Next Stop - Ft. Carson

A couple days ago I posted a video I saw on You Tube honoring those who served in a medical or dustoff capacity in Vietnam. It has really affected me and I feel such sadness and loss right now. It also got me thinking of my new duty station after Vietnam. Once my leave was over I headed for Ft. Carson, CO. Being back in the states for those 30 days seemed to really mess me up and I longed to be back at the 24th in Vietnam with people I knew, my family. I flew to Denver and then to Colorado Springs. My duffle bag didn't make it so I had to wait for the next plane to see if it was on that one, which it was. But I could not make myself grab some transportation and head off to Ft. Carson. I just sat there in the baggage area. I don't know for how long but it seemed like hours. Finally I headed off for Ft. Carson. I checked in and got my temporary barracks and some chow. Later that night on the national news there was a story on Vietnam and right before my eyes was the 24th Evac and they were talking with the guys I was stationed with in the A&D and others I knew. It made me even more messed up than I was. The next day I had to police the area and pick up cigarette butts. I thought "What the Fuck am I doing." 30 days ago I was bagging bodies and taking care of the wounded and now I'm picking up cigarette butts in December at Ft. Carson. I believe later that day was the day I was assigned to a barracks for in-processing which took about a week and I was so scared, numb, lonely, you name it. I guess God was with me and knew I felt I was at the end of my rope.

I met two other GI's also in-processing. I know one and feel sure the other one as well was just back from Vietnam. I remember one had his spleen taken out. I stated in a earlier post how funny I found it in the service at how quickly one established a friendship / bond with other GI's and this was again one of those cases. We were billeted in an old World War II barracks. I don't remember how we connected but it was quick. One of them had a car and asked us if we wanted to check out the surrounding area. So, after duty each day we would go off to explore Cripple Creek, Colorado or Manitou Springs or a local restaurant. It was a very quiet and subdued time together. We didn't speak of the war and our conversations were really quiet, low key and they were also very calming to me. Every night for a week we were off together and each night was much the same. I cannot put into words how much this meant to me and at that time it saved me. Soon the week was over and the one with car got his assignment and was gone. The one without the spleen and I had yet to be assigned and he only had a few months until he got discharged. I was talked to and told what Unit I'd be assigned to. My new friend wanted to be assigned with me and I felt the same. I did go and speak to the Staff Sergeant working on the assignments and tried my best to get him assigned with me but unfortunately that was not to be. Soon we said our goodbyes and I was off to my new Unit. I never saw either of them again but I am so thankful our paths crossed even if only for a short time.

I'd like to say that things went well from then on but things started to go bad over time and within six months I was facing one of the most difficult situations I had ever experienced and one that could change my life forever.

I'll Never Leave Vietnam

There is a song in the play Miss Saigon that has a verse that includes "I'll Never Leave Vietnam." For me, and I suspect most others, that is true. It may sound strange, but in my mind I am always there and think of Vietnam throughout the day and then in my dreams at night. I miss those I had the honor of working with at the 24th Evac and always think of those who died or were wounded who came through our hospital.

I found this video tonight honoring those who served in a medical or dustoff capacity and the 24th is included. I found it so overwhelming and I wanted to share it.

Agent Orange and Kids

A couple of weeks ago I had my fourth colonoscopy and had 12 polyps. Most, or all of them, were pre-cancerous. I had to go see a Genetics person as the Doctor wanted to do a study on my family (brothers and sisters) and he wanted to start with me. And then, perhaps their children based on how the tests come out. The Genetics person said I have a bad gene that probably came from my mothers side. She also stated what the Doctor stated, that I am at very high risk and will probably end up with cancer.

During this first meeting I actually spoke with her about Agent Orange. I told her that almost every morning around 4:00 a.m. they loaded choppers with herbicides for spraying the jungle. The helipad that the choppers were being loaded with was on a secondary helipad next to the one bringing in casualties. I had been on that helipad numerous times and was on-duty when they were loaded. This helipad had 50 gallon drums filled with what we understood as herbicides. Some staff at the hospital would from, time to time, fly with the crew during spraying. 

Anyway, I told her of my concern regarding Agent Orange contact, or at least, the contact with those herbicides on the helipad. (From what I now understand all Vietnam Veterans have been considered as having Agent Orange contact.) I told her of my concern for having children and my fear of birth defects and that I could not face those risks. I told her I made the decision not to have children. After I finished she said I now have another big risk for cancer. She stated that I probably made a good decision not to have children and the horrible effects of Agent Orange including birth defects.

I have never regretted the decision to not have birth children. I do have two adopted children including one from Korea and I love both dearly. When I look at them I only see them as my children just as it should be. I also have a step-daughter who I love just as much as my adopted children.

Anyway, tomorrow I'll be back for some extensive blood work and will be followed closely and we'll see how this all plays out. One can only have faith.

Vietnam Moving Wall in Omaha

The Moving Vietnam Wall was here in Omaha for the last week at Memorial Park and I went to see it on Sunday around 10:30 p.m. It was its last night here and I could not get it out of my mind and knew I had to go see it. There was only one other person there when I arrived other than the former Vietnam Veteran who was there to answer questions, etc. He said that huge crowds of people have been there during the week and he thought so few people were there now as they thought they we loading up that night for the next destination. I’ve been to the Moving Wall twice before, once in Omaha and once in Littleton, CO. Even though I’ve seen it before I was overwhelmed with emotions as I walked up to it. Even in the smaller Traveling form it seems so huge with over 58,000 names on it in white against the black wall.

The Vietnam Veteran there to assist told me where to find the four panels for GIs who died while I was in Vietnam. I know I was with many of them when they died or shortly after they died. Although I did now know their names I wanted to touch the names on the panel, pay my respects and say some prayers. After that I walked the length of the Wall saying prayers as I did. Later as I was standing there the Vietnam Veteran who spoke to me earlier who had asked if I had served In-Country and welcomed me home came and spoke with me. He said “You know, it’s not over.”. He went on to say he has Stage 4 cancer from Agent Orange and spoke about women veterans whose children suffer from birth defects as well as other conditions Vietnam Veterans face such as Diabetes. We then stood silently together for a few minutes. I then shook his hand and thanked him and left. I was so glad he had spoken to me and it brought such comfort.

You know, there is a song in the play “Miss Saigon” where one of the lines state “I’ll never leave Vietnam”. I don’t believe that a day has ever gone by that I have not thought about Vietnam, the people I was stationed with, what I did, saw, and especially those who were wounded or died. And I have realized some time ago that I have never left Vietnam, nor will I ever as it will always be with me.

The Australian Soldier's English

There was an article this week in our local paper regarding English language barriers between Soldiers from Iowa and New Zealand Soldiers in Afghanistan. Even though both use the English language they had difficulty understanding each other and meaning of the words were different. Of course reading the story brought memories to my mind. In Vietnam we had soldiers from Thailand, Australia, New Zealand, South Korea, etc. and of course there were all types of language barriers. To me, the funniest and craziest was when we had an Australian Soldier come in. He was carrying on and laughing and talking and I was at a total lost as to what he was saying due to his accent and meaning of words being different that mine. This seemed to amuse him and he just started talking more and more and became very animated as I became more and more confused. I think the only thing I ever got out of the conversation was something about someone looking like a monkey looking out of a cage. I knew he was not talking about me but could not follow who he was talking about. He was only around for about 10 minutes or so and I think he brought in another Australian GI to the ER and then he was off. He was quite the character, one whose personality would match what I have heard as far as description of Australians. I had always hoped to take a trip down under to visit my Austrailan Brothers but know I'll not have that opportunity, but that will no prevent me from downing a beer and toasting my mates.

What did you do in the war?

What did you do in the war? Most people do not know I was in the Army or in Vietnam. I rarely, if ever, tell people and only been asked a handful of times "What did you do in the war?" When they find out I was in Vietnam. I simply say "I worked in a hospital." Usually at that point in time the asshole will say, "Oh, that's it? Let me tell you about the Grunts, the firefights, what they did and had to go through, etc." This coming from a guy 20 years younger than I am who was never in the service. And for over 40 years I have felt so unworthy. I didn't fight and suffer like those out in the jungle. I wasn't wounded, maimed or killed. And worse of all I was always so afraid the Grunt's hated me and considered me a coward.

What did I do in the war? It is time for me to say. I was stationed at the 24th Evacuation Hospital in Long Binh on January 1st, 1971.  I was told they didn't need an MOS 72B20, Communications Specialist. I had no medical knowledge. After a couple days I was assigned to the A&D (Admissions and Disposition). That was part of the ER, just separated by a short cloth curtain. I got my first taste of war that day. The A&D radio constantly coming to life regarding incoming choppers. Codes I didn't understand coming over that radio; traumatic amputations to the arms, legs and feet; head wounds; DOA; Gun Shot Wounds to the face; chest; etc. And the scrambling of those in A&D to grab gurneys running out to the choppers to bring in the wounded.

What did I do in the war? I worked a minimum of 12 hours from 1800 to 0700 hrs. I answered the radio and gathered information regarding the incoming. I let the ER know what we had coming in. I took the wounded off the choppers, many times climbing into the chopper amid wounded GI's tossed in on top of each other. I'd get them out and onto a litter and gurney in the darkness of night not knowing what to expect or if they were dead, alive or just what their wounds were. I put my hand under a GIs head and find most of it was gone from being blown off from an ambush using a Claynmore mine. I'd rush the wounded into the ER and try to get personal information from them, get them a number for blood work, etc. and an armband on. Many times during mass casualties I'd get the armbands ready and list the names as Unk GI 1, Unk GI 2, Unk GI 3, etc. along with individual numbers knowing there was no time to get any additional information as the wounded just kept coming and coming. I'd help in anyway I could. I'd cut off bloody uniforms, pump an ambu bag to keep them breathing, help bandage and dress wounds, etc. And not all incoming was a battle casualty. There were heart attacks, snake bites, motor vehicle accidents, a GI with an almost severed leg from a chain saw accident. There were drug overdoses, GI's who were fragged by other GI's mamasan's giving birth, dog bites, chopper and plane crashes and the very worst as far I was concerned the burn victims. And in between all of this we would have the drunks come in, or an injured NVA POW who grabbed a scalpel trying to slash you or a mentally unstable GI trying to fire an M16 and kill you.

Once the wounded were taken care of, or at least being worked on, it was time to take care of the dead. The dead soldier may have died in the field, on the way in or in the ER. Most times I would be in the Morgue by myself with a GI in a bag on a litter on the floor of the Morgue. I remember looking down at a young man who looked like he was sleeping. I slowly cut off all his clothing. I'd took off his dog tags and cut off any rings or jewelry he may have had on. I remember the body still being warm and I wondered if they made a mistake, maybe he was alive, but that was not to be. Once that was all completed I'd fill out a tag and tag his toe, zip up the bag and then tag the bag. I'd then go into the hospital and log in all his belongings and put them in a bag so they would be returned to his family. I'd then get another GI to come help me lift up the litter and get him on a rack in the Morgue making room for possibly another death. Graves Registration would be called to come pick up the body. There were times when I would be there in the Morgue with another GI to take care of the dead especially those who had received very traumatic wounds. I once helped post op taking care of several South Vietnamese dead with an Ambulance driver as so many were dying on the ward they needed help. Our emotions so screwed up at the time and him being mad at me for getting him involved. But I had to so something. I could only think of how bad it must be for those alive being surrounded by the dead on that ward.

Every day was exhausting and many times after all was said and done it'd get quiet and I'd look down at the blood on my fatigues, my hands and in my mind I'd wonder if if this really wasn't a dream.

I always prayed for these young men and their families. And for some reason felt so close to them as if one of my own had been injured or died. I always wanted to tell families that there was someone there as your child was dying who listened and spoke with them or that there was someone who treated their remains with respect and honor.

My life has always been filled with such inner sadness and I feel such loss for these you men who were wounded or died. And that sadness continues. Those days are so long ago yet I remember it everyday and I know it will be that way every day of my life until I die. And I hope that when I die I will be reunited with these young men.

So that is what I did in the war. And I must try to remember what one Grunt in from the field in a mass casualty situation said to me:

"I don't know how you do this every day. I am so glad I am out in the field because I would not be able to do this."

Thank you my brother.

The Texan's Toe

We had a lot of Texans in Basic Training. After we were in Basic for a while I remember one of the Texans talking with Ed (from Omaha) about his little toe. Apparently his little toe grew on top of the toe next to it. It was causing him some problems with his boots on and he was wondering if he should go to sick call. Ed told him to go for it and he did. I ended up sending him  to the hospital to take a look at and see what could be done. Well, the answer was quick. He could get it cut off and continue in Basic Training or get a medical discharge. I believe that he was married and decided that he would not miss Basic or the Army that much so he took the medical. He was a good guy and we were all happy him.

You know, I never thought about it until yesterday. Maybe I should have went to sick call for my eyes. I totally flunked the eye test when I had my induction physical and my eye problems were not correctable. Who knows what the outcome would have been. But I truly believe from a young age that going into the Army and war was my destiny.