I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for their service to Veterans. Many of us are here today due to diligence in performing their duties both on the battlefield and in the hospital wards. I thank and salute each of them.
By Linda Schwartz
The bloody 10-day assault in May of 1969 on a North Vietnamese position called Hill 937 quickly became known as the Battle of Hamburger Hill because of the high fatality rate and sheer carnage, which troops compared to a meat grinder. Though American infantry troops succeeded in capturing the heavily fortified hill, the position was of little strategic value and was abandoned soon after the battle. Air Force nurse Linda Schwartz, 24, attended the wounded as they arrived at Tachikawa Air Base, west of Tokyo, during the battle. The following is her story:
"One night we were urgently called to our hospital because C-441 medevac flights were streaming in with overflow wounded that other units could not take in. Over the next several days, we treated scores of soldiers and Marines; by the end of the battle more than 500 had been killed or seriously injured. There were so many casualties that the mess hall was turned into a triage area. When I looked down the hallway, it was like something out of a movie. At first I could just make out the silhouettes of soldiers, almost all of them barely able to hold themselves upright, slowing moving along with their arms strung across the shoulders of other men. Some of them should have been on litters, but there weren't enough. As they got closer, I could see that the men were covered from head to toe with mud and bloody field dressings. Two in particular I can see in my mind's eye to this day. Young kids...very young...with shrapnel wounds. One of the two was silent; the other guy spoke for them both. I asked them to wait while I finished preparing their beds, but they just collapsed together on one unmade bed, too exhausted to keep standing.
'Take care of my buddy, take care of my buddy,' said the one who could still talk.
I turned to the soldier who hadn't said a word and noticed he had a chest tube in place with no seal to prevent his lung form collapsing. It was a nightmare scenario, because we didn't have the right equipment or respirators to help him, and he was already going in and out of consciousness. Another nurse came over, and our faces must have given us away.
'Is he going to make it?' the talking soldier asked.
I still remember his tired eyes. Now, when he thought he'd gotten his buddy to safety, he suddenly realized how serious things were.
'Definitely!' the other nurse and I replied, but in truth we were praying to God that he would make it, and I think his buddy knew that.
That's when I saw true bravery. Tenderly, the soldier held his buddy's hand and whispered to him that they had made it, that we would take care of him and that everything would be OK. It was that night that I realized I would never return to being a civilian nurse again, that this was where I wanted to be.
Linda Schwartz retired as a major in 1980 and became assistant secretary of Veterans Affairs in the VA's Office of Policy and Planning.
BadFisherman.11 wrote:
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for their service to Veterans. Many of us are here today due to diligence in performing their duties both on the battlefield and in the hospital wards. I thank and salute each of them.
By Linda Schwartz
The bloody 10-day assault in May of 1969 on a North Vietnamese position called Hill 937 quickly became known as the Battle of Hamburger Hill because of the high fatality rate and sheer carnage, which troops compared to a meat grinder. Though American infantry troops succeeded in capturing the heavily fortified hill, the position was of little strategic value and was abandoned soon after the battle. Air Force nurse Linda Schwartz, 24, attended the wounded as they arrived at Tachikawa Air Base, west of Tokyo, during the battle. The following is her story:
"One night we were urgently called to our hospital because C-441 medevac flights were streaming in with overflow wounded that other units could not take in. Over the next several days, we treated scores of soldiers and Marines; by the end of the battle more than 500 had been killed or seriously injured. There were so many casualties that the mess hall was turned into a triage area. When I looked down the hallway, it was like something out of a movie. At first I could just make out the silhouettes of soldiers, almost all of them barely able to hold themselves upright, slowing moving along with their arms strung across the shoulders of other men. Some of them should have been on litters, but there weren't enough. As they got closer, I could see that the men were covered from head to toe with mud and bloody field dressings. Two in particular I can see in my mind's eye to this day. Young kids...very young...with shrapnel wounds. One of the two was silent; the other guy spoke for them both. I asked them to wait while I finished preparing their beds, but they just collapsed together on one unmade bed, too exhausted to keep standing.
'Take care of my buddy, take care of my buddy,' said the one who could still talk.
I turned to the soldier who hadn't said a word and noticed he had a chest tube in place with no seal to prevent his lung form collapsing. It was a nightmare scenario, because we didn't have the right equipment or respirators to help him, and he was already going in and out of consciousness. Another nurse came over, and our faces must have given us away.
'Is he going to make it?' the talking soldier asked.
I still remember his tired eyes. Now, when he thought he'd gotten his buddy to safety, he suddenly realized how serious things were.
'Definitely!' the other nurse and I replied, but in truth we were praying to God that he would make it, and I think his buddy knew that.
That's when I saw true bravery. Tenderly, the soldier held his buddy's hand and whispered to him that they had made it, that we would take care of him and that everything would be OK. It was that night that I realized I would never return to being a civilian nurse again, that this was where I wanted to be.
Linda Schwartz retired as a major in 1980 and became assistant secretary of Veterans Affairs in the VA's Office of Policy and Planning.
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for ... (
show quote)
another gr8 one bf
thankyou for your service sir
semper fi
thx 2 all who gave some and they who gave all
BadFisherman.11 wrote:
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for their service to Veterans. Many of us are here today due to diligence in performing their duties both on the battlefield and in the hospital wards. I thank and salute each of them.
By Linda Schwartz
The bloody 10-day assault in May of 1969 on a North Vietnamese position called Hill 937 quickly became known as the Battle of Hamburger Hill because of the high fatality rate and sheer carnage, which troops compared to a meat grinder. Though American infantry troops succeeded in capturing the heavily fortified hill, the position was of little strategic value and was abandoned soon after the battle. Air Force nurse Linda Schwartz, 24, attended the wounded as they arrived at Tachikawa Air Base, west of Tokyo, during the battle. The following is her story:
"One night we were urgently called to our hospital because C-441 medevac flights were streaming in with overflow wounded that other units could not take in. Over the next several days, we treated scores of soldiers and Marines; by the end of the battle more than 500 had been killed or seriously injured. There were so many casualties that the mess hall was turned into a triage area. When I looked down the hallway, it was like something out of a movie. At first I could just make out the silhouettes of soldiers, almost all of them barely able to hold themselves upright, slowing moving along with their arms strung across the shoulders of other men. Some of them should have been on litters, but there weren't enough. As they got closer, I could see that the men were covered from head to toe with mud and bloody field dressings. Two in particular I can see in my mind's eye to this day. Young kids...very young...with shrapnel wounds. One of the two was silent; the other guy spoke for them both. I asked them to wait while I finished preparing their beds, but they just collapsed together on one unmade bed, too exhausted to keep standing.
'Take care of my buddy, take care of my buddy,' said the one who could still talk.
I turned to the soldier who hadn't said a word and noticed he had a chest tube in place with no seal to prevent his lung form collapsing. It was a nightmare scenario, because we didn't have the right equipment or respirators to help him, and he was already going in and out of consciousness. Another nurse came over, and our faces must have given us away.
'Is he going to make it?' the talking soldier asked.
I still remember his tired eyes. Now, when he thought he'd gotten his buddy to safety, he suddenly realized how serious things were.
'Definitely!' the other nurse and I replied, but in truth we were praying to God that he would make it, and I think his buddy knew that.
That's when I saw true bravery. Tenderly, the soldier held his buddy's hand and whispered to him that they had made it, that we would take care of him and that everything would be OK. It was that night that I realized I would never return to being a civilian nurse again, that this was where I wanted to be.
Linda Schwartz retired as a major in 1980 and became assistant secretary of Veterans Affairs in the VA's Office of Policy and Planning.
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for ... (
show quote)
Another great story Lon. Thanks for sharing it, and Thanks to all that served.
I too give my sincere thanks to all military, past and present. My wife had a cousin who was in Vietnam at that time of history and kept so much bottled up for so many years. Then one day he shared his story with my oldest son who then shared it with us. Then we understood why he kept quiet for so many years, yet telling someone did bring about a little healing.
THANKS TO ALL WHO SERVED AND SERVE!
saw1
Loc: nor cal Windsor
BadFisherman.11 wrote:
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for their service to Veterans. Many of us are here today due to diligence in performing their duties both on the battlefield and in the hospital wards. I thank and salute each of them.
By Linda Schwartz
The bloody 10-day assault in May of 1969 on a North Vietnamese position called Hill 937 quickly became known as the Battle of Hamburger Hill because of the high fatality rate and sheer carnage, which troops compared to a meat grinder. Though American infantry troops succeeded in capturing the heavily fortified hill, the position was of little strategic value and was abandoned soon after the battle. Air Force nurse Linda Schwartz, 24, attended the wounded as they arrived at Tachikawa Air Base, west of Tokyo, during the battle. The following is her story:
"One night we were urgently called to our hospital because C-441 medevac flights were streaming in with overflow wounded that other units could not take in. Over the next several days, we treated scores of soldiers and Marines; by the end of the battle more than 500 had been killed or seriously injured. There were so many casualties that the mess hall was turned into a triage area. When I looked down the hallway, it was like something out of a movie. At first I could just make out the silhouettes of soldiers, almost all of them barely able to hold themselves upright, slowing moving along with their arms strung across the shoulders of other men. Some of them should have been on litters, but there weren't enough. As they got closer, I could see that the men were covered from head to toe with mud and bloody field dressings. Two in particular I can see in my mind's eye to this day. Young kids...very young...with shrapnel wounds. One of the two was silent; the other guy spoke for them both. I asked them to wait while I finished preparing their beds, but they just collapsed together on one unmade bed, too exhausted to keep standing.
'Take care of my buddy, take care of my buddy,' said the one who could still talk.
I turned to the soldier who hadn't said a word and noticed he had a chest tube in place with no seal to prevent his lung form collapsing. It was a nightmare scenario, because we didn't have the right equipment or respirators to help him, and he was already going in and out of consciousness. Another nurse came over, and our faces must have given us away.
'Is he going to make it?' the talking soldier asked.
I still remember his tired eyes. Now, when he thought he'd gotten his buddy to safety, he suddenly realized how serious things were.
'Definitely!' the other nurse and I replied, but in truth we were praying to God that he would make it, and I think his buddy knew that.
That's when I saw true bravery. Tenderly, the soldier held his buddy's hand and whispered to him that they had made it, that we would take care of him and that everything would be OK. It was that night that I realized I would never return to being a civilian nurse again, that this was where I wanted to be.
Linda Schwartz retired as a major in 1980 and became assistant secretary of Veterans Affairs in the VA's Office of Policy and Planning.
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for ... (
show quote)
Thanks for the great story BF.
It is tough for those that didn't serve to understand the brotherhood we feel for other soldiers.
They don't have to be in the same unit or even in the same branch of the service yet we can feel for them and understand what they are goin through.
To us that are left, "We gave some." But Memorial Day is for those that "Gave All." May you rest in peace my brothers and sisters. 😪🙏
BadFisherman.11 wrote:
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for their service to Veterans. Many of us are here today due to diligence in performing their duties both on the battlefield and in the hospital wards. I thank and salute each of them.
By Linda Schwartz
The bloody 10-day assault in May of 1969 on a North Vietnamese position called Hill 937 quickly became known as the Battle of Hamburger Hill because of the high fatality rate and sheer carnage, which troops compared to a meat grinder. Though American infantry troops succeeded in capturing the heavily fortified hill, the position was of little strategic value and was abandoned soon after the battle. Air Force nurse Linda Schwartz, 24, attended the wounded as they arrived at Tachikawa Air Base, west of Tokyo, during the battle. The following is her story:
"One night we were urgently called to our hospital because C-441 medevac flights were streaming in with overflow wounded that other units could not take in. Over the next several days, we treated scores of soldiers and Marines; by the end of the battle more than 500 had been killed or seriously injured. There were so many casualties that the mess hall was turned into a triage area. When I looked down the hallway, it was like something out of a movie. At first I could just make out the silhouettes of soldiers, almost all of them barely able to hold themselves upright, slowing moving along with their arms strung across the shoulders of other men. Some of them should have been on litters, but there weren't enough. As they got closer, I could see that the men were covered from head to toe with mud and bloody field dressings. Two in particular I can see in my mind's eye to this day. Young kids...very young...with shrapnel wounds. One of the two was silent; the other guy spoke for them both. I asked them to wait while I finished preparing their beds, but they just collapsed together on one unmade bed, too exhausted to keep standing.
'Take care of my buddy, take care of my buddy,' said the one who could still talk.
I turned to the soldier who hadn't said a word and noticed he had a chest tube in place with no seal to prevent his lung form collapsing. It was a nightmare scenario, because we didn't have the right equipment or respirators to help him, and he was already going in and out of consciousness. Another nurse came over, and our faces must have given us away.
'Is he going to make it?' the talking soldier asked.
I still remember his tired eyes. Now, when he thought he'd gotten his buddy to safety, he suddenly realized how serious things were.
'Definitely!' the other nurse and I replied, but in truth we were praying to God that he would make it, and I think his buddy knew that.
That's when I saw true bravery. Tenderly, the soldier held his buddy's hand and whispered to him that they had made it, that we would take care of him and that everything would be OK. It was that night that I realized I would never return to being a civilian nurse again, that this was where I wanted to be.
Linda Schwartz retired as a major in 1980 and became assistant secretary of Veterans Affairs in the VA's Office of Policy and Planning.
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for ... (
show quote)
Yes, grateful and sending thanks!!!
BadFisherman.11 wrote:
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for their service to Veterans. Many of us are here today due to diligence in performing their duties both on the battlefield and in the hospital wards. I thank and salute each of them.
By Linda Schwartz
The bloody 10-day assault in May of 1969 on a North Vietnamese position called Hill 937 quickly became known as the Battle of Hamburger Hill because of the high fatality rate and sheer carnage, which troops compared to a meat grinder. Though American infantry troops succeeded in capturing the heavily fortified hill, the position was of little strategic value and was abandoned soon after the battle. Air Force nurse Linda Schwartz, 24, attended the wounded as they arrived at Tachikawa Air Base, west of Tokyo, during the battle. The following is her story:
"One night we were urgently called to our hospital because C-441 medevac flights were streaming in with overflow wounded that other units could not take in. Over the next several days, we treated scores of soldiers and Marines; by the end of the battle more than 500 had been killed or seriously injured. There were so many casualties that the mess hall was turned into a triage area. When I looked down the hallway, it was like something out of a movie. At first I could just make out the silhouettes of soldiers, almost all of them barely able to hold themselves upright, slowing moving along with their arms strung across the shoulders of other men. Some of them should have been on litters, but there weren't enough. As they got closer, I could see that the men were covered from head to toe with mud and bloody field dressings. Two in particular I can see in my mind's eye to this day. Young kids...very young...with shrapnel wounds. One of the two was silent; the other guy spoke for them both. I asked them to wait while I finished preparing their beds, but they just collapsed together on one unmade bed, too exhausted to keep standing.
'Take care of my buddy, take care of my buddy,' said the one who could still talk.
I turned to the soldier who hadn't said a word and noticed he had a chest tube in place with no seal to prevent his lung form collapsing. It was a nightmare scenario, because we didn't have the right equipment or respirators to help him, and he was already going in and out of consciousness. Another nurse came over, and our faces must have given us away.
'Is he going to make it?' the talking soldier asked.
I still remember his tired eyes. Now, when he thought he'd gotten his buddy to safety, he suddenly realized how serious things were.
'Definitely!' the other nurse and I replied, but in truth we were praying to God that he would make it, and I think his buddy knew that.
That's when I saw true bravery. Tenderly, the soldier held his buddy's hand and whispered to him that they had made it, that we would take care of him and that everything would be OK. It was that night that I realized I would never return to being a civilian nurse again, that this was where I wanted to be.
Linda Schwartz retired as a major in 1980 and became assistant secretary of Veterans Affairs in the VA's Office of Policy and Planning.
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for ... (
show quote)
Got used to your funny posts then you post this and instead of laughing I am crying as I picture the two men.
These stories bring tears to the eyes of this old veteran
That was a sad story. The medics and medical staff saved so many. The ones they couldn’t save were probably the ones that they couldn’t forget.
BadFisherman.11 wrote:
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for their service to Veterans. Many of us are here today due to diligence in performing their duties both on the battlefield and in the hospital wards. I thank and salute each of them.
By Linda Schwartz
The bloody 10-day assault in May of 1969 on a North Vietnamese position called Hill 937 quickly became known as the Battle of Hamburger Hill because of the high fatality rate and sheer carnage, which troops compared to a meat grinder. Though American infantry troops succeeded in capturing the heavily fortified hill, the position was of little strategic value and was abandoned soon after the battle. Air Force nurse Linda Schwartz, 24, attended the wounded as they arrived at Tachikawa Air Base, west of Tokyo, during the battle. The following is her story:
"One night we were urgently called to our hospital because C-441 medevac flights were streaming in with overflow wounded that other units could not take in. Over the next several days, we treated scores of soldiers and Marines; by the end of the battle more than 500 had been killed or seriously injured. There were so many casualties that the mess hall was turned into a triage area. When I looked down the hallway, it was like something out of a movie. At first I could just make out the silhouettes of soldiers, almost all of them barely able to hold themselves upright, slowing moving along with their arms strung across the shoulders of other men. Some of them should have been on litters, but there weren't enough. As they got closer, I could see that the men were covered from head to toe with mud and bloody field dressings. Two in particular I can see in my mind's eye to this day. Young kids...very young...with shrapnel wounds. One of the two was silent; the other guy spoke for them both. I asked them to wait while I finished preparing their beds, but they just collapsed together on one unmade bed, too exhausted to keep standing.
'Take care of my buddy, take care of my buddy,' said the one who could still talk.
I turned to the soldier who hadn't said a word and noticed he had a chest tube in place with no seal to prevent his lung form collapsing. It was a nightmare scenario, because we didn't have the right equipment or respirators to help him, and he was already going in and out of consciousness. Another nurse came over, and our faces must have given us away.
'Is he going to make it?' the talking soldier asked.
I still remember his tired eyes. Now, when he thought he'd gotten his buddy to safety, he suddenly realized how serious things were.
'Definitely!' the other nurse and I replied, but in truth we were praying to God that he would make it, and I think his buddy knew that.
That's when I saw true bravery. Tenderly, the soldier held his buddy's hand and whispered to him that they had made it, that we would take care of him and that everything would be OK. It was that night that I realized I would never return to being a civilian nurse again, that this was where I wanted to be.
Linda Schwartz retired as a major in 1980 and became assistant secretary of Veterans Affairs in the VA's Office of Policy and Planning.
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for ... (
show quote)
They give so much of themselves.
BadFisherman.11 wrote:
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for their service to Veterans. Many of us are here today due to diligence in performing their duties both on the battlefield and in the hospital wards. I thank and salute each of them.
By Linda Schwartz
The bloody 10-day assault in May of 1969 on a North Vietnamese position called Hill 937 quickly became known as the Battle of Hamburger Hill because of the high fatality rate and sheer carnage, which troops compared to a meat grinder. Though American infantry troops succeeded in capturing the heavily fortified hill, the position was of little strategic value and was abandoned soon after the battle. Air Force nurse Linda Schwartz, 24, attended the wounded as they arrived at Tachikawa Air Base, west of Tokyo, during the battle. The following is her story:
"One night we were urgently called to our hospital because C-441 medevac flights were streaming in with overflow wounded that other units could not take in. Over the next several days, we treated scores of soldiers and Marines; by the end of the battle more than 500 had been killed or seriously injured. There were so many casualties that the mess hall was turned into a triage area. When I looked down the hallway, it was like something out of a movie. At first I could just make out the silhouettes of soldiers, almost all of them barely able to hold themselves upright, slowing moving along with their arms strung across the shoulders of other men. Some of them should have been on litters, but there weren't enough. As they got closer, I could see that the men were covered from head to toe with mud and bloody field dressings. Two in particular I can see in my mind's eye to this day. Young kids...very young...with shrapnel wounds. One of the two was silent; the other guy spoke for them both. I asked them to wait while I finished preparing their beds, but they just collapsed together on one unmade bed, too exhausted to keep standing.
'Take care of my buddy, take care of my buddy,' said the one who could still talk.
I turned to the soldier who hadn't said a word and noticed he had a chest tube in place with no seal to prevent his lung form collapsing. It was a nightmare scenario, because we didn't have the right equipment or respirators to help him, and he was already going in and out of consciousness. Another nurse came over, and our faces must have given us away.
'Is he going to make it?' the talking soldier asked.
I still remember his tired eyes. Now, when he thought he'd gotten his buddy to safety, he suddenly realized how serious things were.
'Definitely!' the other nurse and I replied, but in truth we were praying to God that he would make it, and I think his buddy knew that.
That's when I saw true bravery. Tenderly, the soldier held his buddy's hand and whispered to him that they had made it, that we would take care of him and that everything would be OK. It was that night that I realized I would never return to being a civilian nurse again, that this was where I wanted to be.
Linda Schwartz retired as a major in 1980 and became assistant secretary of Veterans Affairs in the VA's Office of Policy and Planning.
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for ... (
show quote)
BF: The other group that really sometimes gets a little shortchanged is the chopper crews who yank these troops away from further casualties, often while under intense enemy fire. They make scary touchdowns, are then stationary for a while, and then gotta withdraw while presenting an easy target. Too bad that many of these brave people sometimes are sacrificed as ya pointed out, for positions of little strategic value. Somebody in the rear looking to make a name for themselves ! ? !
BadFisherman.11 wrote:
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for their service to Veterans. Many of us are here today due to diligence in performing their duties both on the battlefield and in the hospital wards. I thank and salute each of them.
By Linda Schwartz
The bloody 10-day assault in May of 1969 on a North Vietnamese position called Hill 937 quickly became known as the Battle of Hamburger Hill because of the high fatality rate and sheer carnage, which troops compared to a meat grinder. Though American infantry troops succeeded in capturing the heavily fortified hill, the position was of little strategic value and was abandoned soon after the battle. Air Force nurse Linda Schwartz, 24, attended the wounded as they arrived at Tachikawa Air Base, west of Tokyo, during the battle. The following is her story:
"One night we were urgently called to our hospital because C-441 medevac flights were streaming in with overflow wounded that other units could not take in. Over the next several days, we treated scores of soldiers and Marines; by the end of the battle more than 500 had been killed or seriously injured. There were so many casualties that the mess hall was turned into a triage area. When I looked down the hallway, it was like something out of a movie. At first I could just make out the silhouettes of soldiers, almost all of them barely able to hold themselves upright, slowing moving along with their arms strung across the shoulders of other men. Some of them should have been on litters, but there weren't enough. As they got closer, I could see that the men were covered from head to toe with mud and bloody field dressings. Two in particular I can see in my mind's eye to this day. Young kids...very young...with shrapnel wounds. One of the two was silent; the other guy spoke for them both. I asked them to wait while I finished preparing their beds, but they just collapsed together on one unmade bed, too exhausted to keep standing.
'Take care of my buddy, take care of my buddy,' said the one who could still talk.
I turned to the soldier who hadn't said a word and noticed he had a chest tube in place with no seal to prevent his lung form collapsing. It was a nightmare scenario, because we didn't have the right equipment or respirators to help him, and he was already going in and out of consciousness. Another nurse came over, and our faces must have given us away.
'Is he going to make it?' the talking soldier asked.
I still remember his tired eyes. Now, when he thought he'd gotten his buddy to safety, he suddenly realized how serious things were.
'Definitely!' the other nurse and I replied, but in truth we were praying to God that he would make it, and I think his buddy knew that.
That's when I saw true bravery. Tenderly, the soldier held his buddy's hand and whispered to him that they had made it, that we would take care of him and that everything would be OK. It was that night that I realized I would never return to being a civilian nurse again, that this was where I wanted to be.
Linda Schwartz retired as a major in 1980 and became assistant secretary of Veterans Affairs in the VA's Office of Policy and Planning.
I dedicate this thread to all corpsmen/medics for ... (
show quote)
Thank you for posting this BF. Those folks went above and beyond often putting themselves in great danger to save the wounded.
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