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Births at During both World War II and the Korean War, there were 1,500 births at the Wakeman General Hospital (WW2) and later the Army General Hospital (Korean War). If you were born there, or know of someone who was, please email the information to me and I will add it to our list. Also please include a story about the experience. |
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| World War II | |
| Risley, Marilyn Ruth |
Risley, Marilyn Ruth
It was a unique place to be born. My mother said the nurses weren't used to babies--many were from WWI and had taken care of soldiers. When I was born, the nurse said "here's one who won't march". My mother became upset because she thought there was something wrong with my feet or legs. Actually the nurse meant I would never be combat. Little did she know how things would change for women in the service. |
| Buchanan, Barry D. |
I was born at Camp Atterbury on MAY 24TH 1943, my father
was overseas at the time.
I also worked there in civil service after I got out of
the Air Force and at Bakalar, my name is listed with the holding force
in the base history page, I was there until they closed the base.
I was on the fire department.
Barry D. Buchanan
Shelbyville In
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| Cohn, David |
08/02/1943 Maryland
David
Cohn Camp Atterbury and I go back a long ways -- a lifetime, in fact.
During World War II, my pregnant
mother, Mary Cohn, was living in Franklin with her parents, E.O. and
Mamie Lagle. They had no car, so when my time came, family friends
drove her the 10 miles or so to Camp Atterbury's new hospital, where
an O.B. ward had just opened. After a long labor during a 90-degree
day in un-air-conditioned barracks (which my mother never fails to
mention), I was born on Aug. 2, 1943. I weighed 7 pounds, 12 ounces.
My father, Frank Cohn, was getting
ready to go to war. A surgeon with the 101st Airborne Division, he was
training in North Carolina. She had followed him around from post to
post in the South for about a year, but when his duties kept them
apart more and more and she reached her last trimester, she went back
to Franklin. When Dad got word of my birth, he hopped a ride on an
Army transport plane and few back to see his little family at
Atterbury. He walked into a room ful of flowers, my mother said, but
could stay for only a couple of days. He would not see us again for
almost two years.
After a 10-day hospital stay, during
which time I put on 4 ounces, my mother and I were driven home to 48
W. Wayne St. by another family friend. Mom saved the instruction card
the hospital had given her. I was to be fed a formula consisting of
water, Karo (Blue) syrup and irradiated Carnation milk. In his letters
from overseas, Dad also prescribed regular doses of cod liver oil, but
I think she discreetly ignored that.
Near the end of the war, Dad was
wounded in a bombing in Germany and hospitalized in Paris. It took him
a month to recover from all wounds but one: his left eardrum had been
blown out by the concussions. He was sent home and told to report to
Wakeman Hospital for further treatment.
After a happy reunion in Franklin, Dad
returned to the hospital where his son had been born. An Army doctor
from Detroit examined the eardrum and tried various treatments in
vain. Finally, he proposed an experiment that he said he recommended
only because his patient was also a doctor. He would insert a wad of
soft, thin cigarette paper into the ear in hopes that gentle
irritation would encourage the drum to regrow. The patient agreed, but
the treatment turned out to be anything but gentle. Dad would come
home from the hospital in excruciating pain, my mother said. All he
could do was lie down, but he could not sleep. Then the paper would
fall out, and he'd had to repeat the process again the next day. This
went on for many agonizing weeks that summer, but gradually the
experiment worked. His eardrum grew back, and his hearing was
partially restored.
Twenty years later, in 1965, I too
returned to Camp Atterbury on assignment. Fresh out of Indiana
University, I was a reporter for the Franklin Daily Journal,
and my beat included the new and controversial Job Corps Center. One
of my first jobs was to cover a meeting about law enforcement and
discipline problems at the center. The meeting, in the corps
headquarters building, was closed to the public, so I waited outside
in a hall. When the meeting broke up, I interviewed participants and
took their pictures.
Afterwards, I walked back to my car
with my notebook in hand and camera dangling from my neck. Some Job
Corps members spotted me as a newsman, surrounded me, and asked to
have their picture taken. They were a little rowdy, and I was
uncomfortable, so I decided the best thing to do was comply with their
request and get out quickly. I snapped a picture, then turned for my
car. But before I could move, I felt a hand grip my elbow from behind.
"Come with me," an
official-sounding voice said. The Job Corpsmen scattered.
Three men in dark suits led me back
into the headquarters building, where an official gave me a lecture on
photographing a government installation. I asked if he wanted my film.
He declined. By then, I think, he was feeling embarrassed by their
overreaction. I left.
Naturally, the first thing the paper
did was print that silly photo along with a first-person account of my
detention at the same place where I had been born. I heard later that
the official apologized, and I continued to cover the Job Corps.
That summer, my draft notice and
enlistment in the Army signaled my departure from Indiana. I now live
in Maryland, but my wife, children and I have returned every now and
then to visit family. One year, my parents proudly took us to some of
the newly opened fishing spots in Camp Atterbury. Another year, my
daughter and I canoed down the east side of the camp on Sugar Creek
and the Big Blue River. I have visited the P.O.W. chapel and prayed
that it be spared from further vandalism.
So, I have seen Camp Atterbury in its
many roles, from wartime to peacetime, and I am impressed at how it
has managed to adapt and still count as a place important to the
nation and the state, as well as to the counties whose land it
occupies. And I'm certainly glad to see that people are taking the
trouble to tell Camp Atterbury's many stories.
David F. Cohn
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| Snyder, Nikki Ladonna Coombs | Dear Jim, I understand that you are looking for people who were born at Camp Atterbury, well I was one. My name is Nikki Ladonna Coombs Snyder. I am the child of Donald Wayne Coombs & Anna Pauline Barker. I was born at the camp because my father was in the Navy and served on the aircraft carrier, the Yorktown. I was born Oct. 25,1943. My grandmother told me when we left the hospital they somehow got turned around and ended up in the area where the Italian prisoners were housed . She said the prisoners were very excited at getting to see a bambino. I was home a couple of weeks ago and went to see the chapel they built - really nice. |
| Wirth, Earl Stephen |
My name is Earl Stephen (Steve) Wirth, and
I was born at Camp Atterbury on October 9th, 1945. My father, 1st
Lieutenant Earl W. Wirth, was stationed there at the time. I believe he
was recovering from an injury - he was run over by a truck - and later
was permanent party. My birth certificate says only that I was born in
Johnson County and is signed by R.C. Wilson, M.D. Mom swears I was born
in the army hospital, and she ought to know.
Dad died Oct 20, 2003, at age 80 of
Alzheimer's. Dad was discharged in 1946 and took the family back home
to Cincinnati. My wife and I have just recently moved to Dearborn
County, Indiana, and I am planning to visit Camp Atterbury this summer.
I am also an Army veteran, having served in Viet Nam from October, 1966
to December, 1967. (Made it home in time for Christmas.)
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| Korean War | |
| Austin, Terry Richard |
First Baby !! Outstanding among the firsts of re-activated Camp Atterbury was the birth of the first baby in the U. S. Army Hospital. Just about the time lasts week’s Camp Crier was going to press, Terry Richard Austin, son of Captain and Mrs. Frank B. Austin, saw the waning light of day. The seven pound, red haired boy and his mother are well and happy. Late bulletins indicate that Captain Austin, Post Signal Officer, will recover also. This is the second child for the Austins, whose daughter Sandra Lee is two and a half years old. 10/06/1950 |
| Wright, Cynthia | My name is Cynthia Wright and I was born at Camp Atterbury in 1951. My father John Wright Jr. was in the hospital there at the time of my birth. My mothers name is Betty L. Ennis (Wright) Both lived in Edinburgh. I lived in Edinburgh with my grandfather Louis and Geneva Stout. |
| McQueen, Allen D. | born
06/01/1951. Father: Frank McQueen |
| Manning, Dwight Kelvin | the Cardinal Camp Atterbury, Indiana 07/11/1952 1,000 Baby Born July 5th, 1952 Dwight Kelvin Manning. Mrs. Manning gave birth to the 7 lb. 13 oz. boy at 0418 hours on July 5th. The father is 1st Lt. Ralph K. Manning and is stationed at Fort Benjamin Harrison. Baby Manning is the 3rd of three sons. |
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William K
Arthur, Jr. |
January 24th
1953 was bitterly cold and the roads surrounding Camp Atterbury
were covered with ice. My mother had been driven from Mars Hill (about
30 miles) by her friends earlier in the evening, but had been sent home
as she was not ready for delivery. They were wrong. A second trip was
made later that night and I was delivered in the early morning hours of
January 25th.
William K Arthur, Jr., son of SNPN William K Arthur, USNR and Jean C. Arthur, was born. My mother tells me that the labor room was a large ward and she was the only person in it. She felt especially alone as my father was stationed at Norfolk VA. After I was born I was put in a bassinet next to her bed in another empty ward, they called it “rooming in”. The only thing that was not covered was my mother’s meals, so I cost seven dollars. A few winters later we were living in a trailer as my father attended Purdue on the GI bill. One night the fuel oil ran out and his shoes were frozen to the floor. He said “That’s it!” and a week later we were moving to California. In the early seventies my draft board took a look at my Camp Atterbury birth certificate and told me that my birthplace no longer existed. I would have to choose a new one, so I chose Franklin. Otherwise my Camp Atterbury birth certificate worked just fine for me until the late eighties. The passport office said that it was no longer valid because it didn’t come from the county recorder. I called the Johnson County Health Department to see if I could order one over the phone, but the ladies laughed and said “Maybe that’s how you do it in California, but we’re just a small county and don’t take credit cards” I work in the airline industry and it seems that they’re always doing more background checks. So now my wonderful, ornate birth certificate (with the picture of the hospital) sits in a file cabinet, while the plain little form from the Health Department is being used. |
| Carson, Mike | Bartholomew County, Indiana. Son of James and Norma Carson. |
| Talsma, Linda Joanne | 14 July 1953 - born to MSgt and Mrs. Charles J. Talsma. |
| Tucker, John H.
and Michael L. |
Twins - John H Tucker (5# 4oz) Michael L Tucker (5# 6oz) 09/23/1953 at 8:09 pm. Dad was Capt. Alfred N. Tucker. We lived at 60 Martin Place, Franklin, IN. The day we were born we won free diaper service for a year, all the baby food we could eat, and a washer and dryer! First and last thing we ever won! The contest was twins born on that day! |
| Hogan, Deirde Joyce | My name is Deirdre Guynn. My birth name was Deirdre Joyce Hogan. Born January 8, 1954 at 10:30 in the morning. Parents Mason and Doris Hogan. My mother's maiden name was Miller |
| Grimsey, James | I was born at Wakeman Hospital on January 10, 1954. My father was in the Army. I now live in Tacoma Washington. |
| Sheldon, Barbara J. |
02/14/1954 to Leonard and Nancy J. Sheldon. Father was in 31st Infantry Division. One of the last born at the hospital before it closed. |
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© 2007 James D. West - Indiana Military Org
All Rights Reserved Page Last Revised 11/20/2009 |
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