Youth Hi-lites: Healthcare at Minidoka

By Izzy Martin

Friends of Minidoka Summer High School Intern, One Stone School, Boise

As you can imagine, the 13,000 people incarcerated at Minidoka still suffered from the flu, toothaches, and sprained ankles, just like they did before the war began. Unlike their interrupted dreams, medical care was not a necessity to be left behind. So in the dusty desert of Idaho, the Minidoka Hospital was born. From August to December of 1942, the hospital gradually became operational as construction and staff training was completed. The space consisted of seventeen 60’ by 90’ wings branching off of a long 6’ by 731’ hallway. Within the complex, there were 196 beds, an X-ray machine, EKG machine, dentist office, maternity ward and much more. The hospital performed procedures such as appendectomies, tonsillectomies, and hysterectomies, to name a few. 

However, the initial cause of sickness at camp was actually the result of poor equipment, inadequate refrigeration, and unsanitary conditions. In a hospital report from April 1943, incarcerees reported to the WRA that the sewage system was overflowing so dramatically that it formed a lake. With fly season approaching rapidly, this pool of raw sewage created a hazard for the nearby pump house and butcher shop. Neither was equipped with fly protection to prevent fly borne diseases. This sewage overflow continued to pose a problem for years to come. Camp administrators reported problems such as the sewage effluent line between the canal and highway breaking down in 1944 and gross contamination of a water tower in 1945. In fact, the first three months of camp operation reported 199 cases of salmonella among incarcerees, perhaps resulting from improper handling of human waste. After the problem became clear, Carmen A. Sulliven, the project sanitarian, issued frequent reports on camp conditions while the engineering department doubled down to repair unsafe infrastructure. 

At the Minidoka Hospital, there were 16 white employees and 180 Japanese employees, as reported by Densho; however this number fluctuated quite frequently due to budget cuts and employees finding other jobs. White medical professionals could be employed at hospitals outside camp for much higher pay, so recruitment proved to be a real challenge. In June 1944, the medical staff was so minimal that only four physicians were available – three full time and one part-time. There were no laboratory technicians, x-ray technicians, or dietitians. The staffing situation was described as, “Present and impending shortage of personnel of quite acute concern,” while “Aide service to patients has been cut to bare essentials,” and “difficulty in maintaining adequate in-patient care.”

Even more frustrating, the WRA employed a white head nurse and doctor over the rest of the staff. This not so subtle act of racism allowed white employees to claim a sense of seniority and self-imposed sense of authority over the Nisei employees, even those that had extensive experience, training, and education. As you can imagine, this caused a lot of tension. To combat the staff shortage, the United States Public Health Service Commissioned Corps trained women in their late teens and 20s as nurses aides. Over 300 Nisei women were trained in nursing during the war and 200 of them enlisted in the U.S. Cadet Nurse Corps. 

One of the major aspects of healthcare at Minidoka was maternity care. It is very difficult to imagine the physical and emotional complications caused from delivering a child in camp. However, Densho recorded the maternity program as a highlight. At Minidoka, around 500 births were recorded. Women could either give birth in the camp hospital or be transferred to nearby hospitals outside of camp. When both mother and child returned to their barracks, they were provided with “well-baby” care, a service that continued postpartum care through clinical and home visits. In a Public Health Nurse Statistical Report from February of 1944, 17 mothers attended a demonstration sponge bath where they were taught the basics of caring for their newly born infants. “The importance of a good post-partum regime” was stressed. Ami Kinoshita, a Minidoka survivor, tells the story of birthing her first child in camp. She recounts details of traveling in a sleeper car on the way to camp in an effort to avoid losing her child from rough travel. After arriving at the isolated and sandy camp, her daughter, Jayne Kinoshita, was born in the camp hospital on December 14th, 1942. 

In the 1940s, it was becoming increasingly popular for women to deliver at the hospital, under physician care. At this point, midwifery was in decline, viewed as “a poor person’s birth attendant.” For the reasons mentioned above, birthing at the hospital was mandated by WRA officials, leaving no option for home birth. Of the nearly 70 Issei women who reported midwifery as their primary occupation, only a few were able to become “health assistants,” but none were allowed to help in the actual delivery process. After two weeks of mandatory rest, Ami was barely able to walk because her legs were so shaky. Once she returned from the hospital, her primary task became cleaning diapers. At camp, many women had to wash their children’s diapers by hand in the community bathrooms or showers because they did not have access to a washing machine. When Jayne got a little older, Ami would take her to the washing areas to play with all the children while the mothers did washing. 
One of the most tragic groups of patients at the hospital were those suffering from mental health conditions. In 1943, the hospital reported sending two men, one 45 and the other 20 years old, to a “State Hospital for the Insane” in Blackfoot, Idaho. A month later, two women were in such a state that the staff had plans to send them to Blackfoot as well. Nobu Suzuki, whose husband was a doctor at the hospital, said that there were a great many “disoriented people” in the hospital who could not function on their own. The hospital would take care of their physical needs, and those who recovered were moved back home to be cared for by family members. Nobu describes these patients as unaware of who they were and where they were, causing them to wander around the camp. She said this was caused by the “change in the facilities and also the change in their lives.” It is essential that we not only emphasize the physical, but also the mental implications of this mass forced removal. They are massive. 

James Watanabe, a former Minidoka hospital employee, relayed his experiences and impressions of overall camp health care in a letter to Frances Haglund, who used to be a science teacher at Minidoka. He starts off by describing the layout of the hospital, from the women’s wards on the north end to the men’s wards on the south end. As expected, privacy proved to be very minimal and occupancy was fairly high. Prominent problems among patients were chronic illnesses, strokes, or simply old age. The head white doctor was Dr. Neher supported by Dr. Paul Suzuki, Dr. Taken, and Dr. Keike, all Japanese doctors. James reported that the hospital’s supplies were always well stocked with bandages, insulin, and other medications. While general practitioners did most operations, occasionally surgeons would be called in for more specialized surgeries. In rare cases, patients were transferred to Boise or Salt Lake City for special treatments. 

All in all, James describes Minidoka health care as “good but austere.” Because of the abundant and experienced Nikkei and Issei staff, he said, “It was like treating one of your own family.” Additionally, Susan Smith writes in Women Health Workers and the Color Line in the Japanese American ‘Relocation Centers’ of World War II, “Here many Japanese Americans, especially from rural areas, received more health care than they ever had before. Furthermore, they obtained more free health care than did residents of most American communities at the time. In this sense, camp health-care services mirrored those developed by U.S. military forces, which equaled or exceeded those available to the average American.” 

Although it seems that overall health care was executed at a higher level than it was outside of camp, it had its obvious flaws. From unsanitary sewage and food handling to extreme staff shortages and inadequate patient care, the whole situation proved to have major inadequacies. With all of this to deal with, Nisei healthcare workers were still paid less than $20 a month, while having to brave the same conditions everyone else lived in. It is hard to imagine all of the challenges the staff and patients endured at this hospital behind barbed wire, but their contributions, sacrifice, and suffering will never be forgotten.  

Sources Cited:

Suzuki, Nobu. Conducted by Dee Goto. Densho Visual History Collection. Interview II Segment 3. Densho. June 11, 1998. https://ddr.densho.org/interviews/ddr-densho-1000-87-3/?tableft=segments

Kinoshita, Ami. Conducted by Betty Jean Harry. Japanese American Museum of Oregon Collection. Interview Segment 10, Densho. May 29, 2014. https://ddr.densho.org/interviews/ddr-one-7-70-10/?tableft=segments

“Letter to Frances Haglund from James Watanabe.” Frances Haglund Collection. Densho. July 18, 1985. https://ddr.densho.org/ddr-densho-275-37/

Fiset, Louis. "Medical care in camp." Densho Encyclopedia. 5 Oct 2020, 17:44 PDT. 28 Jul 2022, 15:51 https://encyclopedia.densho.org/Medical%20care%20in%20camp

Smith, Susan L. “Women Health Workers and the Color Line in the Japanese American ‘Relocation Centers’ of World War II.” Bulletin of the History of Medicine, vol. 73, no. 4, 1999, pp. 585–601. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/44446033. Accessed 19 Jul. 2022.

Niiya, Brian. "Minidoka." Densho Encyclopedia. 16 Dec 2021, 21:51 PST. 28 Jul 2022, 15:52 https://encyclopedia.densho.org/Minidoka

“Hospital Reports.” Box 6, Folder 14. Sims Collections. Special Collections and Archives - Boise State University. 1943-1945

“Public Health Nurse Statistical Report.” Box 6, Folder 15. Sims Collections. Special Collections and Archives - Boise State University. February 1944