Choppers (Medivac & Dustoff)

Since I have been back from Nam I ofter hear people talk about Medivac or Dustoffs when talking about transporting the wounded. I don't think I ever really used that term while at the 24th. They were just referred to as choppers. About the only time I heard the term Medivac is when a chopper would come in during the early morning hours taking wounded from our hospital to the air base for transfer patients to Japan, etc.

Since my tour of duty was nights, most of my time on the helipad was when it was pitch black except for four lights bulbs with red glass covers on the helipad. Many times we'd be standing there watching the chopper with their spot light searching for the hospital and helipad. Often times I'd run over and switch those small red lights off an on hoping that it would help the pilot identify the helipad. It probably didn't help but I had to try something.

I felt many emotions when on the helipad waiting for the chopper or choppers. I was scared of getting hit or walking into the tail rotor or rotor blades. I felt such sorrow when there were dead GI's coming in on the chopper or worried that I wouldn't be able to get the GI into the hospital soon enough. And I think my biggest fear was the fear of the unknown and what to expect when that chopper landed. A chopper may have had two or three wounded on it and they were placed on litters with IV bottles running. Or they could have two, three or more GI's just piled on top of each other and maybe even dead lying among those still alive. And it was so dark, with just a dim light turned on inside of the chopper, but we did everything in our power to get those young men into the ER as quickly as possible.

We encountered many different types of choppers. We had Huey's, small Loach choppers, Jolly Greens, Pedro's, etc. bring in wounded. And of all those the two that really worried me the most was the Loach or Pedro. My worst encounter with the Loach was when it was bringing in a chopper pilot who had crashed and he was burned on the upper body. That thing was all over the place as it came in. I was on the helipad with another GI with a litter and we saw this thing coming and knew we were dead. He hit that helipad hard and was actually skidding towards. They are short and we were really at risk in getting out head hit by the rotor blades or tail rotor. I think we actually had to jump into a drainage ditch to avoid contact. And out came the pilot with his arms in the air literally screaming in pain as he ran towards us and we just ran with him into the Hospital. I think this was the only time I had a patient not going in on a litter.

The other chopper was the Pedro. The were short and had two intersecting rotors. I dreaded each time they landed. The pilot would light up the front flood light and talk to us on a speaker. He would tell us which way to move, Left or Right, etc. as he guided us into the chopper. Once we made it through those two intersecting rotor blades the Crew Chief would walk us to the back to get the wounded. One time it was a blond stewardess from a jet bringing in the new guy in-county. The plane hit turbulence and she was injured. Once we got the wounded on the gurney, the Crew Chief would then walk us out.

It may sound strange but I can detect when a chopper is near. Many times when out at a recreation area or in town I'll say here comes a chopper and my family or the people around me will just look at me like I'm crazy. But then here it comes and they will see it and say "Oh there it it is. How did you know it was coming?" But I don't respond as my memory is flooded with memories of Vietnam.

Last summer I was driving past a mall that had fire equipment, police vehicles, etc. for the public to tour. I then saw what appeared to be a Pedro and I had to turn around and go back to the mall. I got out of my care and as I got closer to it I saw that although it resembled a Pedro it only had one main rotor. I was overwhelmed with memories and tried to speak with the pilots. Something didn't click and he didn't seem to respond to a couple of my questions as I had hoped. I guess in looking back in time and he not being there but in the present probably wondered who is this guy. I left after a couple minutes with my emotions all over the map. I guess I expected too much from someone in the current day and place and me zooming back in time.

I just want to end this with a "Salute" to all those pilots, crew chiefs, door gunners, medics, etc. for their valiant service who saved so many of our brothers. You are always in my thoughts and prayers.

Thump, Thump, Thump

For some crazy reason I have been thinking about an incident for the last couple of weeks and actually found the letter I wrote home about it on 4 Oct 71. It had been a pretty quiet night at the 24th but sometime during my tour a GI came in, pulled me aside. He told me he had a guy in his jeep with a bunk adapter and was going to bash in peoples heads. I asked him why he brought him to the 24th rather than the MP's. I don't remember his answer but did call the MPs. After I hung up the phone I heard this thump, thump, thump against the bunker walls. The GI went outside looking around another building for the guy and I followed him and was watching him and when I turned around here, right before me, was the GI with the bunk adapter. I seem to remember it raised up over my head. Anyway, I backed into the A&D as he followed me in. I had let the ER know what was going on and luckily the MPs showed up right then. Come to find out he had been seen at the 24th a week earlier as he purposely shot himself in the foot and I think I was on-duty that night as well. I guess we figured he was trying to get himself back home. I never did hear about him again or the outcome of this incident. You know, I think this was maybe only one two or three instances I knew of where a GI was trying to get himself sent home so this was definitely not the norm for GIs in-country from my experience.

After all was said and done all I knew was that I was really pretty stupid going out looking for him and that it really shook me up  I do feel lucky tough as I don't think his intent was to really hurt anyone. If it was, he had the opportunity to bash my head in before I had even seen him standing next to me with the bunk adapter. All I can think of is that God must have been watching out for me that night.

I can't handle it tonight.

It was always and endless stream of wounded and dead GI's coming through the 24th. And there were times it became unbearable and you thought you could not handle any more. My Sergeant had one of those nights. We received just received a call from a chopper regarding a patient with multiple gun shot wounds to the face. My Sergeant told me he just could not handle it and said he'd get the guy off the chopper if I'd go into the ER and get the GI's information, get the wrist band on him, get his clothes, valuables and do whatever the ER may require me to do.

 I was in the A&D side of the ER as the litter was being brought in . All I remember seeing was this guy trying to sit up with no face and blood spraying everywhere. I followed the litter into ER. The worked feverishly to try to save this GI. It was horrific seeing this soldier with no face and fighting the Doc's and Corpsmen as they tried to work on him and got him into surgery. I believe one of the major issues was his attempting to breath.

It seemed like only minutes before he was in surgery. That is when we found out that he apparently attempted suicide and, if I remember correctly, he put an M-16 under his chin and pulled the trigger with a full clip in it. That night one of the surgeon's was a Major and she was fairly new in country. I think she may have had a plastic surgery background or was a plastic surgeon. I believe he was in surgery for many hours (I'm thinking 12.). The Major and staff were able to save his life and I was there when he was airlifted to Japan some weeks later. I remember being in the area between the ER and Pre-Op where patients waited to be airlifted by helicopter to the airbase to be flown out. I was with the Major who did the surgery who was now wearing a khaki's. I looked down at this GI and saw somewhat of a face and was so amazed at how well he looked compared to when he came in. It was from from a normal face but a face no less. I asked her about him and how he was doing. She said that he did not remember what happened but knew where he was. She said that his eyes were saved but that he would probably have double vision and that he had many, many more surgeries coming his way. Soon the chopper arrived and I and another GI took him out to the Huey and got him loaded for the trip to the airbase. I helped the Major get in the chopper and it was the only time I helped someone with a skirt on and it was really awkward trying to get her up into the chopper. I then left the helipad and watched as the chopper lifted off.

You know, I relive and remember so much of what I saw and did in Vietnam and my memories of my life outside of Vietnam is miniscule compared to Vietnam and being in the service. And this may sound strange but I'm afraid I'll forget those memories even though I know they burned in my memory. My only wish is that I'd like to be able to know how this young men's life turned out as well as the others who crossed my path. I know this is impossible but I often wonder about them. I can only say that hey are in my thoughts and prayers and that I have not forgotten them.