the medical corps had an effective weapon against the disease: Atabrine.
Atabrine was a synthetic alternative to quinine, which had been used for hundreds of years to treat malaria. Atabrine was developed by German researchers Walter Kikuth, Hans Mauss, and others in the early 1930s after Germany found itself without a supply of quinine during World War I. Early in World War II, the Japanese seized control of the only major source of quinine, the cinchona plantations in Java, Indonesia. Atabrine became the Allies’ only widely available antimalarial drug.
Some soldiers who began taking it after reporting aboard ships bound for the Pacific theater suffered nausea and vomiting, so they stopped their doses. They may have associated seasickness with Atabrine. Once they joined their units in the Pacific, they found many officers who considered disease control a distraction to “killing Japs.” Enforcement of the daily dose of Atabrine was lax at best. Some soldiers also considered hospitalization for malaria preferable to combat duty.
Although effective, the small yellow tablets tasted extremely bitter. Atabrine also gave the skin a sickly, pale tint. Complaints grew so rampant that some corpsmen and medics stationed themselves at the head of mess hall lines to make sure everyone took his Atabrine every day.
Once his corpsman training was complete, Duffee and hundreds of others reported to downtown San Diego’s Navy Pier 11A and boarded the Bloemfontein , a Dutch transport bound for the Pacific.
When Duffee arrived in New Caledonia, the young corpsman began treating exhausted and mangled Marines who had been shipped off Guadalcanal. The island assault in late 1942 was one of the war’s first prolonged battles of attrition in which disease was far more debilitating than the Japanese. Nearly two thirds of the Marines suffered from malaria, while 25 percent had been wounded by the enemy. In November, there were 1,800 cases of malaria (including recurrences) per 1,000 Marines. New Caledonia had been selected for recuperation in part because the anopheline mosquito that spread malaria wasn’t found there.
The second year of World War II became a critical turning point in the military’s undeclared war against disease. In 1943, the British decided that troop health was the responsibility of the officers, not just the medical corps. At one point, three British commanders were dismissed for lack of health and sanitation standards enforcement. Once combat officers were held accountable for the health of their men, enforcement became far more stringent. In the United States that year, medical supplies that once languished on docks became a top priority for oceanic transport. Specially trained disease control units began shipping out to the war theaters as well.
In early summer 1943, Duffee’s transfer to McKay’s Crossing near Wellington, New Zealand, brought him closer to war. Assigned to the 2nd Marine Regiment, he had his hands full as malaria swept through the ranks while they healed, rested, and resupplied after Guadalcanal was secured in February. Sanitation was lax, and officers allowed troops to bivouac in mosquito-infested areas when safer campsites were less than two miles away.
In New Zealand, Duffee learned the value of ingenuity in treating tropical diseases. A man’s temperature had to hit 104 degrees before he was sent to the hospital for two or three days’ treatment with quinine, if it was available, or Atabrine. Duffee discovered the gel caps shipped from the United States often melted in transit, making it impossible to fill them with the medicine. So Duffee calculated the proper dosage of powder, wrapped each in toilet paper, and ordered the Marines under his care to wash it down with grapefruit juice.
Slowly, the Marines regained their strength as they speculated on their next assignment. The combat veterans knew they would not be told until they were already on their way to the next battle. No one
Atabrine was a synthetic alternative to quinine, which had been used for hundreds of years to treat malaria. Atabrine was developed by German researchers Walter Kikuth, Hans Mauss, and others in the early 1930s after Germany found itself without a supply of quinine during World War I. Early in World War II, the Japanese seized control of the only major source of quinine, the cinchona plantations in Java, Indonesia. Atabrine became the Allies’ only widely available antimalarial drug.
Some soldiers who began taking it after reporting aboard ships bound for the Pacific theater suffered nausea and vomiting, so they stopped their doses. They may have associated seasickness with Atabrine. Once they joined their units in the Pacific, they found many officers who considered disease control a distraction to “killing Japs.” Enforcement of the daily dose of Atabrine was lax at best. Some soldiers also considered hospitalization for malaria preferable to combat duty.
Although effective, the small yellow tablets tasted extremely bitter. Atabrine also gave the skin a sickly, pale tint. Complaints grew so rampant that some corpsmen and medics stationed themselves at the head of mess hall lines to make sure everyone took his Atabrine every day.
Once his corpsman training was complete, Duffee and hundreds of others reported to downtown San Diego’s Navy Pier 11A and boarded the Bloemfontein , a Dutch transport bound for the Pacific.
When Duffee arrived in New Caledonia, the young corpsman began treating exhausted and mangled Marines who had been shipped off Guadalcanal. The island assault in late 1942 was one of the war’s first prolonged battles of attrition in which disease was far more debilitating than the Japanese. Nearly two thirds of the Marines suffered from malaria, while 25 percent had been wounded by the enemy. In November, there were 1,800 cases of malaria (including recurrences) per 1,000 Marines. New Caledonia had been selected for recuperation in part because the anopheline mosquito that spread malaria wasn’t found there.
The second year of World War II became a critical turning point in the military’s undeclared war against disease. In 1943, the British decided that troop health was the responsibility of the officers, not just the medical corps. At one point, three British commanders were dismissed for lack of health and sanitation standards enforcement. Once combat officers were held accountable for the health of their men, enforcement became far more stringent. In the United States that year, medical supplies that once languished on docks became a top priority for oceanic transport. Specially trained disease control units began shipping out to the war theaters as well.
In early summer 1943, Duffee’s transfer to McKay’s Crossing near Wellington, New Zealand, brought him closer to war. Assigned to the 2nd Marine Regiment, he had his hands full as malaria swept through the ranks while they healed, rested, and resupplied after Guadalcanal was secured in February. Sanitation was lax, and officers allowed troops to bivouac in mosquito-infested areas when safer campsites were less than two miles away.
In New Zealand, Duffee learned the value of ingenuity in treating tropical diseases. A man’s temperature had to hit 104 degrees before he was sent to the hospital for two or three days’ treatment with quinine, if it was available, or Atabrine. Duffee discovered the gel caps shipped from the United States often melted in transit, making it impossible to fill them with the medicine. So Duffee calculated the proper dosage of powder, wrapped each in toilet paper, and ordered the Marines under his care to wash it down with grapefruit juice.
Slowly, the Marines regained their strength as they speculated on their next assignment. The combat veterans knew they would not be told until they were already on their way to the next battle. No one
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