NEWS RELEASE

......I was naked on my back on the bed. It was a genuine bed, with sheets, but I couldn't enjoy the luxury of it because the pain chewed at me. When I tried to lift my head, it pounded fiercely. I had just a glimpse of my feet. They were elevated and covered with white netting. I didn't know what was wrong with them, but they wiggled when I tried to move them.
......''Hi, Marine.'' I looked up into the beautiful brown eyes of a Navy nurse wearing a starched white uniform.
......''Frostbite?'' I asked. My raspy voice sounded like someone else. She nodded. This was the first I knew I had frostbite. Frostbite could mean amputation. That scared the hell out of me.
......The Navy nurse bent down beside me and held my hand. Her voice was soft, yet firm. ''You'll be fine. It will all work out.''
......I was safe. I fell asleep.
2nd Lt. Joseph R. Owen, USMC (Ret)

ST. PAUL, MINNESOTA - In facilities crowded with four times more patients than the space was meant to hold, they cared for ''the miracle patient,'' a man with half his head blown off who survived; men whose frozen feet had to be amputated; men with holes in all parts of their bodies. The nurses aboard the hospital ships USS Consolation, USS Repose and USS Haven, and in the hospital at Yokosuka Naval Base, Japan didn't care who they were, or what part of the world they were from. They cared for all of them with warmth, sympathy, laughter, thoughtfulness, and superb nursing skills. They celebrated those who lived and sincerely mourned those who died. The patients held them in esteem and gratitude, and remembered them warmly, but not by name. They were Brown Eyes, or Mac, or Blondie.