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Several hours
after "Chief" was wounded and med evaced
out, we were walking down another trail when our point man again surprised
two NVA soldiers lounging beside the trail. He killed both before they
could return fire. They each carried AK-47s made in China. One of the
rifles was hit by a bullet in the stock, shattering the wood. The other one
was in perfect condition. Since most Marines had their own weapons to
carry, I carried the undamaged AK-47 for several days until we got back off
the operation. I then relinquished it to Capt. RIPLEY at the CP for
disposal.
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The grunt in the foreground
is me. This photo was taken several minutes after the NVA soldiers were
killed.
Also note the gear I have on.
The pouch on my right, below the rifle stock, is a 1st aid kit which I
modified to carry my Kodak Instamatic camera. The camera was wrapped in a
plastic bag to protect it from moisture when not in use. I also have a
pouch to carry 2 clips to my .45 automatic pistol
(which is hidden by the rifle stock). The case on my left is my field
medical kit, which contained mainly battle dressings, but also had some
medical instruments (hemostats, scalpel, etc.), syringes, Demerol, morphine
syrettes, salt tablets, malaria pills, etc.
Even
though corpsmen were considered non-combatants, most of us made it a point
to know how to effectively use all the weapons we came into contact with in
the field. This knowledge could mean the difference between life and death
to us and our fellow grunts when things got "hairy".
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The next day
we were in the hills again. It was foggy and raining. We were walking along
a trail when our point man rounded a corner and surprised some NVA. While fleeing
from us they opened up with their AK-47s.
The point man, Private Robert HICE, was shot in the left side of his
chest. When I got to him he had blood gushing out from the wound. I used
one hand to put pressure on the wound while opening a battle dressing with
my teeth. He informed me he was dying. I encouraged him to hang in there,
we were going to get him out and he would be fine. I kept offering him
words of encouragement, but he was bleeding heavily from his wound and
getting weaker. After I had applied several more battle dressings he looked
up at me, smiled, and said "Thanks for trying, Doc". Those were
his last words. Due to the weather no helicopters could get to our
position. He was wrapped in his poncho and we carried him out. Later that
evening we met up with a convoy, which took us back to Payable.
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