Portal de Periódicos da CAPES

A Veterans Day Salute: Honoring Veterans as They Age

2017; Wiley; Volume: 65; Issue: 11 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1111/jgs.14981

1532-5415

Mark A. Supiano,

Education and Military Integration

“Did you know your patient was a B-17 pilot?” Before hearing this question from the nurse as I was about to enter his room, the only things I knew about Dr. Arval Streadbeck were two extremely high numbers—his chronological age of 100 and his systolic blood pressure of 217 mmHg. As an attending geriatrician on the medical service of the George E. Wahlen Veterans Affairs Medical Center (VAMC), the first number got my attention. All week I had been gently goading the team of residents and medical students to admit an octogenarian so that I would be able to teach them something about geriatrics. This centenarian admission raised the median age of our patients, most of whom were veterans of the conflicts in Korea and Vietnam. The second number had gotten the attention of the emergency department (ED) and prompted his admission—ostensibly for a hypertensive emergency. My geriatric objectives as I entered the room were, first, to not overtreat his chronically labile hypertension and, second, to discharge him from the hospital as soon as possible before any iatrogenic mishaps developed. Moreover, I wanted to learn more about this World War II (WWII) veteran's experiences as a B-17 pilot. I have had the honor of caring for veterans since I first walked onto the William Middleton VAMC wards as a third-year medical student. I was taught then, and now teach, that it is vitally important not only to obtain the military service history of veterans, but also to listen to their stories. Over the years, I have been privileged to meet, care for, and listen to World War I veterans, Pearl Harbor survivors, and survivors of the Bataan death march. I knew this was my window of opportunity to hear Major Streadbeck's story (Figure 1). He had had a rough night. After waiting in the ED for a telemetry bed to become available and enduring frequent blood pressure monitoring, he was sound asleep when we were making rounds that morning. We opted to return to his room after we finished seeing the other new admissions. By then he was awake, had eaten breakfast, and was ready to talk with us. He began by telling us he was a Salt Lake City native, one of five children. He graduated from the University of Utah—the first in his family to receive a college degree—and ultimately obtained his PhD in linguistics from Stanford University. He married just as the war was beginning and raised five children of his own. He became a professor of German and linguistics at the University of Utah, retiring after 40 years as a faculty member. Since his wife's death several years earlier, he had been living by himself in an assisted living setting. “So, where were you stationed during the war?” I asked. As the son of a WWII B-24 bombardier, Lt. Colonel Boyden Supiano (Figure 2), I knew some WWII Air Force history. I grew up hearing my father and his brother-in-law, a B-17 pilot, debate which was the superior airplane. I assumed that, like my Uncle Bob, Dr. Streadbeck had been based in England, but he told us that his Second Bomb Group had been based in North Africa, from where he piloted his crew safely through 50 bombing missions. I was intrigued to learn he had been stationed in North Africa. I had just visited the WWII museum in New Orleans and had taken a photograph of a map illustrating air missions that originated from there. One of these, and the reason I had taken the picture, was the Ploesti mission, also known as Operation Tidal Wave. Opening my telephone to show Dr. Streadbeck my photograph, I asked, “Do you know anything about the Ploesti mission?” I was riveted by his response. “Do I know anything about Ploesti? I was there.” The extremely ill-conceived mission was designed to target the oil refineries surrounding Ploesti, Romania, and shut off the supply of fuel to Hitler's forces. On the morning of what later became known as “Black Sunday,” August 1, 1943, 178 B-24s departed from Benghazi, Libya. My father was the bombardier in one of them. The mission was doomed from its outset. A daring plan to conduct a low-level surprise attack was met with unanticipated resistance. The anti-aircraft defenses surrounding the oil fields had been reinforced for just such an approach—the B-24s were sitting ducks. Only 88 planes returned to Benghazi, of which 55 sustained heavy damages; 440 of the 1,751 aircrew who took off that morning died, and another 220 were captured or reported missing. The mission was considered a failure. A damage report 1 month later cited there was “no curtailment of overall product output” from the oil fields. My father's plane was one of the ones that barely made it back. He received shrapnel wounds to his legs, for which he was awarded the Purple Heart. When he died in 1996, he was buried at Arlington National Cemetery with full military honors. Now, 20 years after my father's funeral, I was speaking with someone who had witnessed his plane land after the mission that had such a profound effect on his life. My family's annual commemoration of the August 1 Ploesti anniversary was suddenly brought into a new, living reality. Of the 16 million U.S. servicemen and women who served during WWII, only 855,000 are alive today, and they are dying at a rate of 492 per day. Dr. Streadbeck did not live to celebrate his 101st birthday. He died 3 months after this hospital admission. I am so grateful to have heard his story, which deepened my understanding of my father's. As the number of WWII veterans rapidly diminishes, the VA increasingly cares for new generations of veterans. We owe these younger veterans the same commitment—to listen to their stories and to care for and honor these men and women as they age. Informed consent was obtained from the families of both individuals. The author wishes to thank Dr. Streadbeck's family for their permission to cite his name and for providing his photograph. Conflict of Interest: Dr. Supiano is a member of the American Geriatrics Society Board of Directors. Author Contributions: Dr. Supiano is solely responsible for preparing this contribution. Sponsor's Role: Not applicable.