I was on guard duty at night sitting behind the M60 machine gun and a couple of clackers (detonating devices) for claymore mines to my front. I also had my M16 because I really did not know how to fire the M60 in the dark. Tex (nickname of course) came to me to tell me he was going outside the perimeter so I would not fire him up. I did not ask any questions, usually people went outside the perimeter to have a BM as we did not like crap in our areas. A bit later L.A. (also a nickname, he was from the Los Angeles area) came also to tell me that he was going outside the perimeter. I was now suspicious of a clandestine meeting outside to perimeter to smoke some pot.

BANG, I heard the sound of a single gunshot and grabbed my M16. From the top of the hill, the Lieutenant yelled, FIRE! I was scared and not thinking so I let go with rock and roll (full automatic fire). Others began firing, soon everyone was firing. Then the LT (Lieutenant) ordered CEASE FIRE. All was quiet for a minute then to my front I heard groaning. I became excited that I may have shot an enemy troop. In the 101st when we got ‘body counts’ the soldier responsible for the ‘kill’ tore the Screaming Eagle patch off his uniform and put it in the mouth of the KIA (killed in action) as a psychological warfare technique (don’t mess with the 101st). If he died I wanted to put my unit patch in his mouth. Then the voice said, “Oh my leg.’ and Tex limped back into the perimeter. We got Tex to the top of the small hill and I began investigating his injuries crawling around in the dark with a flashlight with a red lens. The injury causing the most pain was an apparent bullet wound in his buttocks. There were other shrapnel looking injuries to the backs of his legs. I am now feeling REALLY BAD about firing him up. He was asking, “Doc, who shot me. Doc, who shot me.” I lied, “We are trying to figure that out now.”

A DUSTOFF was requested, they really did not want to fly at night, especially with no LZ (landing zone). We were in the jungle and no landing zone was close. They would have the use the Jungle Penetrator. To perform an extraction from the jungle, the helicopter would have to hover over the trees and let the Jungle Penetrator down on a hoist. The Jungle Penetrator had a heavy ball on the end and a heavy shaft with three seats that folded down for up to three soldiers to ride up to the helicopter. The Jungle Penetrator also had three heavy straps for seat belts the keep the soldier on the seats. To help helicopter to find us in the dark, the Lieutenant had a strobe light. The strobe light was attached to the end of a rifle and held as high as possible so as to be seen by the pilot. I was feeling very responsible for the wounding of Tex so insisted I was the person to hold up the strobe light. There I was in the jungle holding up this rifle and feeling very much like the Statue of Liberty, now a prominent target for any enemy nearby.

Eagle Dustoff arrived and lowered the Jungle Penetrator; we helped Tex onto the seat and put the strap around him and I indicated to the RTO (radio telephone operator) to have the Dustoff winch him up. The pilots did not like to hover any more that necessary as this was the most vulnerable position so instead of winching him up the helicopter went straight up with Tex riding on the Jungle Penetrator below. His injury was on his buttocks and I could hear him screaming all the way up over the deafening roar underneath the helicopter. L.A. never said a word about why he was outside the perimeter; he was not injured. The next day my replacement came; I had been 9 months in the field with my platoon. I gave him a brief orientation and some medical supplies and rode the resupply bird back that day. A better medic would have stayed with him a few days in the jungle, my approach to my own personal survival was to avoid all unnecessary exposure to combat.

The first thing I did when I got back to the rear was to go see Tex in the hospital. He told me they thought his sciatic nerve may be severed. There were multiple other minor injuries; the medical staff had told him he was hit by both M16 and AK47 fire (he was caught in a crossfire situation). He was being sent to Japan for surgical repair of his injuries. If his sciatic nerve could not be repaired he would lose the use of one leg. I felt bad about my part in wounding Tex for many years until our platoon reunion. Some of the guys told me they had seen Tex. I asked if he was able to walk; they said yes. I felt very relieved hearing this. Hw had what we called a ‘million dollar injury’, on that sent him home and maybe prevented a more serious combat injury if he had remained in Vietnam.

The moral of the story: Medics should not be on guard duty and should not have weapons, particularly if they are conscientious objectors. I would have been just fine without a weapon and the situation were ever bad enough there were weapons available from wounded soldiers. I had asked for a weapon out of fear.

Happiness Is A Warm Gun – The Beatles.