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Thank You To All Who Have Served Our Country And Kept Our Children Safe
Posted on 05/25/2006 3:05:21 PM PDT by redrock
I had done everything I could to save his life.
We had gotten into a fire-fight with some N.V.A. unit somewhere near the border with Laos. (hell...let's be real...we were caught by surprise). Co.'s A and C, along with some attached South Vietnamese troops, had been ambushed along a border trail that we patrolled...and we were getting the stuffing knocked out of us. I had 22 patients in the first 1/2 hour...and they seemed to be coming in regularly. ( I served as a Medic). Most were minor wounds...but then they brought in Ricky.
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I first met Ricky when we both arrived 'in country' about the same time. Both of us were from the Los Angeles area..and both of us surfed...so it was kinda natural that we became friends. We would spend hours talking to each other about which beach had the best waves...and the best looking girls. He always swore that Newport had the best of both...while I naturally thought the waves, and girls, were better around Santa Monica. We would talk about music (we both agreed that Johnny Cash was one of the best)...and about playing guitar. Both of us tho....wanted nothing more than to get out of Vietnam alive....and head to Australia because we both agreed that the BEST was there.
Like me, Ricky was a reluctant soldier. Neither of us were very good at drill....(hated it...waste of time) and both of us felt a natural reluctance to blindly obey orders. But we did our jobs as best we could.
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A mortar round had taken off the lower part of his right leg...just above the knee. He also had taken two rounds in the shoulder. Blood was shooting out of his torn leg...and he was in immense pain. I got some morphine into him....and then tried to stem the flow of blood. His femoral artery had been torn and had retracted into his thigh. There was nothing I could do but reach into his thigh and try and find the artery before he bled out. Working in his thigh was like working with hamburger...it was so shredded. And each time I moved my hand...it would increase the apprehension even more...and that would increase the pain. (note to those who don't know...pain medication works best when you are calm....and doesn't work very well when you are stressed.) The other Medic, Stan, was working on the shoulder wounds at the same time.
I finally found the artery..and clamped it off..and I tried to take a few moments to assess his entire situation.
He was failing.
He was dying.....and I couldn't see why.
Stan had done a awesome job getting the wounds in his shoulder to stop bleeding and had started plasma. I knew that he has lost a lot of blood....but he should be rebounding on the vital signs. But his blood pressure kept dropping.
There comes a time when you KNOW that you're going to die...and Ricky had arrived at that time.
He looked at me and tried to smile...but couldn't.
"Guess you're gonna have to surf for me...ok???"
I tried to tell him that he would be ok...but he knew.
He said that to let his mom know that he did ok...and to let her know that he would see her later.
And then he said..."Funny...No one will even remember my name."...and then he quietly cried out for "Momma"...and passed on to the next world in my arms.
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We later found out that the reason he died is that one of the rounds that he had taken in his shoulder has broken off some bone...and that bone had cut the arteries near his heart. He bled to death internally. There was nothing Stan or myself could have done. But it has never stopped the guilt in either of us.
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After the War...I took some of my pictures of Ricky that I had taken...to his parents in Southern California. We became friends...and to this day I talk to his brother and sisters at least once a year. His parents passed away in 1997 in a car crash.
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In a few days it will be MEMORIAL DAY. A day where the people of the United States pledge to remember those who gave their all. A day that had been set aside to remember all the sacrifice....and all the pain...and all the death that has kept this Nation safe.
It is NOT about a three day weekend.
It is NOT about picnic's and barbecue's.
It IS about this Nation keeping it's word.
It IS about remembering the 'Ricky's' in our past who gave up their future so everyone could be Free.
I guess the question is...can YOU give up one day for them????
We have a Wall replica in town and there is a service there every year.
I'll be there; we'll remember.
When he got his B-17 shot up, he was so far over East Germany he had no choice but to keep flying east. Yes, the Russians were our allies; nevertheless, his crew was kept in a hut for close to 6 months and interrogated almost daily about the details of their aircraft construction and operation.
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I too have memories and don't have the words to share them. But, I will be at Arlington National Cemetery on Sunday to see my Dad's final resting place again.
I know that I will never forget the first time he saw me wearing my "butter bars" when I visited him at Brooke Medical Center the day I graduated OTS.
The look on his face when he saw me and his effort to sit up straighter and smile meant so much. He landed on Kiska in "the big one", was in Korea and still on active duty at the start of VN.
I miss him and will take this opportunity to honor his life and his service.
Thank you to you and your family for placing the flags on the graves. Please let your family know how much I appreciate that you do this. Two of my Uncle's are buried at Calverton Cemetery. My Dad is buried in Pinelawn, LI National Cemetery, and I will go there on Monday. Every year when I go, as I drive in and see all the flags, I cry. Bless all of our Veterans.
CMB BUMP
I remember my Uncle Thomas Hushbeck who died 5 days after the Bataan Death March in the Prison Camp from an infection of some kind. He is buried in the Philippines. Also my father who didn't die in WWII, but spent a year in the hospital from a plane crash - one of 3 he was in. He suffered physical pain from the injuries his entire life. He was sad in his last days of all the freedoms we are giving up so easily, after all they had sacrificed.
"THINGS YOU DIDN'T DO"
Remember the day I borrowed your brand new car and I dented it?
I thought you'd kill me, but you didn't.
And remember the time I dragged you to the beach, and you said it would rain, and it did?
I thought you'd say, "I told you so." But you didn't.
Do you remember the time I flirted with all the guys to make you jealous, and you were?
I thought you'd leave me, but you didn't.
Do you remember the time I spilled strawberry pie all over your car rug?
I thought you'd hit me, but you didn't.
And remember the time I forgot to tell you the dance was formal and you showed up in jeans?
I thought you'd drop me, but you didn't.
Yes, there were lots of things you didn't do,
But you put up with me, and you loved me, and you protected me.
There were lots of things I wanted to make up to you when you returned from Viet Nam.
But you didn't.
(by Dr. LEO BUSCAGLIA)
Fallen Soldier
A Soldier has fallen
He will not be forgotten
His spirit dwells in those
Whose lives he touched
He has lead us
He has taught us
He has shown us the way
He gave us all of himself
Because he was made that way
He gave birth to an idea
That will never go away
He did this all
To save us some day
As all heroes do
by CW3 Roque Gonzalez
Freedom
It is the soldier, not the reporter,
who has given us the Freedom of the press.
It is the soldier, not the poet,
who has given us Freedom of speech.
It is the soldier, not the campus organizer,
who has given us the Freedom to demonstrate.
It is the soldier, who serves beneath the Flag,
who salutes the Flag,
whose coffin is draped by the Flag,
who allows the protester to burn the Flag.
It is the soldier, not the politician,
who has given his blood, his body, his life,
who has given us these FREEDOMS.
Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC
THIS IS A TRIBUTE TO ALL OUR MISSING IN ACTION
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It's 'funny' that the question is,
"Will they remember..."
when the response is,
"How could we ever forget...."
excellent
Thank you for being there for him. As I am thankful for those who were with my son. Bless you all.
Hopefully we will do that before the next time he comes up for reelection. If we restart the recall campaign, we'll have to make sure that RAT of what we call a "governor" will be kicked out of office in November...that way we won't have another RAT appointed in his place.
If that doesn't work...we'll vote him out in '10. Ugh I don't think AZ (or anyone else) can stomach another 4 years of him!
Or is it the day the beach resorts kick into high gear for the summer season, the day the strand is covered by fish-belly white people basting themselves in coconut oil, the day the off-season rates end and the weekend you can't get in a seaside seafood restaurant with anything less than a one hour wait.
Or is it one of the biggest shopping center sales days of the year, a day when hunting for a parking space is the prime sport for the holiday stay-at-homers?
Or is it the weekend when more people will kill themselves on the highways than any other weekend and Highway Patrol troopers work overtime picking up the pieces?
I think the men and women who died for us would understand what we do with their day. I hope they would, because if they wouldn't, if they would have insisted that it be a somber, respectful day of remembrance, then we have blown it and dishonored their sacrifice.
I knew some of those who died, and the guys I knew would have understood.
They liked a sunny beach and a cold beer and a hot babe in a black bikini, too. They would have enjoyed packing the kids, the inflatable rafts, the coolers, and the suntan lotion in the car and heading for the lake. They would have enjoyed staying at home and cutting the grass and getting together with some friends and cooking some steaks on the grill, too.
But they didn't get the chance. They blew up in the Marine Barracks in Beirut and died in the oily waters of the Persian Gulf. They caught theirs at the airstrip in Grenada in the little war everyone laughed at. They bought the farm in the I Drang Valley and on Heartbreak Ridge, Phu Tai and at Hue. They froze at the Chosin Reservoir and were shot at the Pusan Perimeter. They drowned in the surf at Omaha Beach or fell in the fetid jungles of Guadalcanal. They died in the ice and snow of the Bulge and the Vosges Mountains. They were at the Somme and at San Juan Hill and at Gettysburg and at Cerro Gordo and at Valley Forge.
They couldn't be here with us this weekend, but I think they would understand that we don't spend the day in tears and heart-wrenching memorials. They wouldn't want that. Grief is not why they died. They died so we could go fishing. They died so another father could hold his laughing little girl over the waves. They died so another father could toss a baseball to his son in their backyard while the charcoal is getting white. They died so another buddy could drink a beer on his day off. They died so a family could get in the station wagon and go shopping and maybe get some ice cream on the way home.
They won't mind that we have chosen their day to have our first big outdoor party of the year. But they wouldn't mind, either, if we took just a second and thought about them.
Some will think of them formally, of course. Wreaths will be laid in small, sparsely attended ceremonies in military cemeteries and at monuments at state capitols and in small town's squares. Flags will fly over the graves, patriotic words will be spoken and a few people there will probably feel a little anger that no more people showed up. They'll think no one else remembers.
But we do remember. We remember Smitty and Chico, and Davey and the guys who died. We remember the deal we made: If we buy it, we said, drink a beer for me.
I'll do it for you, guys. I'll drink that beer for you today, and I'll sit on that beach for you, and I'll check out the girls for you and, just briefly, I'll think of you. I won't let your memory spoil the trip but you'll be on that sunny beach with me today.
I will not mourn your deaths this Memorial Day, my friends. Rather, I'll celebrate the life you gave me.
This Bud's for you, brother!
-Author Unknown-
I want to thank you and your family for honoring our veterans by placing flags. I just lost my Dad on April 1st and he is in Calverton. I would like to hope you might be the ones to place his flag. I cannot go there yet. I can't bear it. God bless you and all our servicemen and women, past and present.
I know my Dad is at the Veterans Cemetary in Northern Nevada outside of Reno. It was hard to go back and see him. The first time I cried all the way there. Thank you for all your Dad did.
Thank you for your reply. Hopefully in a few months I can get to visit him. He was WWII/Korea Vet and I miss him something awful.
good luck
My Dad too, WWII and Korea. It is part of what started me on the path to adopting. All the kids out there that will never know the love of a parent. I have been so blessed with 2. My Mom, who is still living was in the Army Corp
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