Paula Hansen has been increasingly determined to ensure her aunt’s legacy is known and documented. 

By Susan Thompson | Lake Panorama Times

More than 416,000 American military personnel were killed during World War II. One of those casualties was Marjorie Gertrude Morrow. In recent years, Morrow’s niece, Paula Hansen, has been increasingly determined to ensure her aunt’s legacy is known and documented. 

Lyle and Paula Hansen have their primary residence in Audubon. They owned a home in Horseshoe Cove from 1980 to 1985, then were drawn back to Lake Panorama in 2012. 

Going by her middle name, Gertrude, and most often known as Gert, Second Lieutenant Marjorie Gertrude Morrow grew up as a small-town Iowa girl. 

“Gert was a stepsister to my father,” Paula Hansen says. “Her father, Merrill, married my grandmother, Pauline Norton Worster, in 1935. The two families had been friends in the same church and card group in Algona. My grandfather, Stanley Worster, passed away in 1931, and Merrill’s wife passed away in 1932, both after lengthy illnesses.” 

Gert Morrow was born in Algona on May 17, 1916. She had an older sister, Helen, and a younger brother, Charles. Their father, Merrill, sold farm equipment, then later worked for Aetna Life Insurance. Their mother, Bessie, died when Gert was 16. 

Merrill had recently established an Aetna Life Insurance office in Des Moines. After Bessie Morrow’s passing, he moved the family to Des Moines. 

Gert finished her high school years at Roosevelt, graduating in 1933. After Merrill and Pauline Norton Worster married, he moved his insurance office to Audubon. Gert’s brother, Charles, finished high school in Audubon, along with Paula Hansen’s father, Paul, and his sister, Mary Ellen. 

After high school, Gert took care of her father, as she did for her mother during her illness. Once he remarried, she followed in the footsteps of her older sister by entering the Iowa Methodist School of Nursing in Des Moines. She graduated in 1938 as a registered nurse. For the next four years, she worked in private practice with a doctor and at Iowa Methodist Hospital. 

Morrow enlisted in the Army Nurses’ Corps in October 1942 and did her training at Fort Francis E. Warren in Wyoming. In April 1943, she was sent overseas with the 95^th Evacuation Hospital Unit. Nine days later, the unit of doctors, nurses and enlisted soldiers landed at Casablanca, North Africa, and set up their first hospital tent city. 

The details of Morrow’s time with the 95^th Evacuation Unit are available online as part of the Stories Behind the Stars project, a national effort of volunteers who write stories of Americans killed in World War II. 

Reports show the unit moved several times, waiting for Allied Forces to invade Italy. In September 1943, they boarded a British hospital ship to cross the Mediterranean from North Africa to Salerno. Due to heavy raids and bombing, the ship couldn’t land and headed 30 miles back out to sea, where it was fired on by German planes and sank. 

Those who could got into life boats and eventually were rescued by another hospital ship and taken back to North Africa for treatment and rest. Gert Morrow survived the injuries she received in the ship’s bombing. 

Eventually, the 95th Evacuation Hospital personnel, including Gert, reached Italy, following the first landings of American troops on Sicily. American forces were digging in as the Germans opened a counter drive on land and in the air. 

There were continuous air raids, with many casualties, hard work and only occasional times of rest in foxholes. They were located near the front line at Anzio. Following is an excerpt from an official account of what happened Feb. 7, 1944. 

“There were about 400 patients in the hospital, loaded ambulances coming in with freshly wounded, and the operating rooms, shock wards and x-ray sections working at full capacity. Also, it was the first time in a month that hospital personnel received mail.” 

A surgeon attached to the hospital wrote this in his diary. “It was the blackest day in the history of the 95^th Evacuation Hospital. A German bomber came over being chased by a British Spitfire. The enemy pilot dropped his load of bombs in our area.”

The bombs fell on the operating, administrative and ward areas of the hospital, a half-mile from the nearest military target, despite a large Red Cross cloth being displayed. 

There were 27 people killed, including 27-year-old Second Lieutenant Marjorie Gertrude Morrow. Morrow was described as having just completed the administration of blood plasma to a patient. She was one of three nurses who died that day. 

It was nearly a month after Gert’s death that her father, Merrill Morrow of Audubon, was notified by the War Department of her passing. 

“Gert lived in Audubon for a while,” Hansen says. “A neighbor in Audubon told me that when he was 9 years old, he remembers hearing Gert was killed. And that in her neighborhood there were two young men who died at about the same time, plus one other man in the community.”

It was October of 1945, nearly a year-and-a-half after her death, when Merrill Morrow received a letter from the War Department with information on the location of her grave in the U. S. Military Cemetery in Nettuno, Italy. 

Paula Hansen says from the time she was quite young, she can remember family members talking about her Aunt Gert. This is one story from her Aunt Mary Ellen. 

“At one time, Grandma and Merrill had Gert in the Army in Italy, my father Paul in the Navy in the Pacific, and Merrill’s son, Charles, in the Army in Europe. Mary Ellen had graduated from Grinnell College and wanted to join the Navy. She was living in Audubon waiting because she wanted to go in as an officer,” Hansen says. “They got word during this time that Gert had been killed. I can imagine it was more than the parents could handle with the boys still in the service and the war far from over.

“Instead, Mary Ellen went with a friend from Grinnell College to Oak Ridge, Tennessee, and worked for the Atomic Energy Commission as a secretary. All they could tell her was she was doing something for the United States war effort. The family learned later her future husband was an engineer who was directly involved in producing the atomic bomb,” Hansen says. 

In May 1962, a new library at the Iowa Methodist School of Nursing in Des Moines was named for Marjorie Gertrude Morrow. News reports show there were 300 people in attendance at the library’s dedication. A plaque recognizing Morrow was on display in the library, plus three medals presented posthumously — Purple Heart Medal, World War II Victor Medal and European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal. 

“I knew Gert had been a nurse and died in World War II and was buried in Italy. She was the only Iowa nurse killed in World War II,” Hansen says. “As I got older, probably high school, I realized Grandma and Merrill had never been to her grave in Italy. I was close with my grandparents, and family has always been important to me. I hoped one day to represent our family by going to the cemetery.”

That long-awaited trip happened this September. Paula’s cousin, Cara Reinert, lives in Pennsylvania and works for Johnson and Johnson. 

“She contacted me last April and said she had several international conferences she was attending this year. She asked if my daughter, Carrie, and I would be interested in traveling with her. One of the countries was Italy, and I knew this was the perfect opportunity,” Hansen says. “I contacted a travel agent recommended by a friend, and we put together an itinerary.” 

To make arrangements to visit her aunt’s grave, Paula Hansen sent a message to the general email for the Sicily-Rome Cemetery. She provided her aunt’s name and service number, said she planned to visit the cemetery Sept. 24, and asked if staff could help her get to the gravesite. 

In less than 12 hours, a reply came from Mariska Weaver, assistant superintendent of the Sicily-Rome Cemetery.  

“We are very familiar with your Aunt Marjorie Morrow, as she is one of the 17 incredible women buried here. We would be happy to escort you to her site. When family members come and visit, we provide a guided visit of the cemetery grounds, a walkthrough of our visitor’s center, a visit of the historic family room, and the special sanding ceremony at the family member’s headstone.” 

On Sept. 19, Paula and Carrie Hansen flew to Newark, New Jersey, where they met Reinert. From there, the trio flew into Naples and enjoyed a few days of sightseeing. 

“We got to swim in the Mediterranean and have lunch on Capri,” Paula says. “We had a private car and driver for an eight-hour tour of the Amalfi Coast with lunch and shopping in Positano. We also enjoyed a four-hour golf cart tour of Rome.” 

Sept. 24 was the day to visit the Sicily-Rome American Cemetery and Memorial. A private car and driver picked up the three women at their hotel in Rome to make the 40-mile drive south. 

They were greeted at the cemetery by Luca Tamberlani, an interpretive guide. 

“He was excellent,” Paula says. “He was so very appreciative of the Allied Forces entering the war to free Sicily and Italy from Mussolini and Hitler. He showed such compassion for our family and for all those buried there.”

Carrie Hansen says he reminded her of both a museum docent and a funeral director. 

“He was so reverent as he talked about the cemetery grounds. He was kind and soft spoken, just delightful,” she says.  

Paula and Carrie signed a guest book and met with their guide in a room reserved for families. They toured The Memorial, a building that includes a chapel and map room. A visitor’s center includes a family room, displays, artifacts, maps, photographs and a short film. 

There are 7,860 burial plots in the cemetery. Each is marked with a white marble headstone, a Star of David for those of the Jewish faith, and a Latin cross for all others. 

Before entering the cemetery, Paula Hansen purchased fresh flowers from a nearby stand. Their guide carried a small bucket of dark sand from Anzio Beach as he brought them to the grave of her aunt. He raised the sand to the front of the marble cross and rubbed it across the engraving, filling in the white letters and numbers to make these more visible. 

He also placed a small American flag on one side of the cross and an Italian flag on the other. Paula placed her flower bouquet at the base of the cross. Their guide walked away from the family to give them time alone. Shortly after, he played a recording of Taps, the bugle call that signals “lights out” at the end of a military day, and also is heard during military funerals. 

“It was very emotional,” Paula says. “I was having difficulty actually believing I was there after all these years. And remembering those who had gone ahead to make it possible for us to be there.” 

Carrie Hansen says she was more emotional than she expected. 

“We’ve visited many historical battle sites and burial sites before,” she says. “This one hit home more than others. The enormity of the burial grounds, me being older, and this being a relative; it all combined to make this more impactful.”  

As they left the cemetery, Paula asked their guide to recommend a restaurant on Anzio Beach. 

 “The beach is less than a mile from the cemetery,” she says. “It was very moving sitting there on the same spot where the battles raged and so many lost their lives, including Aunt Gert. It now is a popular resort area.” 

The next day they took a train to Milan from Rome, then a second train to Stresa, where Cara’s three-day conference was held. 

“Cara had her meetings, and Carrie and I walked, shopped, found delightful coffee shops, and enjoyed a breathtaking view with the lake and the Alps in the distance,” Paula says. “Sunday we had a driver take us back to Milan, and we walked around near our hotel. It was the end of Fashion Week, so it was fun to sightsee.”

Early the next day, they were at the airport. 

“Our flight home brought us one final poignant moment,” Paula says. “As we were getting close to landing, the pilot said over the loudspeaker, ‘Welcome to the United States of America, the land of the free and the home of the brave.’ Cara, who flies internationally a lot, said she had never heard a pilot say that before.”

Back in Iowa, Paula Hansen added memorabilia gathered at the cemetery to her small stash of items she already has regarding her Aunt Gert — one newspaper clipping, the letter to her grandfather from the War Department describing her burial location, and a flag handed down through the years that is in memory of Gert, although its origin is unknown. 

It made her wonder about the library named in honor of her aunt. The Iowa Methodist School of Nursing opened in 1901. Its last class of nurses graduated in 1999. In 2013, the building was torn down to make space to expand the emergency and intensive care units of the hospital. 

Hansen made a call to UnityPoint Health – Iowa Methodist Medical Center. The first person she spoke with didn’t know anything about any historical items but promised to do some research. A few days later, a second call to someone in the hospital’s foundation brought better results. 

“I soon heard back from her, and she said she had found a frame with Aunt Gert’s photo, three medals and a typed description of her life hanging on a wall in the hospital. She was almost as excited as I was,” Paula says. 

On Oct. 20, Paula and Carrie Hansen drove to downtown Des Moines to UnityPoint Health. They met the woman who found the items, and she walked with them to the hospital’s Medical Education Recognition Hall.

“This all has been surreal for me,” Paula says. “So many things have come together in the last few months that helps complete Gert’s legacy.” n