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????
I always remember Eddie Frowner on Memorial Day besides the other days.
Thanks Redrock , I needed to have a real memorial day, this story brings it home
Thanks, Redrock.
Here's to Chad and Paul and my other fallen brothers.
Kit.
US Army, Afghanistan
OIF I
OEF VII
I thought the Russians were our allies at the time. Shouldn't he have been repatriated?
BTTT
BTTT
BTTT
Rock,
Great post. Welcome home Brother.
I too had a good friend by the name of Rick, while in the service.
We both played guitars, and were stationed together at two bases throughout our four years.
He was one of the best, and died within months after getting out of the Air Force. Car crash. (Your letter struck such a deep chord with me.)
Today our class will be commemorating all those who have died within the service of our country.
I will be thinking of both Ricks this morning.
God Bless!
Semper FI
Truely these fine men and women in uniform for the most part serve with honor. Like many at FR and elsewhere I treat each day as Memorial Day, in often rememberance of many of them over the many years that have had to pay the ultimate sacrifice as well as those WIA.
Thanks for the post. We all personally know someone who paid the ultimate price for our freedom.
Glad you kept your promises to your buddy.
Surfing for him and remembering Ricky's name.
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????
I could not put it better.
My Olive green chest has donned a host of great names: Kelly, Rosbeck, Dempsey, Holloway and a multitude of others that have etched my worn and weary smile on history`s mirror.
From a humble beginning, I have climbed to the summit. I have seen my family mature in the hottest of cold wars and have mixed my blood, sweat and tears with the brackish paddies of Nam Can and the crytal blue of Dong Ha.
Thus, I have paid the price of involvement, earned my badge of courage and come of age. On my durable wing I have leisurely soared through the thin humid skies over Ia Drang and my rotor wash has uncovered" Charlie" in the mangroves of Ca Mau.
From Soc Trang, Blackhorse,and LANE, I have flown and have sent my tracers slicing through the Asian dusk and dawn....stabbing at the elusive shadows that menace freedom. My rockets have given relief to my brothers-in-arms and brought smoke, flames and death to our enemies.
With keen vision and through my ingenuity I have found my enemy....the tyrant, the oppressor, who would deny his fellow man`s rights. I have guided the awesome terror of my cousins` shells to fix the fleeting, faceless guerilla.
On my back the Queen of Battle showed the fury of her long rifle. Together, through swamp and jungle, we have pursued, engaged and won.
The battle for democracy will go on until free men everywhere have won the age old conflict with forces of oppression, the shadows of darkness, the face of hate.
Whether at home or on foreign shores, I will be there....keeping my faith in God and Country....BECAUSE...........I AM ARMY AVIATION!
This was written in 1970 by Major Larry E. Joyce, Infantry, U.S. Army
Here's to LTC's Kilgore's "Perfect Surf!" and to the memory of the 1/9's loach pilots who never DEROS'd:
To fallen soldiers let us sing
Where no rockets fly nor bullets wing
Our broken brothers let us bring
To the Mansions of the Lord.
No more bleeding, no more fight
No prayers pleading through the night
Just divine embrace, eternal light
In the Mansions of the Lord.
Where no mothers cry and no children weep
We will stand and guard though the angels sleep
Through the ages safely keep
The Mansions of the Lord
Well said.
I wish I could be there for that this weekend!! Enjoy it for me, Just a Nobody!!
Give Concretebob a big hug for me when you see him!
Thank you, Kit, for your service to our Country...and my heartfelt thanks for your fallen brothers. It's a privilege to honor them this weekend.
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