Her first day on the job also was her first in a foreign country, first in a war zone and first in a hospital for Freeburg native Jeanie Hasenbeck.
The year was 1967, and the 20-year-old had joined the American Red Cross' Service to Military Hospitals in the hopes of finding her brother, Paul, who was missing in action in Vietnam.
"I could not believe they could lose my brother - not (yet) knowing what a jungle was like, what war was like," she said.
Her service with the Red Cross "was the most rewarding part of my life," Hasenbeck said.
As one of only three non-military workers at the 24th Evacuation Hospital near Ben Hua airport, Hasenbeck said her role was a "jack-of-all-trades."
"I did what the medical staff didn't do," she said.
Knowing what it was like to not know what was happening with a loved one in wartime, one of Hasenbeck's jobs was to send casualty messages and updates to the U.S. base to be passed on to family.
"I could be of help to families when they were in such a desperate need for information," she said.
Perhaps more importantly, she was there to comfort the wounded - most of whom were moved on within three days.
The soldiers, evacuated to her hospital by Chinook helicopters, primarily suffered from neurological or orthopedic injuries. In other words, they had wounds to their head, including blindness, and were missing limbs.
Even Hasenbeck's mother would help as she could. For example, she covered a Rubik's cube with different fabrics as a pastime for blind patients.
Hasenbeck didn't have the benefit of medical training or military experience. That meant she quickly had to overcome the shock of gross and horrific injuries.
"When I first got there, I was so overwhelmed by what I saw," Hasenbeck said. "But I was not helping anyone.
"I just had to buckle up and do it.
"I went from being sick to my stomach to almost oblivious to the injuries - I just saw past the injuries to the person."
She also knew she must "get out safely" so her family would not experience another loss.
During her year in Vietnam, Hasenbeck was able to pursue her original intentions to find her brother. She did not leave the perimeter for obvious reason, unlike her expectations of wandering the countryside and visiting with locals.
"Once I got to Vietnam, I realized how impossible it would be for me to find him," she said.
But Hasenbeck was allowed to visit with once-captured U.S. soldiers who were liberated and sent to the hospital.
"I'd show them Paul's picture," she said.
A prisoner of war hospital was next door to the one where Hasenbeck worked. She knew what "wonderful treatment" they received and hoped the same was true for the American POWs - learning later that was not the case.
"We had every reason to believe Paul was alive," Hasenbeck said of the beginning. "Everything indicated he was captured."
Initial reports of the incident suggested the Vietnamese knew the fate of Paul and his three team members - Thomas Mangino from Ohio, Daniel Nidds from New York and David Winters from California.
So then Hasenbeck's hopes of finding her brother were deferred to "maybe after the war."
Back in the U.S., Hasenbeck continued to search for answers.
Once, the U.S. government informed her that 16 personal items from her brother were on display at a museum in Hanoi. She asked friends, who were members of the Vietnam Veterans of American, traveling back to that country to look for those things; they didn't see them there.
Paul has a 19-inch classified file.
"They would not have that, if he died the day he was lost," Hasenbeck said.
She once took her mother to the Pentagon to look at that file. But they allowed only one page at a time in the room with her.
Other agencies also had reports on her brother's team.
But they varied.
One said he died four days after being captured and another said seven years.
One said he was dropped into underground tunnels and forced to teach English. Another said they were held in caves.
"There is so much conflicting information," she said.
Serious U.S. and Vietnam "normalization" talks began in 1991. Paul and his team members were discussed specifically on the floor of the U.S. Senate, due to the lack of explanation.
"Paul's case became "notorious,'" she said.
Renewed hope for closure came in 1992, when an ABC news report showed Sen. John Kerry talking with Col. Pham Duc Dai, whose diary said he witnessed the execution and burial of four men from the 196th in April 1967 - same unit, same coordinates and same time as Paul's team.
"I thought "hooray,' we'll get Paul home," Hasenbeck said.
She spent that entire night and $800 on phone calls trying to reach the right people. But again, they didn't have the truth.
"We can debunk some, but we can't prove any of it," Hasenbeck said.
Eventually, the families of POW/MIAs in Vietnam organized, hoping to drive an accounting for nearly 2,500 lives.
"It's really frustrating," Hasenbeck said. "I wish they wouldn't hold out the possibility and then not come through with an answer.
"Families don't need more false hopes and disappointments.
"How do you put it behind you with no resolution?"
Paul enjoyed hunting and fishing with his friends in Freeburg. He was working for the state department of health when he was drafted.
"He was a grand human being," the proud sister said. "He was a loving brother and had a beautiful voice."
In Vietnam, he was assigned to the 196th Light Infantry Brigade, 31st Infantry, 4th Battalion, Company D.
"His unit's life expectancy was about 90 days," Hasenbeck said.
When he went missing, 20 days before his 20th birthday, Paul had been in-country about three months.
In 2009, several of his childhood buddies honored him by renaming the Maries Valley American Legion Post in Freeburg as the Paul A. Hasenbeck American Legion Post 317.
"We're quite proud and honored they appreciated his contribution," Hasenbeck said. "Sometimes, it feels like only the family cares; then something like this happens and we know a whole lot more people care."
The name change "was a good reminder of the friendship and camaraderie of growing up in a small community," said David Bexten, who was post commander at the time. "As veterans, we've all been in wartime - it's a different kind of special ... because we know."
Post 317 opens each meeting or event, as do all Legion posts, with prayer and giving honor to all POW/MIAs of all wars, Bexten said.
"We remember them, always."
That's why the POW/MIA flag is carried along with the nation's flag at parades and presentations. And most posts have a permanent remembrance table in their meeting room.
The Freeburg post home also has a memorial case with several of Hasenbeck's items, such as his boots and shaving case, donated by the family.
As the nation prepares to celebrate Memorial Day Monday, Hasenbeck longs for a more reflective attitude about the holiday.
"I think for this young generation, Memorial Day has lost its meaning; it's not just for barbecues and picnics," Hasenbeck said. "There was a lot of sacrifice and service we need to remember and be thankful."