For some reason my thoughts have been on this all day and I'm a mess. I don't know why these things come up and I start thinking about them and I can't get them out of my mind.
I came on duty and was told that we had a soldier in the Morgue and that someone from his Unit would be in to identify the remains. I was told to take them in to identify the body. I was afraid and worried. It may sound strange, but I had been in the Morgue many times and bagged numerous bodies, but had never opened a bag I didn't know what to expect and afraid of what I'd see. I'm so embarrassed now about feeling that way and feel so sorry about my feelings being so self-centered.
Eventually two individuals came in from his Unit. One NCO and one Officer I believe. I took them to the Morgue that was basically a wooden structure outside the ER area. I unlocked the padlocked door and took them in. I took them to the bag located on a rack on a stretcher and pointed to it. I was told to "open it". Again, being afraid of what I'd see and it being something I could not be prepared for, I unzipped the bag and opened it in a way so that they could see this young man and identify him without me looking into the bag. I heard comments regarding his injuries and became very angry. They seemed to be more impressed about what they saw rather than really looking at a young GI who died and identifying him. My anger took over and I asked "is it him" and they said yes. I immediately closed the bag and got them out of the Morgue. As we were walking into the ER and A&D area I heard them talk about the wounds and how some of their comrades were coming over and they would take them to look at this young soldier wounds. There was no doubt this was just to look and ooh and aah about what they saw and could brag about to others.
My E-7 came in that night which was somewhat rare as he was days. I told him what had happened and I was so upset and angry and that I didn't want to do this again and how wrong it was. I told him they just wanted to see the wounds and that is all they cared about. I guess I was pretty crazy but he understood and I am so thankful he did. When the other men came in and joined the other two they said they wanted to go back to the Morgue to see this young man. My Sergeant said "No", you have already identified him and no one was going back in. I was so relieved. Not because I would have to go in again but that my Sergeant understood and respected this young man who died.
I am so sorry and pray to God for forgiveness for being so selfish and I pray for this young man and his family.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Sergeant of the Guard, the Claymore Mine and Me
I was watching a program involving Prison's and, of course, it brought back an awful memory.
It was 7:00 a.m. and I was just getting off duty at the 24th when a member of the Army staff who investigates crimes came to get me. I was told nothing except that I was to go with him, which I did. We reached their site on base. Once inside I was told the following: That an attempt to frag the Sergeant of the Guard occurred. Apparently he saw the tripwire when opening the door to his hooch. He saw it before opening the door all the way. The tripwire was connected to a Claymore Mine. The people doing the investigation believed that the Claymore Mine was taken from the Arms Room located just outside the ER. (Part of our jobs was to secure all weapons from the incoming patients and secure it in that small Arms Room that was padlocked.)
I barely knew the Sergeant other than knowing he was new and I believe new In Country as well. I had guard duty only once with him as the Sergeant of the Guard. What little I knew was that he was hardcore and pushed to make sure everyone followed the rules - no leeway. If memory serves correctly, that didn't sit very well with those who had been In Country. Just a new guy who thought he knew everything and fuck the rest.
At this point in time I was scared. I was on duty every night for a minimum 12 shift and had access. I didn't know if they just picked me up or had they interrogated any others. All I could think of is that I was going to LBJ (Long Binh Jail - the stockade/prison for military personnel). I didn't know what to do. My mind was racing. What if they dont' believe me? Can they take fingerprints? My fingerprints were are lots of weapons in the Arms Room. There was no mention of my rights, an attorney, nothing except lots of questions coming my way. There was nothing I could do except answer those questions as they were asked. I could only hope that they would believe me and that I was truthful. After some time I was taken back to the 24th. I dont' remember if I was told I was cleared or what. I was just happy to be free. And what happened to the Sergeant of the Guard? I don't ever remember seeing him again and suspect that he was moved to another duty station for fear it could happen again.
That's it as I remember and it gets my mind and heart racing every time I think of it. Did I attempt to frag him? No way. I saw GI's who had been fragged and it was horrific. I was constantly surrounded by wounded and dead and no way would I ever think of doing that. And I am just so thankful that the truth prevailed.
It was 7:00 a.m. and I was just getting off duty at the 24th when a member of the Army staff who investigates crimes came to get me. I was told nothing except that I was to go with him, which I did. We reached their site on base. Once inside I was told the following: That an attempt to frag the Sergeant of the Guard occurred. Apparently he saw the tripwire when opening the door to his hooch. He saw it before opening the door all the way. The tripwire was connected to a Claymore Mine. The people doing the investigation believed that the Claymore Mine was taken from the Arms Room located just outside the ER. (Part of our jobs was to secure all weapons from the incoming patients and secure it in that small Arms Room that was padlocked.)
I barely knew the Sergeant other than knowing he was new and I believe new In Country as well. I had guard duty only once with him as the Sergeant of the Guard. What little I knew was that he was hardcore and pushed to make sure everyone followed the rules - no leeway. If memory serves correctly, that didn't sit very well with those who had been In Country. Just a new guy who thought he knew everything and fuck the rest.
At this point in time I was scared. I was on duty every night for a minimum 12 shift and had access. I didn't know if they just picked me up or had they interrogated any others. All I could think of is that I was going to LBJ (Long Binh Jail - the stockade/prison for military personnel). I didn't know what to do. My mind was racing. What if they dont' believe me? Can they take fingerprints? My fingerprints were are lots of weapons in the Arms Room. There was no mention of my rights, an attorney, nothing except lots of questions coming my way. There was nothing I could do except answer those questions as they were asked. I could only hope that they would believe me and that I was truthful. After some time I was taken back to the 24th. I dont' remember if I was told I was cleared or what. I was just happy to be free. And what happened to the Sergeant of the Guard? I don't ever remember seeing him again and suspect that he was moved to another duty station for fear it could happen again.
That's it as I remember and it gets my mind and heart racing every time I think of it. Did I attempt to frag him? No way. I saw GI's who had been fragged and it was horrific. I was constantly surrounded by wounded and dead and no way would I ever think of doing that. And I am just so thankful that the truth prevailed.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Cancer, Colostomy and a Pool Stick
It has been a long week. My youngest sister was diagnosed with colon cancer and underwent surgery this last week. So far, she does not have to have a Colostomy and I pray she grows stronger and recovers. It appears they caught it in time and I'm so thankful for that.
In 2002 ago my mother died of colon cancer after a long illness. Although terminal, she fought a very good battle. It was a case of having cancer, but a Dr. who didn't really listen to a patient stating she had some pain so it had progressed too far before he took action. After a period of time and several surgeries, she had to have a Colostomy. My wife told me that my mom told her that she could see I was really bothered when I first saw it. But there was much more to it that what she believed.
In Vietnam I saw a few patients who, due to wounds, had to have colostomy/stomach surgery. My first encounter was when I saw a patient on the Post Op Ward . How can I describe what I saw and experienced that first time. The incisions, bandages, and odor. All of these combined were overwhelming to me at first, not knowing or understanding what had happened, etc. And then I felt so bad for those young men and just so helpless. I hated what was happening to them and just could not understand why.
But there was one instance that brings great sadness to me. If I remember correctly, it was a young Lt. brought into the ER. He was in excruciating pain. I was not with him for very long, just to get information from him in the ER and I was there when the ER doc was gathering information. He told the Dr. that he was playing pool. Apparently someone got mad at him and when he was bent over the pool table making a shot the other GI rammed the pool stick up his ass. (No better way to say this.) Again, he was in so much pain and every move caused even more excruciating pain.
I left the ER before he was examined and I can't remember what happened or the outcome of his surgery or his prognosis. All I know is that this poor GI was in such pain and I suspect his life will remain altered due to this senseless act. And I also suspect he ended up with a Colostomy. I often think of him and wonder how he is and what became of him. So, whenever I hear of a Colostomy, I remember this young Lt. and think of him and say prayers for him. I find this the hardest part - not knowing the outcome of those who I came in contact with at the 24th. It leaves such an empty feeling and I so want to know what happened to them. I can only remember them and keep them in my prayers.
I also want to say that several years ago I read an article of a GI in Iraq who was in an ambush. He suffered multiple wounds and also ended up with a permanent Colostomy. He went on to set-up a group to send school supplies to Iraqi school children. He to has been in my prayers as well.
I pray to God for all our Veterans and those now serving our Country.
In 2002 ago my mother died of colon cancer after a long illness. Although terminal, she fought a very good battle. It was a case of having cancer, but a Dr. who didn't really listen to a patient stating she had some pain so it had progressed too far before he took action. After a period of time and several surgeries, she had to have a Colostomy. My wife told me that my mom told her that she could see I was really bothered when I first saw it. But there was much more to it that what she believed.
In Vietnam I saw a few patients who, due to wounds, had to have colostomy/stomach surgery. My first encounter was when I saw a patient on the Post Op Ward . How can I describe what I saw and experienced that first time. The incisions, bandages, and odor. All of these combined were overwhelming to me at first, not knowing or understanding what had happened, etc. And then I felt so bad for those young men and just so helpless. I hated what was happening to them and just could not understand why.
But there was one instance that brings great sadness to me. If I remember correctly, it was a young Lt. brought into the ER. He was in excruciating pain. I was not with him for very long, just to get information from him in the ER and I was there when the ER doc was gathering information. He told the Dr. that he was playing pool. Apparently someone got mad at him and when he was bent over the pool table making a shot the other GI rammed the pool stick up his ass. (No better way to say this.) Again, he was in so much pain and every move caused even more excruciating pain.
I left the ER before he was examined and I can't remember what happened or the outcome of his surgery or his prognosis. All I know is that this poor GI was in such pain and I suspect his life will remain altered due to this senseless act. And I also suspect he ended up with a Colostomy. I often think of him and wonder how he is and what became of him. So, whenever I hear of a Colostomy, I remember this young Lt. and think of him and say prayers for him. I find this the hardest part - not knowing the outcome of those who I came in contact with at the 24th. It leaves such an empty feeling and I so want to know what happened to them. I can only remember them and keep them in my prayers.
I also want to say that several years ago I read an article of a GI in Iraq who was in an ambush. He suffered multiple wounds and also ended up with a permanent Colostomy. He went on to set-up a group to send school supplies to Iraqi school children. He to has been in my prayers as well.
I pray to God for all our Veterans and those now serving our Country.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Did You Ever?
Did you ever? Did you ever just sit back and just wonder? That is something I have been doing more of lately. I'm not sure what is driving it. Could it be because I'm getting to that certain age? Could it be that I'm just tired? Or is it that I now want to think more of me and in doing so all the "Did You Ever?" comes up?
Did you ever want to start life over, knowing what you know now?
Did you ever want to tell your parents you now understand how difficult it was being a parent?
Did you ever wish you studied harder, put forth more effort?
Did you ever wish you were a better parent knowing you did your best but believe you've failed?
Did you ever want to be more honest?
Did you ever really want to be yourself instead of something other than what who you appear to be?
Did you ever want to just stand up for what is right and your beliefs rather than being silent?
Did you ever want to touch peoples lives in ways others have not?
Did you ever want to be truly loved for who you are?
Did you ever want to make a difference?
Did you ever want people to remember you as someone who touched a life and someone special?
Did you ever want to be heard?
Did you ever wish you had money or were rich?
Did you ever want to meet people from Russia, China, North Korea and really sit down and just really, really, openly talk and learn.
There are so many "Did You Ever?" that comes to mind that I can't list them all. And many of them would never be realized and some may viewed as just stupid. And if I were rich I'd share it with those who needed it so I'd never be rich, and so on, and so on. And I guess of the "Did You Ever?", there is a number one "Did You Ever?" I really wanted to do:
Did you ever want to go back to Vietnam? Absolutely. I think of Vietnam all the time. Will it make a difference in my life if I go back? I don't know but I sure hoped I'd get that chance. I always wanted to go there with my son who was adopted from Korea. For some reason I have always thought it would bring some closure for me. It would also be an experience both of us would cherish and he and I have had this quiet connection regarding Vietnam. I suspect I'll never have that opportunity.
Well, it's time to get some ZZZZZZZZZZsss and I hope that tomorrow I can lighten up some. It seems I have been on such a downward spiral and so sad for a very long time. I just can't seem to shake it. I guess it's just another one of those "Did You Evers?"
Good Night -
Did you ever want to start life over, knowing what you know now?
Did you ever want to tell your parents you now understand how difficult it was being a parent?
Did you ever wish you studied harder, put forth more effort?
Did you ever wish you were a better parent knowing you did your best but believe you've failed?
Did you ever want to be more honest?
Did you ever really want to be yourself instead of something other than what who you appear to be?
Did you ever want to just stand up for what is right and your beliefs rather than being silent?
Did you ever want to touch peoples lives in ways others have not?
Did you ever want to be truly loved for who you are?
Did you ever want to make a difference?
Did you ever want people to remember you as someone who touched a life and someone special?
Did you ever want to be heard?
Did you ever wish you had money or were rich?
Did you ever want to meet people from Russia, China, North Korea and really sit down and just really, really, openly talk and learn.
There are so many "Did You Ever?" that comes to mind that I can't list them all. And many of them would never be realized and some may viewed as just stupid. And if I were rich I'd share it with those who needed it so I'd never be rich, and so on, and so on. And I guess of the "Did You Ever?", there is a number one "Did You Ever?" I really wanted to do:
Did you ever want to go back to Vietnam? Absolutely. I think of Vietnam all the time. Will it make a difference in my life if I go back? I don't know but I sure hoped I'd get that chance. I always wanted to go there with my son who was adopted from Korea. For some reason I have always thought it would bring some closure for me. It would also be an experience both of us would cherish and he and I have had this quiet connection regarding Vietnam. I suspect I'll never have that opportunity.
Well, it's time to get some ZZZZZZZZZZsss and I hope that tomorrow I can lighten up some. It seems I have been on such a downward spiral and so sad for a very long time. I just can't seem to shake it. I guess it's just another one of those "Did You Evers?"
Good Night -
Thursday, December 30, 2010
New Years Eve - December 31, 1970
It will be New Years Eve tomorrow and on that day it will have been 40 years since I landed in Vietnam. And although it has been 40 years, it remains so much of me. The flight to Vietnam was via Airlift International from California to Alaska, Japan and finally Bien Hoa. The stop in Japan was the longest and one where we saw retuning soldiers. I remember them and us as being quiet. Most of them had their jungle fatigues on and they were really worn out, dirty and much different looking than our new fatigues. And even though I knew these were young men they seemed so much older than their years.
After landing in Vietnam we remained seated on the plane as some type of crew came on board with camera’s and lights filming. A GI screamed out that the plane could be attacked which started a mad rush to the open forward cabin door. I seem to remember the terminal being open with ceiling fans and it just being hot. After processing at the airbase we went via bus to Long Binh for in-processing. I remember looking out the open, wire covered, windows of the bus at this strange place that was hot, had strange smells, music, the Mama-san’s with their hats, etc. It was such a different world.
When we in-processed we had to brush our teeth with that gritty tubed material at an outside “cattle looking” trough. I seem to remember a Sergeant saying something like ‘You won’t know when you’ll get to see a Dentist again.” There was also a sign in both English and Vietnamese saying not to drink the non-potable water. What the hell did that mean? I know several others beside myself who did take a small drink. We were thirsty. Also, It didn’t’ take long to realize that everything was both in English and Vietnamese. Later that afternoon we finished our in-processing and we were pretty much free to wander a small area. We ate at the mess hall that had a sign “Alice’s Restaurant” and checked out everything we could.
During this short period of time friendships were established between total strangers. We banded together in small groups as we explored everything we could, laughed and made fun of things each other did, or reactions. We shared information between each small group about what we found, saw, heard, rumors, etc. We seem to go from being young soldiers to just young teenagers, 20 year olds away at school or camp. I suspect to an onlooker it would never appear we were going into a war. And as day turned into night we eventually all went to our assigned hooch to call it a night.
Then, in the middle of the night, we heard the gunshots and weapons going off. It was dark and no one knew what to do. A guy fell from the top bunk and I believe his nose was bleeding. It was 20-30 young men scared, not knowing what to do. Then somehow, someway we found out it was midnight and the local GI’s were shooting off rounds of ammo, rifles, etc. celebrating the coming of New Years. I think we all may have felt a little embarrassed but I think it was then we truly realized we were in a war zone.
The following morning, January 1, we started getting our orders. As our new found friends left one or more at a time, we said short good-byes and to me it felt like I was losing a very close and dear friend. I have always found this a very sad time in the Service, but it has left me full of wonderful memories. I don’t know how to explain how one can just meet a person and have this friendship/bond established so quickly. I have experienced primarily in the Service, especially in Vietnam. I felt so sad when we all parted ways. I still struggle with this as I want to see that person again, to share memories and our friendship yet I don’t even remember their name. I spoke with a counselor at the Vet Center and he tried to explain this all to me but I still have an intense struggle inside of me and such sadness.
I think that this next year I need to focus on just how wonderful it was to have met these young men and just remember those crazy, unpredictable moments we shared and how fortunate I am that our paths crossed. Not everyone can have an experience such as this.
So, to my brothers, I pass off warm thoughts of friendships past. I’m thankful that we shared friendships, even if only for a brief time. Please know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers.
Monday, December 20, 2010
U S Embassy Attack - 1971
A coworker just came back today to work. She took a trip that included a stop in Cambodia and she brought back small gifts. She gave me a wood bookmark with a metal Elephant emblem on it. Hearing of her taking this trip and now her return brings back memories from Vietnam.
In 1971 there was an attack at the U S Embassy in Cambodia. The soldiers (Marines I believe) were playing some type of team sport for recreation I believe and an attack took place where a number of service men were injured and I believe some were killed. Although later it would be said the wounded were medivac'd to a hospital in Saigon, many (most?) of them were sent to the 24th Evacuation Hospital in Long Binh. I don't remember the numbers or if they were all sent to us, just that there was a large number of incoming wounded. The emergency room and support staff went to work and I remember the ER being full of wounded with more coming in. I was to get information from one of the Marines and get armband on him, etc. I tried to speak to him but he refused to give me any information. He would not give me his name, rank or anything. His superior who was either enlisted or an officer laying on another litter close to him. He was also being treated. He basically raised his voice and told him (ordered him) to answer me. If I remember correctly he told this young soldier he was in an Army Hospital and we were soldiers and Americans. The young Marine then gave me what I needed. Other than that I remember the mad rush and work being done by all the hospital staff and, of course, blood and cut off clothing everywhere. I also remember bits of pieces of what these young men's stories of what they were doing and the surprise attack.
It seems the littlest thing will bring a memory back. For these you men I again wonder what happened to them, their lives,etc. I also get mad at myself because I can't remember everything that happened, was said or more about these young men. Actually, I feel this way about my entire time in Vietnam. I know this may sound very strange but I'm afraid I'll forget.
All I can say right now is that my brothers are in my heart and mind and prayers and you are not forgotten.
In 1971 there was an attack at the U S Embassy in Cambodia. The soldiers (Marines I believe) were playing some type of team sport for recreation I believe and an attack took place where a number of service men were injured and I believe some were killed. Although later it would be said the wounded were medivac'd to a hospital in Saigon, many (most?) of them were sent to the 24th Evacuation Hospital in Long Binh. I don't remember the numbers or if they were all sent to us, just that there was a large number of incoming wounded. The emergency room and support staff went to work and I remember the ER being full of wounded with more coming in. I was to get information from one of the Marines and get armband on him, etc. I tried to speak to him but he refused to give me any information. He would not give me his name, rank or anything. His superior who was either enlisted or an officer laying on another litter close to him. He was also being treated. He basically raised his voice and told him (ordered him) to answer me. If I remember correctly he told this young soldier he was in an Army Hospital and we were soldiers and Americans. The young Marine then gave me what I needed. Other than that I remember the mad rush and work being done by all the hospital staff and, of course, blood and cut off clothing everywhere. I also remember bits of pieces of what these young men's stories of what they were doing and the surprise attack.
It seems the littlest thing will bring a memory back. For these you men I again wonder what happened to them, their lives,etc. I also get mad at myself because I can't remember everything that happened, was said or more about these young men. Actually, I feel this way about my entire time in Vietnam. I know this may sound very strange but I'm afraid I'll forget.
All I can say right now is that my brothers are in my heart and mind and prayers and you are not forgotten.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Veterans Day 2010 - Part 2
I wanted to go back to Veterans Day as a follow-up. I did as I had planned that day and went to Mass around 8:15 a.m. I became very rattled at first and there were a larger number of people (possibly 50 or so) more than I expected. And then, since the Parish has a grade school, the school children were being led in by their teachers. I was almost panicked, forcing tears not to flow especially when I saw a statue of a soldier saluting on the Alter.
After the children were seated I went in and sat in a fairly empty pew with a couple people in the pew behind and in front of me. When the Priest was walking in the Children sang a song about America. Mass then started and the Priest came down to where the children were and asked them about soldiers and what they do, how they protect us, etc. He also named all the Branches of Service. Soon Mass continued and at Communion he asked all active duty and veterans to stand. The children all turned to look at us. I was such a mess and could not control the tears no matter how I tried. They then asked us to go get Communion first. Then before Mass ended we again had to stand up. Young children then brought us a small American Flag and then a first grader brought each of us a hand made card for Veterans Day and my tears got worse and I was almost sobbing. To make it worse I brought no tissue or handkerchief. At that time, with the Children still looking at us, they all applauded.
It has been 40 years since I first went into the service and this was the only time I had ever received a Veterans Day card or recognition. I was, and still am, overwhelmed. The following day when I went to work I told a Vietnam Veteran who I know only a little about the day and told him that if I would die now my life would feel complete.
Tears come to my eyes as I enter this post and words cannot express how moved I was and continue to be by this experience. I will never forget that day.
After the children were seated I went in and sat in a fairly empty pew with a couple people in the pew behind and in front of me. When the Priest was walking in the Children sang a song about America. Mass then started and the Priest came down to where the children were and asked them about soldiers and what they do, how they protect us, etc. He also named all the Branches of Service. Soon Mass continued and at Communion he asked all active duty and veterans to stand. The children all turned to look at us. I was such a mess and could not control the tears no matter how I tried. They then asked us to go get Communion first. Then before Mass ended we again had to stand up. Young children then brought us a small American Flag and then a first grader brought each of us a hand made card for Veterans Day and my tears got worse and I was almost sobbing. To make it worse I brought no tissue or handkerchief. At that time, with the Children still looking at us, they all applauded.
It has been 40 years since I first went into the service and this was the only time I had ever received a Veterans Day card or recognition. I was, and still am, overwhelmed. The following day when I went to work I told a Vietnam Veteran who I know only a little about the day and told him that if I would die now my life would feel complete.
Tears come to my eyes as I enter this post and words cannot express how moved I was and continue to be by this experience. I will never forget that day.
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