Eula Awbrey Sforsa, President of the National Association of Catholic Nurses, USA (NACN-USA) from 1993 to 1996, served as a registered nurse during World War II in the USA, England, and France.

Eula was born on February 21, 1920, in Fordsville, Kentucky on a snowy morning. She grew up in Owensboro, Kentucky, in poverty. Her father made an attempt at farming. Eventually after multiple absences from the family home, Eula’s mother did not allow him back in the home. He left when Eula was five years old. Her mother struggled to provide for the family. Eula’s stepsister Ora Belle and her husband, Killian, insisted that Eula, her mother, and her one-year-old sister come to live with them. They lived on Killian’s tobacco farm where they all worked together.

Eventually Eula would obtain a BA in Psychology and an MS in Community Mental Health. She married her 2^nd Lieutenant Arthur Burton Sforza and together they were blessed with four beautiful daughters and thirteen grandchildren. Her story continues….

Eula started school at age 7 walking two miles to school each day. She and her family also walked five miles to Church in Cloverport, Kentucky for the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass on Sundays. It was at the Catholic Church in Cloverport that Eula was baptized and received her 1^st Holy Communion.

High School years were spent in Rockport, though still living in poverty, their third home had electric lights and a bathroom with a real tub — as opposed to a metal basin in which she had previously bathed. Eula was a voracious reader and was determined to read every book in the local library. She played the oboe in the school orchestra — the instrument loaned to her by the school since she could not afford one and she took piano lessons in exchange for doing housework for the teacher. During her sophomore year one day, she came home from school for lunch and saw her father for the last time. He came to visit her sister who was in bed with the measles, a common childhood illness at the time. The visit only lasted 15 minutes and then he was gone.

In 1938, Eula graduated from high school with a grade point average of 99%. She could not afford the education to become a teacher, which she really wanted to do. She could have had a music scholarship to the University of Chicago since they were looking for oboe players, but she did not want to live alone in a big city like Chicago. Her family doctor, Dr. Buxton, encouraged her to investigate nursing. He took her to St. Mary’s Hospital in Evansville, Indiana to talk to the sister about enrolling in September. She enrolled that day. Dr. Buxton helped her obtain a load for $225 from a saving and loan to pay for her books and uniforms. This would have to be paid back when she completed the schooling. For the next 3 years Eula shared a small dormitory room above part of the hospital with another nursing student. The room contained two small beds, nightstands, and a small closet. The bathrooms were down the hallway. 

During her first year she learned how to make beds, clean patient rooms, and give baths along with many other basic nursing skills. The first patient to whom she gave a bath died soon after which stressed Eula until her instructed assured her that the woman had died of advanced syphilis. Nursing school was structured with morning classes and nursing duties for some portion of the day. The second year the nursing students were placed in charge of the ward at night caring for forty patients with no nursing assistant and very few orderlies. They took call for the operating room, delivery room, and assisted with autopsies. Due to limited pediatric services, Eula was sent to Milwaukee Children’s hospital in the winter of 1940-41 for pediatric nursing training.

She remembers the day the war with Japan began (December 7, 1941). She had graduated from St. Mary’s hospital school of nursing on September 13 and was working the 3:30-11 pm shift for $85/month plus dinner. She rented a room in a house two block from the hospital where two other nurses were renting from a kindly woman. As soon as Eula graduated from nurses training, she joined the American Red Cross Nursing Association and received material about nurses in the military and how to join. Through the Red Cross, she volunteered and was sent to Fort Knox, Kentucky for a physical exam and the necessary paperwork to join the Army. Upon returning to St. Mary’s, her boss and Sr. Teresa, the head of St. Mary’s tried to dissuade her. Eula in her memories writes, “I have always felt that this is ‘my land—my native land,’ and it is my right and privilege (and the right and privilege of every American) to protect and defend it.” After 3 years she resigned from St. Mary’s and reported to Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana on May 1, 1942. Eula would be assigned to the 12^th Field Hospital in Europe.

At Fort Benjamin Harrison, Eula grew from a naïve country girl into a woman who knew proper military conduct. Eula entered as a second lieutenant; the pay was $70/month. She worked initially in the post hospital until February 26, 1943, when she, along with sixteen other nurses, were sent to Camp Bowie, Texas to staff a field hospital. There the nurses learned how to pitch pup tents, set up hospital tents, and familiarized themselves with the equipment. They hiked in oversized men’s shoes since the Army did not have women’s shoes for issue. They learned how to dig foxholes and use a four-holer. There was no roof on the outdoor toilet making it a little uncomfortable to use when it was raining.

At the time Eula entered the Army, the Army did not accept married nurses. All of the medical officers were married with wives and families back home. Many of the enlisted men had left families to answer the call of service. Rarely, a single RN might be accepted with a child 14 years or older if she could prove that her child would be absolutely cared for in her absence. That exception, however, was rare.

Eula and the other nurses were sent to the deserts of California for simulated training, and this is where Eula met Arthur Sforza. He was an artillery officer assigned to the 183^rd Field Artillery. Their Field Hospital subsequently moved to Midhurst, England in Sussex from which they could hear German planes enroute to rain devastation on London. They initially established their hospital in a temporary building. On March 8, 1944, they opened a tent station hospital to care for former combat and service troops. Water was a concern and needed to be conserved. Fuel was scarce and used sparingly. The hospital was set up in the form of a cross allowing the nurse at the center to monitor all four wings instead of requiring one nurse per wing. In May 1944, they moved to Weymouth in Dorset, England. At Weymouth, they set up twelve wards with operating room in a central location. The hospital was augmented by surgical teams composed to nine officers, three nurses, and six enlisted men. They established blood banks and had limited amounts of penicillin. There was an underground Air Raid shelter there. Invariably the air raid sirens went off when Eula was showering, and she ended up  inside the shelter in long underwear with a gas mask. They prepared to receive casualties and did several surgeries.

On D-Day, June 7, 1944, they were ready to receive the casualties from the waters of The Channel and any of the troops who might be sent back from the beachhead on the coast of France. In her memoires she stated, “It was really an awesome sight to see our planes overhead going into France and know that The Channel was filled with our naval vessels carrying our troops—many of them to die on the beaches before we could establish a beachhead.” The medical team, who had trained in Texas and the desserts of California really worked well together as they cared for casualties. 

In preparation for their move into France, the hospital in Weymouth was closed and the unit moved to Southampton. The nurses were housed with the 46^th Field Hospital and inadvertently left off the manifest. Instead, they followed boarding the naval LCI (Landing Craft Infantry) to cross onto Omaha beach on June 27, 1944. Eula writes, “Crossing The Channel was yet another bad experience for me, because once again I was seasick and scared.” We did not know if we would be blown out of the water and never reach the other side. We kept our full backpack beside us at all times. We always knew where the life preservers were. On deck we had to wear our raincoats because of the spray from the boat. Landing crafts are not big ships. They travel close to the water, and they move extremely fast. When the ship neared the shore, we had to transfer to a smaller boat to get closer to the beach where we eventually had to step into the water because boats could not put us directly on dry land. They saw dead soldiers and abandoned equipment as they were guided along a narrow path to avoid landmines that had yet to be cleared. During their short stay with another hospital unit, the Germans flew over and strafed the hospital disregarding the big Red Cross. There was an adjacent holding area for the bodies of soldiers who were killed on the beach. Many of the bags only contained body parts. Eula, along with another nurse searched through the body bags looking at each of the ID tags to see if her colleague’s brother, who had come in on D-Day, was among the dead. They later found that her friend’s brother had been taken prisoner on D-Day and spent the rest of the war in a prison camp.

They received orders to move to Cherbourg and take over the French naval hospital there. As they traveled in field ambulances without windows, they could smell gun powder and hear and feel percussion shells going off. They had to cross the Carentan bridge and later learned that it was blown up as their last vehicle crossed. Eula reported that she prayed many rosaries that night.

The Germans had occupied the hospital and had retreated just prior to their arrival leaving the wounded behind. The hospital was filthy. A Nazi SS officer without his right arm stood on the hospital steps watching their arrival. Presumably, he was left to be in charge of the wounded. Eula described him as arrogant and handsome, who even in defeat acted superior. She thought of him as one who would be happy to help Hitler promote the super race.

The Engineers had to clear the hospital before they could occupy it and tend to the wounded. Bombs were found behind pictures, in flowerpots, and in other places of concealment. They found that the operating suite was underground and there were dirty instruments everywhere, dirty linens were thrown about, and arms and legs even filled the trash cans. It took a great deal of work to clean up the hospital. In the meanwhile, shells were being sent over the city from two small islands off the coast. They called these screaming mee-mees because they emitted a screaming sound as they passed overhead. Though the Germans knew they were surrounded, they would fight to the last shell. 

From Cherbourg, the hospital broke into three platoons. Eula’s 2^nd platoon was sent to an open field near Valognes, France where they set up the tent hospital, surgeries were performed using battery powered equipment.

Four days after Paris was liberated, they went via convoy to La Bourge airfield in Paris. There they were able to take VERY cold showers. They were given permission to see Paris, but they did so in full battle dress —helmet, green fatigues, and high shoes and leggings. They were well received by the native Parisians. However, they were admonished by their Chief Nurse who told them they were not to be on the streets unless they were in full dress uniforms. Their dress uniforms had been rolled up in their bedrolls since they left England and there was no way to press them. They would have looked much worse.

After their R & R in Paris, the 12^th Field Hospital moved to Belgium. They served in various locations: near Cerfontaine, and near Namur, Huy, Hollogne-aux-Pierres. Christmas 1944 was spent in Hollogne. Bombs were commonplace and several of the hospital staff to include the Chief Nurse and Commanding Officer, were wounded by flying glass.

In February 1945, the hospital moved to Achen, Germany and occupied the Aachen Clinic which was in a sad state. Some of the areas were flooded and much of the equipment was ruined. There was no electricity or running water. However, it was much cleaner than the French Naval Hospital. Severe casualties came in keeping the operating room busy. Eula turned twenty-five years old in Aachen, Germany.

She heard of President Roosevelt’s death on April 12, 1945, while listening to the news on a small radio. She very much appreciated his “New Deal” policy that helped so many people through the depression in the United States. She was sad that he did not see the end of World War II.

At one point during their overseas service, they served as a prisoner-of-war hospital. The compound was fenced and their enlisted alternated between hospital duty and guard. They triaged three thousand Germans through this hospital. She writes, “The condition of most patients was very poor. They were filthy dirty, scantily clothed, and some had no shoes— only rags around their feet. Many had gangrene from frostbite and needed amputations. They were covered with lice, many had syphilis chancres, some had pneumonia, and all had some degree of malnutrition. Most of them had diarrhea caused from prolonged lack of food.” Embedded in her memory was a beautiful little girl who was disemboweled while picking up a hand grenade that exploded. All they could do for her was apply saline dressings over the wound, start an IV, and evacuate her to another hospital where they might be able to save her.

Throughout the war she continued to receive visits from Art and after the Battle of the Bulge, they began planning their wedding. The hospital now moved further into Germany through Maastricht, Holland towards a field near Hildesheim, Germahy, about ninety miles from Berlin. Their mission was to treat patients and evacuate them by ambulance or plane to France and England. Eula remembers treating a Marquise from Versailles, France who had been severely tortured by the Germans to extract information. She had helped U.S. airmen who shot down over France near Versailles. The Germans had submerged her in tubs of water and starved her feeding her only grass soup. She was covered in bedsore and emaciated. Her limbs were drawn up in the fetal position. The Marquise could only tolerate small amounts of food. Eula hoped she would survive after they evacuated her. After they treated their last patient and evacuated them, the second platoon was assigned to care for a three-thousand bed hospital in Brandt to triage German patients (prisoners).

With Arthur’s family in New York and Eula’s family in southern Indiana — 500 miles apart, they decided to get married in Belgium. Eula wanted to have a white wedding dress but did not know where to get one. Searching for used parachute material, she asked the supply sergeant if he had a torn used parachute. He instead gave her a new one that belonged to the commanding officer who had never opened it and would never miss it. A dressmaker in Limbourg, a small town near Liege, made a beautiful dress. They were married in a convent chapel in Verviers, Belgium by Father Bradley on June 15, 1945. They spent their first night in a hotel in Brussels, Belgium. Art had arranged a flight on a C54 going to London where they spent a couple of days. After a few days in London, they return to their respective units. Art returned to Germany  to help clean up some of the towns and help find homes for displaced people. Eula (Mrs. Sforsa) returned to the 12^th Field Hospital which had moved to an air strip, A-62, three miles north of Reims, France.

By the end of July 1945, Eula knew she was with child. After hostilities were over in Europe, she wondered if they would be transferred to the South Pacific. Instead in August 1945 Eula, with 20-30 other Army personnel, mostly nurses, boarded a C-47 enroute to Mitchell Airfield, New York. With one-4 hours stop in the Azores, the flight to the United States took twenty-four and a half hours. Eula was thrilled to look out the window of the airplane and see the brilliant lights twinkling below, “No more blackouts! No more war! I was home!” She concluded in her memoires.

As mentioned before, Eula and Art raised four beautiful daughters and were blessed with thirteen grandchildren. At the age of seventy-three, Eula Sforza joined Marylee Meehan (Vice President of NACN-USA from Massachusetts), and Mary Pellizzari (NACN-USA Secretary/Treasurer from Illinois) and served as the President of the re-organized National Association of Catholic Nurses, USA, under the spiritual direction of Bishop Joseph L. Imesch. She served as the president from 1993-1996 and during her tenure twenty nurses attended the XV International Catholic Committee of Catholic Nurses and Medico-Social Assistants (CICIAMS) World Congress in Belgium. At that time, NACN-USA became a full voting member of CICIAMS, rendering all member of NACN-USA members of CICIAMS. Under her leadership, NACN-USA held its 1^st Conference in Tucson, Arizona in 1995. Additional regional and national conferences were held for networking, education in the Catholic medical ethic, and spiritual growth. Members also received emails, website, and newsletter. Though Eula’s leadership, Catholic Nurses were united across the United States.

Three years after her tenure as President of the NACN-USA ended, Eula Sforza died on March 30, 1999. Her husband, the love of her life, had died in 1975. Her daughters had encouraged her to date, but she never wanted to. “I’m a one-man woman,” she would say, and she always wore her wedding ring, said their daughter Christine Kefer.

The NACN-USA Nursing Scholarship is named for Mrs. Eula Awbrey Sforza, whose family continues to donate generously for the education of nurses. Dear Eula, thank you for your service, thank you for all you have done, please intercede for our success in bringing Catholic Nurses, Ethics and Truth to healthcare.

Source: The above excerpts are from Eula Awbrey Sforza. A Nurse Remembers. Batavia, IL: Parkway Press, Inc., 1991.