and sweaty and exhausted. She doesn't know how much longer she can handle this kind of stress. And this new doctor isn't making things any easier. Nurse Dorothy Still descends the staircase of the infirmary at Los Baños, heading toward the basement. She grips the railing, feeling a bit woozy. The only food they regularly get here is rice and sweet potatoes. There's very little protein or vegetables, and it leaves Dorothy feeling wobbly. Dr. Dana Nance keeps a small office in the basement. He glances up when Dorothy arrives. She wants to alert him to a few things before the night shift. There are three patients with erratic heartbeats, but malnutrition might be the real problem. Nance nods. It's January 1944, four months after Nance first arrived, and two years since the Japanese took control of the Philippines. After the appendix incident, Dorothy and Nance have grown to tolerate each other. He's a talented doctor, even if he can be brash. Dorothy is just about finished updating Nance when she hears someone shout her name. Nurse Dorothy, what the hell is going on? Dorothy turns to find her fellow Navy nurse, Helen Gorzelanski, hurrying down the staircase. She looks livid. She's holding something orange and mushy, and she stomps over and drops it in Dorothy's hands. Do you know what this is? It looks like a half-eaten papaya. Where did you get this? On Jimmy Calligan's bedside table. Dorothy remembers him. He was admitted for dysentery last week. Fruits like papayas are the worst possible thing he could eat. A real danger. But Dorothy doesn't understand why Gorsalansky is so angry with her. I have no idea how he got hold of that. One of the orderlies you trained gave it to him. Dorothy cringes. A month ago, Dorothy approached chief nurse Laura Cobb about training men as orderlies to help with routine tasks like feeding patients and emptying bedpans. Dorothy did so because there are just too many prisoners arriving at Los Baños, including women and children. The infirmary is constantly full of patients. The nurses need help. Cobb approved the idea, and Dorothy agreed to teach the first class. Unfortunately, the orderlies have been making too many mistakes. Like last Thursday, when an orderly put iodine on a rash and caused chemical burns. Dorothy looks sheepishly at Gorzelanski. Which orderly? I'll talk to him. That's not the point. This is the fourth incident. Your poor teaching is endangering lives. Dorothy bristles at this. She instructed the orderlies properly. It's not her fault if they forget. Gorzelanski appeals to Dr. Nance, who shrugs. I'm not military, but hospitals also have a chain of command. This is on you, Dorothy. Dorothy fumes. It's the end of her shift anyway, so she storms upstairs without a word. Outside, she sees her boyfriend, Thomas Terrell, approaching. They had plans to meet up after her shift. He greets her with a kiss, but she's already grumbling. As they walk, she unburdens herself about the incident with Gorzelanski, as well as Nance's refusal to take her side. She's angry at those orderlies too. Why can't they get things right? Thomas is a good listener, and as her frustrations pour out, she can feel herself relaxing. Thomas squeezes her hand. You know, my wife had a good trick for getting her way with stubborn co-workers. It's amusing, actually. He launches into a story, but Dorothy barely listens. She drops his hand, and doesn't even pretend to be listening. Thomas never concealed the fact that he was married. In fact, he mentioned his wife the first time he met Dorothy, but that didn't stop him from pursuing her. And Dorothy willfully let herself be pursued. She craved companionship. But every time he mentions his wife, it stabs her. The truth is, deep down, she's afraid she's fallen in love with Thomas. She wishes it weren't true, but there it is. She finally cuts off his story, and thanks him for listening. And when he suggests with a wink that they find somewhere to watch the stars tonight, she says no. She needs her sleep. It's true, but she also knows that even 10 minutes ago, she happily would have said yes. And to her shame, she has no doubt she'll accept his offer another night. Back home, she remembered thinking once that women who took up with married men were so desperate. And now she's doing just that. It's just another way that camp life has changed her. Chief Nurse Laura Cobb shuffles along the grounds of Los Baños. Her knees ache, but she's enjoying a rare afternoon off work. By her side, holding her hand, walks her boyfriend in the camp, a 66-year-old New Zealand Navy captain named Hugh Williams. Cobb knows that the other nurse is gossip and giggle about her and Williams. While Cobb doesn't exactly like the attention, she's willing to tolerate it. It's a harmless distraction in a place where harmless distractions can be vital for morale. And she's certainly not giving up seeing Williams. It's August 1944, and Williams was recently transferred to Los Baños. He's broad-shouldered and handsome, and she loves watching him play with the children here. Williams pretends he was once a pirate on the high seas. He always has the kids roaring with laughter. It's a rare bright spot in Cobb's life. Because frankly, times at Los Baños are getting harder. Prisoners continue to arrive. The camp population is around 2,000 now. The nurses and Dr. Nance can barely keep up. To make matters worse, a new commandant is taking over this week. He's already sent word ahead that their rice and sweet potato rations will be cut by several hundred calories per day. The very thought leaves Cobb fuming on her walk. Who could be so cruel? We barely get enough to eat as is. Williams squeezes her hand. You need to take things easy, dear. Remember your heart. Come on, let's sit. He steers her to a bench. Cobb sighs. Williams is one of the few people she's admitted her medical issues to. Cobb's heart has been beating erratically and fluttering for a while now. She suspects it's cardiomyopathy, a weakening of the heart muscle. That would explain her regular shortness of breath. Her joints are sore as well. She fears she's getting arthritis from poor nutrition. On the bench, Williams massages her shoulders. It soothes her. After a few minutes, he kisses her cheek. I suppose we should head back. I fear the children are expecting another installment of the dead pirate hue tonight. Oh, don't pretend like you don't love it. Williams chuckles. As they're getting up, they hear a camp gate opening a hundred yards distant. Two fences circle the camp, both topped with barbed wire. The outer fence stands eight feet tall and is covered with bamboo, blocking the outside world. When the gate opens, it's a rare chance to glimpse the world beyond the camp. So Cobb and Williams hurry that way. Cobb suspects that more prisoners are arriving. But instead of a transport truck, a single car pulls up. And when Cobb looks closer, she sees that an unusual number of guards have gathered. At least half of the 200 here. They're milling around as if nervous. When someone shouts something in Japanese, they all snap to attention. Cobb grabs Williams' arm. I bet the new commandant is here. Let's size him up. By the time they arrive, several Japanese guards have rushed forward to open the commandant's car door and help him out. When she catches a glimpse, she freezes in her tracks. She's staring at the commandant, his thin mustache, his crooked smile, his stained teeth, and as always, the bottle of sake. He catches Cobb's eye, looking amused. But Cobb isn't laughing. Their new commandant is none other than their old commandant at Santo Tomas, Sadaki Kenishi. Panic surges through Cobb, and her heart flutters in her chest wildly. This is her nightmare. From Audible Originals, this is episode three of our five-part series. World War II nurses turned prisoners of war. A quick note about our scenes. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but everything is based on historical research. If you'd like to learn more about this event, we recommend the books This Is Really War by Emily LeBeau Lucchese, Rescue at Los Baños by Bruce Henderson, and We Band of Angels by Elizabeth M. Norman. Produced by Audible. I'm your host, Cassie De Pecol. Sam Kean wrote this episode. Our editor is Steve Fennessy. Sound design by Rob Shieliga. Engineered by Sergio Mriguez. Original theme music, Scott Velasquez and 2K for Freeze On Sync. Fact-checking by Alyssa Jung Perry. Produced by Emily Frost. Managing producer, Desi Blaylock. Senior producers, Andy Herman and Austin Reckless. Executive producer for Audible, Jenny Lara Beckman. Head of Creative Development at Audible, Kate Navin. Head of Audible Originals, North America, Marshall Louie. Chief Content Officer, Rachel Giazza. Copyright 2026 by Audible Originals LLC. Sound recording copyright 2026 by Audible Originals LLC.