The Healing Army: My Grandfather’s Service at America’s Largest WWII Hospital

When I think about institutions that shaped my family’s history, one stands out prominently: Percy Jones Hospital in Battle Creek, Michigan. This wasn’t just any medical facility—it was where my maternal grandfather, George Dubinsky, served during the final months of World War II, and where thousands of wounded American soldiers found healing and hope after the horrors of combat.

If you read my Week 7 post about my grandfather’s wartime letters, you might remember that after spending twenty-nine grueling months in the Pacific Theater, he returned stateside and was eventually assigned to Percy Jones. Today, I want to share more about this remarkable institution, pieced together from Grandpa George’s letters to my grandmother Eva and historical research.

From Health Resort to Military Hospital

The story of Percy Jones Hospital begins long before World War II. In 1866, the Seventh Day Adventists established the Western Health Reform Institute in Battle Creek, promoting preventative medicine and nutrition. Under Dr. John Harvey Kellogg, it became the world-renowned Battle Creek Sanitarium, attracting luminaries like Henry Ford and Amelia Earhart. After a fire in 1902, a grand six-story Italian Renaissance building was completed in 1903, with a 15-story tower added in 1928. The Great Depression, however, left the sanitarium nearly empty by the early 1940s.¹

With America’s entry into World War II, the Army purchased the main sanitarium building in August 1942 and began a rapid transformation. By February 22, 1943, the newly named Percy Jones General Hospital opened its doors, honoring Colonel Percy L. Jones, a pioneering Army surgeon who revolutionized battlefield ambulance evacuation during World War I.²

A Specialized Military Medical Facility

Percy Jones Hospital emerged as one of the Army’s 65 stateside General Hospitals, designed to provide complex medical and surgical care requiring specialized training and equipment. The facility specialized in neurosurgery, amputations, fitting artificial limbs, plastic surgery, physical rehabilitation, and artificial eyes.

In one of his letters from February 1945, my grandfather described his first impressions upon arriving at Percy Jones:

He wasn’t exaggerating about its size. As casualties increased, the facility expanded dramatically. The hospital’s authorized capacity reached 3,414 beds, with over 700 operations performed in a single month at its peak. By the end of the war in August 1945, the patient population at the hospital’s three area sites peaked at an astonishing 11,427, making it the largest medical installation of any kind in the world at that time.⁴

A Hospital Like No Other

My grandfather’s letters track the evolution of the facility’s name, something I found fascinating from a historical perspective. He initially addressed his letters from “Percy Jones General Hospital,” then “Conv. Facility P.J.G. & C.H.” (Convalescent Facility Percy Jones General & Convalescent Hospital), and finally “Percy Jones Hospital Center” following the end of the war in Europe.

Between April 19 and May 12, 1945, the facility’s name officially changed to “Percy Jones Hospital Center.” This coincided with the consolidation of the facility with nearby Fort Custer Hospital and W.K. Kellogg’s estate at Gull Lake, which was used as a convalescent center, making it the Army’s largest medical installation.

Percy Jones functioned like a small city within Battle Creek. The massive complex was entirely self-contained with its own water supply and power generation, as well as a bank, post office, public library, and radio station called “KPJ.” An indoor swimming pool and bowling alley helped wounded veterans rebuild their strength and coordination.

The medical specialties were impressive for the era. The hospital focused on neurosurgery, treatment of neuropsychiatric conditions, amputations and rehabilitation, plastic surgery, deep X-ray therapy, and the fitting of artificial eyes and limbs. In a single month, the surgical teams performed 729 operations⁵—a staggering number that illustrates the scale of wounded soldiers returning from overseas.

More Than Medical Care

What made Percy Jones truly special was its comprehensive approach to rehabilitation. The facility didn’t just heal bodies—it prepared wounded veterans for their return to civilian life.

The Percy Jones Institute, an accredited high school, offered educational programs in more than 20 fields of study, including business, pre-technical training, and agriculture⁶. Arts and crafts programs provided both therapeutic value and potential vocational skills.

The Battle Creek community embraced these wounded heroes. Detroit’s AFL/USO Committee organized weekend social activities for servicemen, with volunteer hostesses providing companionship during dinner, dancing, or visits to local points of interest. At the height of the war, more than two thousand people visited the hospital daily, including celebrities such as Bob Hope, Jimmy Stewart, Ed Sullivan, Gene Autry, and Roy Rogers.

Battle Creek even became the first American city to install wheelchair ramps in its sidewalks to accommodate Percy Jones patients who visited downtown—an early example of accessibility innovations that would eventually transform American urban design.

My Grandfather’s Role

Unlike many at Percy Jones, my grandfather wasn’t there as a patient despite having malaria from his service in the Pacific. In his February 12, 1945 letter, he explained that he and other overseas veterans were sent there “for the express purpose of training those vets who are convalescing from wounds or diseases contracted while overseas.”⁷ This included both physically wounded soldiers and those suffering from what he called “shell-shock” or combat fatigue, terms we now recognize as describing post-traumatic stress disorder.

George was assigned an administrative role as head of the payroll section for convalescing officers. His address changed to “Co ‘A’ ENL Det Br, Convalescent Facility, Battle Creek, Mich,” and later to “1st Sgt Geo Dubinsky 6880854, Conv Hosp Co D 5th BN 1st Regt, Percy Jones Hospital Center, Fort Custer Mich.”

Daily Life at Percy Jones: Healing, Hope, and Hard Work

George’s letters offer a vivid look at the daily operations of Percy Jones. His administrative leadership role included managing paperwork, patient records, payroll, and logistics for incoming and outgoing convalescent soldiers. As patient numbers grew, he often worked long hours, sometimes without enough clerical support, to keep up with rosters and reports. By March 26, 1945, he wrote that he had 90 patients under his supervision, later mentioning 73 patients in his July letters.

His patient support responsibilities included processing new arrivals—many wounded or suffering from psychological trauma—and helping them get home or on furlough. He issued passes, coordinated with his Company Commander, and reported to Battalion Headquarters.

The hospital organized recreational activities for morale, including trips sponsored by outside organizations like the Detroit Athletic Club. My grandfather described this as “a very exclusive club” costing around $1,800 annually for membership—equivalent to over $29,000 in today’s dollars! These outings were a morale boost for patients adjusting to life after injury.

As the war wound down, Percy Jones became a hub for processing discharges. In a May 13 letter, my grandfather explained the Army’s point system, which determined eligibility for release based on months served, overseas duty, awards, combat stars, and dependent children. He himself had 91 points, just above the 85 required for discharge at the time.

The Human Side: Challenges, Compassion and a Bit of Humor

George’s correspondence reveals the challenges of managing a facility filled with men eager to return home. He recounted stories of patients struggling with mental health, including one who threatened to go AWOL after a difficult conversation with a social worker. George coordinated with doctors and military police to ensure everyone’s safety and well-being.

He also described the practical difficulties of running such a large operation: shortages of clerks and typists, the need for strict schedules, and the constant flow of paperwork. Yet, he remained dedicated, supporting both patients and staff with empathy and efficiency.

My grandfather’s own health challenges added another dimension to his service. Though never admitted as a patient, he continued to struggle with periodic malaria attacks—a lingering effect of his service in the Pacific Theater. In a letter dated May 16, 1945, he wrote to my grandmother about suffering a malaria attack after returning from New York. Just a few days later, on May 19, he reassured her, “feeling fine now sweets, no malaria, and no hang-over.” Despite these bouts of illness, he continued his duties overseeing convalescent soldiers, managing paperwork, and helping process discharges.

Another surprising aspect of Percy Jones was the presence of German prisoners of war who had considerable freedom within the facility. In his March 3, 1945 letter, my grandfather described an astonishing encounter:

This first-hand account reveals the strange reality of Percy Jones, where German POWs sometimes had more freedom than American personnel, a situation my grandfather found particularly frustrating.

Transitioning to Peace

As World War II ended, Percy Jones Hospital Center played a significant role in the demobilization of troops. George himself was discharged through the center, describing the process in his August 12 letter: turning in clothes to Supply, visiting the dentist, collecting money and railroad tickets from Finance, getting clearance from headquarters, and finally returning to his company.

The hospital closed briefly after World War II but reopened during the Korean War from 1950 to 1953. When it closed permanently in 1953, Percy Jones Hospital had served nearly 95,000 military patients during its decade of operation.

Famous Patients and Lasting Legacy

Among the nearly 95,000 military patients treated at Percy Jones during World War II and the Korean War were three men who would later become United States senators: Philip Hart of Michigan (wounded during D-Day), Bob Dole of Kansas (wounded in combat over Italy), and Daniel Inouye of Hawaii (wounded in combat in Italy).

After treating over 100,000 patients and closing permanently in 1954, the building later became the Battle Creek Federal Center. In 2003, it was fittingly renamed the Hart-Dole-Inouye Federal Center in honor of those three senators who had once been patients there.

Finding His Future

For my grandfather, Percy Jones represented a pivotal chapter in his life. While serving there, his exchange of letters with my grandmother Eva grew increasingly affectionate. By August 1945, after Japan’s surrender, his letters focused on their future together. They married just weeks after his discharge from the Army in September 1945.

I sometimes wonder how different my family history might have been if George hadn’t been assigned to Percy Jones. Would his letters to Eva have taken a different tone if he’d been stationed elsewhere? Would their romance have blossomed in the same way if he hadn’t been processing wounded soldiers and contemplating the fragility of life?

What I do know is that his time at Percy Jones gave him perspective. Seeing so many young men with life-altering injuries made him appreciate his own health and future possibilities, despite his recurring malaria. In caring for those who had sacrificed so much, he found his own way to serve and, ultimately, a clearer vision of the life he wanted after the war—a life with Eva.

Connecting to History Through Family Stories

The story of Percy Jones Hospital Center is one of transformation, service, and hope. Through my grandfather’s letters, we glimpse the vital role this institution played in treating and rehabilitating thousands of wounded service members and the dedication of those who worked behind the scenes to help heal a generation scarred by war. Their compassion, organization, and resilience made all the difference for the soldiers on their way home.

Researching Percy Jones Hospital has given me a deeper appreciation for my grandfather’s service and for the institutions that shaped our nation during World War II. These massive medical centers, often forgotten in mainstream historical accounts, were crucial to helping an entire generation of wounded warriors heal and reintegrate into society.

The next time you visit Battle Creek, Michigan, take a moment to look for the historical marker at the Hart-Dole-Inouye Federal Center. Behind those walls lies the story of thousands of American servicemen whose lives were forever changed by their time at Percy Jones Hospital—including the story of my grandfather George, whose letters home to Eva capture a moment in history when a nation learned to heal from the wounds of war.

What institutions have played important roles in your family’s history? I’d love to hear your stories in the comments below!

1. “Battle Creek’s Percy Jones General Hospital” The Henry Ford: Explore Blog, The Henry Ford Museum (https://www.thehenryford.org/explore/blog/percy-jones-general-hospital-battle-creek-michigan : accessed May 4, 2025). ↩︎
2. “Battle Creek’s Percy Jones,” The Henry Ford: Explore Blog. ↩︎
3. George Dubinsky to Eva Marcisak, letter, 12 February 1945; privately held by Kirsten M. Max-Douglas, Blue Ash, Ohio. ↩︎
4. “The Percy Jones Decade,” DLA.mil, Defense Logistics Agency (https://www.dla.mil/About-DLA/News/News-Article-View/Article/3272330/the-percy-jones-decade/ : accessed May 4, 2025). ↩︎
5. “Battle Creek Percy Hospital Remembered on 80th Anniversary,” WWMT News, Sinclair Broadcast Group (https://wwmt.com/news/local/battle-creek-percy-hospital-remembered-80th-anniversary-world-war-korean-war-patients-soldiers-allies : accessed May 4, 2025). ↩︎
6. “Battle Creek Percy Hospital Remembered,” WWMT News. ↩︎
7. Dubinsky to Marcisak, letter, 12 February 1945. ↩︎
8. George Dubinsky to Eva Marcisak, letter, 3 March 1945; privately held by Kirsten M. Max-Douglas, Blue Ash, Ohio. ↩︎