Medicine: Abduction from the Fort

Stanley Amborski took little part in athletics at Chicago’s Bowen High School, but he was in the R.O.T.C. On graduation four years ago, at 17, he had a record of never absent, never tardy. Then he worked steadily (as a proofreader), attended three National Guard summer encampments. Stanley Amborski’s health was no problem until a month ago when, ten days after his marriage, he was inducted into the Army.

At Fort Sheridan, Pvt. Amborski got his shots. Says he: “Those shots lowered my resistance. I was sent off to Fort Leonard Wood not feeling too good.” At the Missouri camp he soon began to make regular appearances at sick call. The medics tested his eyes, ordered glasses for him. Amborski complained of low back pain, but they could find nothing wrong with his back. His appetite fell off. He went back to the dispensary complaining of diarrhea. The corpsmen gave him bismuth cocktails. Stanley wrote to his father: “Get me out of here, Dad. I’m going to fall dead soon.”

Council of War. Into the family car John Amborski loaded his wife, second son John, 18, three daughters and one of young John’s suits. They drove 400-odd miles to Fort Leonard Wood, found Stanley weak and ill. After a midnight council of war in a tourist camp, the Amborskis returned to the post next morning, picked a quiet spot behind some bushes for Stanley to change into civvies, drove him out past the guards and back to Chicago.

Family Doctor Meyer Cohen listened to Stanley’s chest, heard noises suggesting bronchial pneumonia; Stanley’s temperature was 101, his abdomen was rigid, and he had lost 20 lbs. Dr. Cohen insisted that the patient should be in a military hospital, arranged for his admission to Great Lakes Naval Hospital (where, under unification, the Navy cares for Army patients). There was a delay, however, while the family waited for a Chicago Tribune photographer. On admission, Stanley’s temperature was 103. He had virus pneumonia.

The elder Amborski loudly charged that his son had been denied proper medical care at Fort Leonard Wood. He wrote to his Congressman to get the boy a medical discharge. John Amborski was proud of having defied the Army, proclaimed: “I’d do it again to save my boy’s life.” The Army started an investigation.

Forbidden Food. Meanwhile, the Navy doctors treated the AWOL private, got his temperature down to normal by midweek. There was no way for the doctors to tell how long Stanley had been ill with virus pneumonia—whether he had had it before his abduction from the fort, or whether it had developed during the long drive to Chicago.

Stanley Amborski was sure that his father, a printing-plant employee, could fix it up so that he would not have to go back to Fort Leonard Wood. His family visited him en masse, brought him forbidden foods. Stanley asked other visitors for candy. Most of the time he lay back, unsmiling but unworried. Ahead of him was a thorough physical and psychiatric examination.