The Duration and Six Months is a chronicle of one woman’s tenure as an Army nurse during World War II. Sibyl Germaine Coressel (Jerry) joined the Army in 1942 at the age of 32 because she wanted to take on an active role in the war effort, and she believed that her experience and talent as a nurse could best be put to use in the military. The letters she wrote to her mother, her brother and her sisters during her years in the service reveal her devotion to her family, her independent character and determination, and her resilience in the face of disappointment.

She tells of a time rife with the excitement of new romance, the adventure of travel to remote parts of the world, and the satisfaction of caring for injured soldiers – of a war which sometimes manifests itself in long periods of boredom and uncertainty. Her letters provide a rare glimpse into the daily routine of Army life during World War II.

Shirley Coressel is a niece of Jerry Coressel, and the second daughter of John Maynard Coressel, the "kid brother" to whom many of the letters in this book are written. Shirley holds a B.A. in English and MSA in business administration. A former teacher and law firm administrator, she is presently the Director of Continuing Legal Education at the Columbus Bar Association in Columbus, Ohio.

Dear Mom and All,

I’m still on night duty, but have only three more nights. The time has passed quickly and I’ve really enjoyed it. The best part of it is the early morning snacks from the kitchen. One day at 4 a.m. I had a delicious fresh cake, the next night a steak sandwich, and last night we had toasted cheese sandwiches and fresh cherry pie. Some business.

Did I tell you that Steve is gone? I really hated to see him go – having a pretty good idea what he is getting into, etc. He gave me his ring – a square blue set in a small gold setting. He wore it on his little finger, so it just fits me. Now I can shed my high school ring – it dated me!

I’ve had quite an interesting time on duty, too. Chisholm, the guy with the amputated legs, really depends on me. He is rather a nice looking guy, and he has been a wonderful sport about his accident. But at night he can’t sleep, and really gets the blues. He sends for me about every hour, or more often, and expects me to talk for 15 or 20 minutes. One night I dashed away a little sooner than usual, and went past a few minutes later and he was lying there crying. I felt like a fool – what does one do in a case like that? It’s beyond me. Of course, he is the pet of the ward.

They have opened several new wards, so tonight I have four wards instead of two. Three of them are new, but I still have the Officers’ ward, so Chisholm should be happy.

Tomorrow morning I must do my washing again. I haven’t got all my ironing done from the last time yet. It’s a merry-go-round. We still don’t have our large ironing board, so we use a small one propped on the arms of a chair which doesn’t work too well. Did I tell you about the shelves and shoe rack that one of my ward men built for me? It’s the envy of the barracks. Now I have a place to put up my pictures. My drapes look so pretty – I’m really proud of my little nook.

Well, dearie, I’m really way behind with my correspondence now, and a new one on my list. The gals are rehearsing a new song that some bright A.N.C. composed. It’s title is "I Lost My Modesty in the Outdoor Latrine" and is sung to the tune of "I Lost My Heart at the Stage Door Canteen." It’s really rare, and VERY descriptive.

Bye-bye, darling.

Love,
Jerry