They
would be dirty, often very wet, often very hot, often they could not see 10
yards into the jungle in front of or behind themselves and in danger of
receiving enemy fire at any moment. At the end of the day they were still in
these horrid conditions and now they had to try to survive the night.
My
situation was different. We were often in great danger but, at the end of our
missions, we had a clean bed to sleep in, good food (lots of hamburgers) and
security of some kind...Or did we?
I
often thought that I would not trade my job for that of an infantry soldier for
anything.
As
Major Paul Bloomquist told me on my first day in Viet Nam, as we sat in a
downtown restaurant, "This is the
best war you will ever fight in. You get to fly around and get shot at and, if
you survive, you get to go downtown at night and eat a steak."
One
day we flew up to Bien Hoa to pick up patients and transport them back to
Saigon. The patients were not ready when we arrived and we shut the ship down
to wait.
I
was sitting on a skid and talking to walking wounded from the aid station. Most
showed some sign of the wounds they were recuperating from...bandages, crutches,
limps, etc. These were the infantry soldiers for which I had often felt so
sorry.
At
one point, one of wounded stood towards the front of the ship and while looking
up at the Plexiglas in front of where we sat but not looking at me he said,
"I would not have your job for all the money in the world."
I
guess we are all comfortable with what we know and are trained to do.
Not
kidding u,
Smartfella
Lagniappe: In 1966 I sent this story
to Reader’s Digest for publication. I expect to hear back from them any day now.
