Profiles of American Heroes: Interview with Justice Eileen Moore

By Eileen Moore

Interview by Judge James Brandlin Los Angeles Superior Court (JB)

JB: Please tell me a little bit about your background in the medical field and how you were called into service in Vietnam?

I served as a combat nurse at the 85th Evacuation Hospital in Quinhon, South Vietnam in 1966. Prior to that, I had only a few months experience practicing as a Registered Nurse in Philadelphia, PA.

JB: Obviously, you witnessed first-hand the ravages of war and the valiant selfless sacrifices of our military personnel. How were you able to deal with the tragedies you saw on a regular basis and still remain upbeat and focused on your duties?

Sometimes at night, I was so scared I cried myself to sleep under a mosquito net on my cot in the nurses' quarters. Sounds of mortar shells and rats tapping and running in the walls and ceilings could always be heard. But I was always well aware that our boys were out there without the comforts of a net or a cot. They had shells aimed straight at them and animals running directly over them. But the big difference was that, since they were supposed to be tough, they didn't have the luxury of crying like a girl.

There is no doubt in my mind that nurses represented much more than medical providers to our soldiers. We were sort of a connection with America, with home. When a soldier would open his eyes to find himself in an evacuation hospital staring at a nurse, he did not know where he was, but did know that wherever he was, it must be safe because an American girl was standing next to him. Often a soldier's eyes filled with tears and his hand would reach up to my cheek just to feel something soft.

I never asked a soldier what happened or what he did or went through because I thought those were matters between himself and his soul. But I know it was horrible. Some of those who had to be told they lost an arm, leg or eye cried out with relief:

"Charley can't get me now." I was never able to come to grips with the tension of my oath to heal people and my knowledge that if I did heal them, they would be sent back to combat and perhaps be mortally wounded the next time. A large part of our patient population had punji stick wounds. The enemy would sharpen sticks and dip them in human feces, known to cause the worst type of infections, and bury them in the ground. A buried punji stick would pop up with such force, it dug deeply into the soldier's calf as he walked over it. More than once, one of our boys would ask if I would either dilute or "forget" the penicillin injection so the infection would fester enough to require evacuation to the Philippines. Although many decades have passed, I am not sure the tragedies of the war or the role of the nurse in Vietnam have ended. Toward the end of the 1990s, I was asked by the local chapter of Vietnam Veterans of America to speak at the Richard Nixon Library. Three rows of the audience were taken by men still wearing their fatigues and looking bedraggled. With one glance at them, I thought to myself, "untreated PTSD, self-medicated, homeless." After I spoke, they surrounded me. Several shook my hand, but most only touched my arm. One just rubbed the top of my hand with his finger over and over again. It's natural for all of us, when we look back, to remember something positive, the happy and good times. There was nothing happy or good about the Vietnam War. I think they saw me as a representative of their one positive memory about America during the war, its nurses.

JB: What was your most memorable experience while serving in the military?

I don't know which is the most memorable because there are so many, but I will tell you one. It is interesting because of what was going on at home at the time. The Women's Liberation Movement was starting and women were questioning whether or not there was really a difference between men and women, or whether differences were perceived merely because society imposed gender roles for all of us to assume. My main concerns at the time centered around taking care of my patients. I worried constantly about whether or not I was doing a good enough job.

One time I had to get myself to the Second Field Hospital in Saigon, which is 200 miles south of Quinhon. There was no airport in Quinhon. At the dirt air strip used as a runway, G.I.'s had been lined up for up to three days to try to fly out. As soon as crew members heard a nurse was looking for a ride, I had to turn down offers. But no one was going directly to Saigon. The ride I took, on an Air Force Caribou, had to make two quick stops north of Quinhon with a final destination in the resort town of Vung Tao, south of Saigon. Between the first and second stop to deliver helicopter parts up north, we were flying low and flew over some of our Huey helicopters shooting down into the jungle. Shots were coming back up, and we quickly heard and felt the first ping. Simultaneously all five crew members tore off their own bullet proof vests. "No nurse is going to get hurt on my watch," the pilot mumbled. They wrapped me from head to toe.

Later at UCI, I may have been the only woman on campus who wore both lipstick and a bra. I didn't get caught up with who opened the door or the other little "issues" common at the time. I knew men and women were different in that women tend to have an innate need to nurture and men have a need to protect. I know the idea is outdated, but so be it.

JB: What caused you to eventually change your career path from medicine to law?

While I may have had doubts about some of the tenets of the Women's Liberation Movement, I embraced it nonetheless. I read Betty Friedan's book "The Feminine Mystique" and found myself wondering if it might be possible that I could go to college. Once back in the States, I enrolled at the University of California Irvine. The university had so many other women kicking down its door, it offered a class for women returning to school. They had representatives from all sorts of businesses, industries, academia as well as psychologists interview us. At the end, a panel made recommendations about which career path we might take. They told me I should consider the law. I took their advice.

JB: What recommendations do you have for someone interested in following your career path?

There were not that many choices available to young women when I graduated from high school. Nowadays the sky's the limit. My advice is to go right to college and skip the rest.

JB: How do you feel that your medical experience and military service has influenced you as a jurist?

Probably in lots of ways. I remember one soldier who took a blow to the face from a rifle butt and had to be evacuated from the jungle because his tooth was knocked loose and he was in horrible pain and could not eat. Coincidentally I wrote a dissent several years ago in which I said that a victim suffered serious bodily injury as a result of a similar injury, an opinion not shared by my colleagues.

In less concrete ways, though, I imagine my present notion that one attribute of a person does not necessarily define the whole person was largely formed in Vietnam. That notion is probably central to how I have judged witnesses over the years. In Vietnam, the very same soldier who might pose a threat to me might very well be the same one who would lay down his life for me. Let me explain. I learned immediately that having 500 American women in the same location as hundreds of thou-sands of red blooded American men was not always safe. We arrived in Saigon during the evening. Another nurse and I were taken to the BOQ by the chief nurse in Vietnam. A third nurse was already in the room, or, in Army parlance, the Transient Nurses Quarters. Colonel Marian Tierney left a Vietnamese guard at our door after hearing wolf whistles and invitations coming from the bar area of the compound. Before the night was over, a Major and a Captain would break through a boarded up window to our room, use filthy language and demand to have their way. Since there was no telephone in the room, I had to climb out another window to bring an armed guard to our rescue. A nurse had to be very careful to protect herself from American soldiers, but, at the same time, she could always be confident they would protect her from the enemy.

JB: Thank you, Justice Moore for your selfless contributions to our country as a military veteran and a career jurist.