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149
3 July 1966
Bravo 1/35th
Submitted by: Wilbur Robinson
(Chu Prong Massif/Ia Drang River)
We were engaged in an ambush, firefight at Chu Prong Massif/Ia Drang River near the Cambodian border. Approximately 15 or 20 of our men were killed and 120-130 of the NVA were killed.
We were stationed at Pleiku Province at that time.
489
3 July 1966
B 1/35th
Submitted by: Jim Smith
What I remember about Vietnam on the 3rd of July 1966
By Sp 4 James F Smith, Company B, 1st Bn. 35 Infantry, December 1965-October 1966
The 3rd platoon was on patrol. Two squads went one way and the other two squads went another. We were to meet up some time later somewhere as told. Lt. Sturdivant was the leader of our two squads. We were in fairly level terrain with some trees and a lot of low vegetation that would not let us see very far in either direction. While we were walking, the best that I could tell at the time, two or three VC exposed themselves momentarily, fired-off a few rounds, and quickly fled into the forest before any of us could fire back at them.
Lt. Sturdivant quickly got us online and we started toward the way that they had fled. We did not go far until the bullets started popping. Sgt. Garcia was my squad leader and he was doing his best to get me and my M-60 machine gun in place. Suddenly, he was shot right beside me. It has been 39 years since this time and I can't remember if I called for the medic or not, but I can still hear the words of the other Americans calling for the medic, Sometimes the VC would mimic these words to try to distract us. When the medic started over our way to try to help Sgt, Garcia, after exposing himself, he was shot. As I recall, he was the second man to go down. I know for sure I killed three VC with my M-60 and hopefully others that I did not see in the heavily wooded area.
Sgt. Garcia had gotten the machine gun crew a little too much ahead of the rest of our group, I thought at the time. The VC were picking us off one by one. Men were hollering and moaning from being wounded.
The most horrible thoughts that I have today, and for the past 39 years, is the voice I can still hear coming form a young man that had not been assigned to our unit very long. His name was Christopher E. Brooks. I can still near him today calling my names, "Smitty help me!" I knew at that time that if I changed positions it would have been death for me as well.
I took it on my own to dismantle the M-60 and scatter the parts so the VC would not be able to find them and use them at a later time.
We then backed-up closer to the rest of our men. I was able to get an M-16 from one of the dead Americans so that I could maneuver around better than if I had still been carrying the M-60. Tommy Giorgi said to me, "I see one" and I said, "Shoot him!" At this time Tommy exposed himself just enough that a bullet caught him in the right buttock and exited through the pelvic area. I cut off the bottom of my T-shirt and stuffed the exit wound. That was the last time I remember seeing Tommy that day. As the morning progressed, it was now around mid-day. I finally settled close to Sgt Totten, part of the FO team who was attached to us. He had access to a radio and was literally calling in artillery on our own position. It was breaking tops of trees right beside us. I remember telling him to keep it coming in because that was the only thing that was going to keep the enemy away until help could arrive.
The monsoon rains had started sometime during the battle. We were all wet and I literally made mud out of the dirt and smeared it over my face and exposed skin for camouflage. I stayed right next to Sgt. Totten for quite some time, maybe two hours or so. The activity started to slow down and there was only a shot heard every now and then. Me and Dale Colette got up and started walking around the area trying to help the wounded and gathering up weapons and ammunition, both enemy and American guns were collected. We piled them all together in one pile. You see, we thought the fight was over and we were just waiting for help to arrive to get us out.
While we were checking things out I remember seeing Lt. Sturdivant sitting against a tree, still alive with bullet holes all over his body. I tried to help him; but knew in my own mind that he would soon die. He told me two or three times, "Help me and I will make you a scene." This has never left my memory all these years and I have yet to know what he meant by this.
I saw one of my best buddies, William E Lewis, dead. He was one of my best buddies all the way from Fort Polk, LA., then to Hawaii, and on to Vietnam. Another was Sgt Joe E Johnston, whom I recall laying on his bask. He had a bullet hole in his forehead that ants were crawling all around.
Sgt. Stone was also killed, and after having seen so many of my comrades killed, I just lost control and began to cry. Dale slapped me and made me realize that this was not the time for that.
Shortly after the initial ambush, the other two squads, not far away, were also surrounded by the enemy and not able to do much. We thought since things had quieted down the VC had withdrawn. At this time Dale and I were not wounded.
Suddenly from behind us we could hear motors. Most of us that could stood up and motioned for them to come over our way. "This is where we are, come and get us out of here." We were all happy that help had finally arrived and we would be safe now. What we didn't know was that the VC were being patient and waiting for our relief to arrive. They could have shot us at any time they wanted to, but chose to wait until help came so they could kill even more Americans. The action started up again even fiercer then before.
I scrambled to get behind a tree while bullets were pecking the dirt right at my face and body. My right arm was hit at the wrist and the bullet went up, blowing out the top joint of my elbow. My arm was jerking uncontrollably. I had to grab it with my other hand to hold it still. At this time I realized that I could no longer defend myself, so I crawled and made it to an army personnel carrier. Once I got inside, someone gave me a shot of morphine, then "Boom"; the VC hit the APC with some sort of antitank weapon that dismantled it. I managed to get out and into another carrier. All the time I felt safer in one of these then I did on the ground, but the second one was hit also. "Boom" again, breaking off fragments of metal on the inside and sending them to several places in my body. Most were taken out later by the doctors that attended to me, except one piece that I am still carrying in my right hand. The APC caught on fire when it was hit. I saw John Dewey, who was burned badly, getting out. I heard him say, "I'm burnt, I'm burnt bad!" I could literally see the skin hanging from his arms.
Later I found that Tommy Giorgi had been in this one also and too had been badly burned. I did get some burns, but mostly shrapnel and metal fragments from the explosion. By this time word was being passed around that we had to get out or the VC were going to kill us all. I still felt safer in a carrier, so I managed to get into a third one. This time with men packed inside and hanging all over the outside. We were able to get to a landing zone where helicopters were waiting to pick us up. When we got in the air, I looked back at the area where we had been and saw A1E's and helicopter gunships pounding the whole area with white phosphorus.
I was carried a short distance by helicopter to a first aid station. There my clothes were removed and I was placed on a cot. From there I was flown to a larger hospital in Qui Nhon where the doctors cleaned my wounds and put my arm in a cast. I was then transferred to a hospital in Yokohama, Japan where they removed the cast, did my surgery, and tried to tie everything back together. There I regained my strength. My ETS was approaching, so from Yokohama I went to Oakland, CA and then finally home. I thank God to be alive today! Out of about 22 men, approximately eleven per squad, all were killed except six or seven and most of them were wounded; perhaps all of them were.
By the way, Tommy and Dale made it out as well and 39 years later, in 2005, I made contact with both. Tommy, carrying many scars, lives in his home state of New York and Dale, who was also wounded, lives in Tennessee.
I often wondered why we never received a second Purple Heart for the additional wounds received when the VC blew up the APC.
Respectfully prepared and submitted with the help of my wife Glenda Joyce Smith, January 2006.
491
3 July 1966
B 1/35th
Submitted by: Jim Barrett
Small portion of events, After Action Report of July 3, 1966 ( 41 years later )
My name is Jim Barrett, I was a member of the 1st platoon, B Co, 1/35th Inf, 3rd Bde, 25th Inf Div arriving there from jump school at the end of December 1965 until late January 1967 about 13 months on my first tour in Vietnam.
On Friday July 13, 2007 my wife called me on my cell phone to inform me that there was a message on our answering machine from a Rusty Scheewe from North Carolina that wanted me to call him, something about me being his RTO on July 3, 1966 when we were involved in a fierce battle with the NVA. I got home later that night and couldn't really make out all that he was saying due to a poor phone connection from one of our ends, to my answering machine. He was saying that he was our CO that day and asking if I was his RTO and to call him.
I couldn't place him or the name and I thought that I've never even heard the name Rusty Scheewe that I could remember. The next day Rusty called me before I got to him and he explained who he was and that he thought that I was his RTO that day. I told him that I was sorry that I didn't recall him and that I was sure I was the RTO for a new Lt. Nichols that had just taken over our platoon from Lt. Tom Barron. As we talked he too was new only a couple of days replacing Cpt. Crotty as our new company CO and at that time did not know or ever meet Lt. Nichols. He told me that he was severely wounded that day and also so was Lt Nichols who he also saw in the hospital, and later on even played cards with months later still not knowing they both came from B Co 1st 35th and both being wounded in the same fire fight. I said at times I didn't know who I was packin the radio for, it being so confusing with every thing going on because I was separated a couple of times from Lt Nichols. Rusty thinks I was carrying the radio for both at one time. I asked who all was I in contact with, every one seemed to be on the radio, Bn, Bde, LOH, FAC, Artillery and the Cav unit that went in with us.
Rusty and I exchanged information from that battle day and asked me to recall as much as possible the events of that day and write it up for information he is putting together for the 35th Inf Regiment 2007 reunion in Philadelphia. So the following is some of what I can piece together of that troubled day of battle, wounded men and our forever fallen Cacti Brothers.
That day July 3, 1966 was a typical morning out in the boonies of the Central Highlands on one of the many stages of Operation Pau Revere. As I remember we were late getting info as to what our AO was and what we were going to be doing. A little later word was that our 3rd platoon had made some contact, then a short time passed and we learned that the contact was heavy and they needed assistance, then becoming urgent and we were to hook up with a Cav unit who was going to rush transport us on their APCs to the 3rd platoon contact position ( Chu Pong Massif Ia Drang River area on the Cambodian border ) were they were pinned down under heavy fire.
Somehow I got tapped to be the RTO that day, not my normal, our squad of the 1st platoon usually pulled point duty and occasionally swapped carrying the radio taking turns. We loaded up on the Cav APCs and raced like hell to an area just short of the 3rd's position. As I remember we got off the APCs and started up a small narrow semi dirt trail in thick heavy vegetation jungle with the APCs following to the area that the 3rd plt got ambushed in.
I'm going to describe this area as how I saw and felt the layout. Take two circles and put one next to the other like clocks touching at the outer perimeter edges, one at 10 o'clock and the other at 4 o'clock. I will refer to circle 10 o'clock as circle # 1 and circle at 4 o'clock as circle # 2. I was carrying the radio along side of Lt Nichols basically we were at point coming into the circle area of circle #1 when we both came upon Sgt Joe Johnson KIA laying behind a large log at about the 5 o'clock position. We took cover for an instant and then proceeded to move thru the circle and to our left 30 to 40 feet to about the 9-10 o'clock position when all hell broke out all around us. We started taking what cover we could and returning fire. Again we got up and moved to our left now into what I call circle area #2 at about the 3-4 o'clock position, were taking rounds from all over it seems. We again move to our left and drift back to about the 6 o'clock position where we pretty much stayed returning fire back and forth, being pinned down at times. As I remember Lt Nichols and I were down behind 2 logs or fallen trees giving us some cover of protection. We were taking rounds from all angles hitting everything around us along with explosions front, rear and above. At one time I think Lt Nichols got up and moved to his right to some other 1st platoon members positions, we had pretty much been pinned down and firing out to our left mostly at the 9-10-11 o'clock position area where we were getting heavy fire from and a lot of movements and yelling in Vietnamese, then Lt Nichols coming back next to me for the radio. We both were back and forth on the radio yelling to be heard to whomever on the other end over all the noise. As I was firing off to the left I then think he got up again moving back and to his right. A short moment later 2 explosions went off above and behind me which showered me with dirt and tree fragments and everything else. I don't know where Lt Nichols went to; I think now we are separated. Soon after 3-4 APCs that I could see move into our circle #2. Off to my right about 15-20 feet I could see Joe Gilliland and Raymond Buzzard and another guy from our squad firing to their front right. About 10 feet to my left was Daniel J Donaldson lobbing away M79 rounds out to the 10 o'clock position where we kept seeing a lot of movement. We just kept firing in that area; it seemed like slow motion and high speed all at the same time.
Two APCs moved into position on my front left at about 8 o'clock vertical with rear door facing me about 30-40 feet out. The other APC moved almost straight out in front of me horizontal with its side facing me about 50-60 feet out. Soon after at about 20 feet to the left of the APC on my front left I saw movement between two large standing trees, there were 2 logs or trees on top of each other forming a cris cross or scissor like look. Three NVA became clear with the one in the middle jumping up several times real fast. We trade fire, with them bringing on a lot more, I tried to stay as low as possible knowing the radio was sticking up high for them to see. The radio took a couple of hits and the antenna was winged once and smacked me in the face but it was still working. I was trying to fire and yell at the same time on the radio hardly making out anything with all the confusion and noise.
What stuck out in my mind was the NVA in the middle of the three was so much bigger than the than the other two. He got up a couple of more times real fast and this time I let off a small burst from my M16 and I hit him high in the right shoulder and neck and possibly in the chest. He fell backward going into a sitting position, I never saw him or the other two again.
Some of the wounded were helped into that same APC off to the left a short time later and the intensity of everything seemed to pickup again. Just after that I was told to make contact with the Cav because they and Bn wanted us to pull out so they could call in air strikes and artillery shelling of the area. Someone told me I had the only working radio, although the only way I could contact the Cav was by getting their attention which I couldn't. So I had to run to one of the APCs and get them to notice me. First I thought about running to the closest APC to my front left which was full of wounded but I felt it had too little cover since I knew we were still taking a lot of rounds from the 9-10-11 o'clock positions. I then decided to run straight to the APC farther out which had a full side facing me giving me more cover. As I ran and was even with the APC on the left I looked over just as an RPG round hit the rear causing a large explosion and fireball that I'Small portion of events, After Action Report of July 3, 1966 ( 41 years later )
My name is Jim Barrett, I was a member of the 1st platoon, B Co, 1/35th Inf, 3rd Bde, 25th Inf Div arriving there from jump school at the end of December 1965 until late January 1967 about 13 months on my first tour in Vietnam.
On Friday July 13, 2007 my wife called me on my cell phone to inform me that there was a message on our answering machine from a Rusty Scheewe from North Carolina that wanted me to call him, something about me being his RTO on July 3, 1966 when we were involved in a fierce battle with the NVA. I got home later that night and couldn't really make out all that he was saying due to a poor phone connection from one of our ends, to my answering machine. He was saying that he was our CO that day and asking if I was his RTO and to call him.
I couldn't place him or the name and I thought that I've never even heard the name Rusty Scheewe that I could remember. The next day Rusty called me before I got to him and he explained who he was and that he thought that I was his RTO that day. I told him that I was sorry that I didn't recall him and that I was sure I was the RTO for a new Lt. Nichols that had just taken over our platoon from Lt. Tom Barron. As we talked he too was new only a couple of days replacing Cpt. Crotty as our new company CO and at that time did not know or ever meet Lt. Nichols. He told me that he was severely wounded that day and also so was Lt Nichols who he also saw in the hospital, and later on even played cards with months later still not knowing they both came from B Co 1st 35th and both being wounded in the same fire fight. I said at times I didn't know who I was packin the radio for, it being so confusing with every thing going on because I was separated a couple of times from Lt Nichols. Rusty thinks I was carrying the radio for both at one time. I asked who all was I in contact with, every one seemed to be on the radio, Bn, Bde, LOH, FAC, Artillery and the Cav unit that went in with us.
Rusty and I exchanged information from that battle day and asked me to recall as much as possible the events of that day and write it up for information he is putting together for the 35th Inf Regiment 2007 reunion in Philadelphia. So the following is some of what I can piece together of that troubled day of battle, wounded men and our forever fallen Cacti Brothers.
That day July 3, 1966 was a typical morning out in the boonies of the Central Highlands on one of the many stages of Operation Pau Revere. As I remember we were late getting info as to what our AO was and what we were going to be doing. A little later word was that our 3rd platoon had made some contact, then a short time passed and we learned that the contact was heavy and they needed assistance, then becoming urgent and we were to hook up with a Cav unit who was going to rush transport us on their APCs to the 3rd platoon contact position ( Chu Pong Massif Ia Drang River area on the Cambodian border ) were they were pinned down under heavy fire.
Somehow I got tapped to be the RTO that day, not my normal, our squad of the 1st platoon usually pulled point duty and occasionally swapped carrying the radio taking turns. We loaded up on the Cav APCs and raced like hell to an area just short of the 3rd's position. As I remember we got off the APCs and started up a small narrow semi dirt trail in thick heavy vegetation jungle with the APCs following to the area that the 3rd plt got ambushed in.
I'm going to describe this area as how I saw and felt the layout. Take two circles and put one next to the other like clocks touching at the outer perimeter edges, one at 10 o'clock and the other at 4 o'clock. I will refer to circle 10 o'clock as circle # 1 and circle at 4 o'clock as circle # 2. I was carrying the radio along side of Lt Nichols basically we were at point coming into the circle area of circle #1 when we both came upon Sgt Joe Johnson KIA laying behind a large log at about the 5 o'clock position. We took cover for an instant and then proceeded to move thru the circle and to our left 30 to 40 feet to about the 9-10 o'clock position when all hell broke out all around us. We started taking what cover we could and returning fire. Again we got up and moved to our left now into what I call circle area #2 at about the 3-4 o'clock position, were taking rounds from all over it seems. We again move to our left and drift back to about the 6 o'clock position where we pretty much stayed returning fire back and forth, being pinned down at times. As I remember Lt Nichols and I were down behind 2 logs or fallen trees giving us some cover of protection. We were taking rounds from all angles hitting everything around us along with explosions front, rear and above. At one time I think Lt Nichols got up and moved to his right to some other 1st platoon members positions, we had pretty much been pinned down and firing out to our left mostly at the 9-10-11 o'clock position area where we were getting heavy fire from and a lot of movements and yelling in Vietnamese, then Lt Nichols coming back next to me for the radio. We both were back and forth on the radio yelling to be heard to whomever on the other end over all the noise. As I was firing off to the left I then think he got up again moving back and to his right. A short moment later 2 explosions went off above and behind me which showered me with dirt and tree fragments and everything else. I don't know where Lt Nichols went to; I think now we are separated. Soon after 3-4 APCs that I could see move into our circle #2. Off to my right about 15-20 feet I could see Joe Gilliland and Raymond Buzzard and another guy from our squad firing to their front right. About 10 feet to my left was Daniel J Donaldson lobbing away M79 rounds out to the 10 o'clock position where we kept seeing a lot of movement. We just kept firing in that area; it seemed like slow motion and high speed all at the same time.
Two APCs moved into position on my front left at about 8 o'clock vertical with rear door facing me about 30-40 feet out. The other APC moved almost straight out in front of me horizontal with its side facing me about 50-60 feet out. Soon after at about 20 feet to the left of the APC on my front left I saw movement between two large standing trees, there were 2 logs or trees on top of each other forming a cris cross or scissor like look. Three NVA became clear with the one in the middle jumping up several times real fast. We trade fire, with them bringing on a lot more, I tried to stay as low as possible knowing the radio was sticking up high for them to see. The radio took a couple of hits and the antenna was winged once and smacked me in the face but it was still working. I was trying to fire and yell at the same time on the radio hardly making out anything with all the confusion and noise.
What stuck out in my mind was the NVA in the middle of the three was so much bigger than the than the other two. He got up a couple of more times real fast and this time I let off a small burst from my M16 and I hit him high in the right shoulder and neck and possibly in the chest. He fell backward going into a sitting position, I never saw him or the other two again.
Some of the wounded were helped into that same APC off to the left a short time later and the intensity of everything seemed to pickup again. Just after that I was told to make contact with the Cav because they and Bn wanted us to pull out so they could call in air strikes and artillery shelling of the area. Someone told me I had the only working radio, although the only way I could contact the Cav was by getting their attention which I couldn't. So I had to run to one of the APCs and get them to notice me. First I thought about running to the closest APC to my front left which was full of wounded but I felt it had too little cover since I knew we were still taking a lot of rounds from the 9-10-11 o'clock positions. I then decided to run straight to the APC farther out which had a full side facing me giving me more cover. As I ran and was even with the APC on the left I looked over just as an RPG round hit the rear causing a large explosion and fireball that I'll never ever forget. I made it to the other APC and got as flat to the side as possible and started yelling and pounding with the palms of my hand as hard and loud as I could to the guy on top blasting away with his 50 cal. Machine gun. He couldn't hear me so I started slamming my M16 with both hands on the steel side and yelling. Somehow I finally got his attention and after yelling to him several times he then understood what I was trying to tell him, to contact the other APCs in his unit and pull out so they can call in artillery and air strikes. I then ran back towards my old position yelling to everyone that we were getting out now. Soon the APC's were busting out through about the same way we came in, everyone was running along side and trying to get into the APCs, guys were grabbing and pulling each other into the moving vehicles up ahead of me and as I kept running along side of one close to the rear it seemed like I'll never get in one, when out of nowhere some guys grabbed me and yanked me up on top and we made it out to a large open clearing with high grass all around, and that is how we made it out. I also remember one of the guys running along side an APC getting injured when an APC track ran over a log kicking it up and out slamming into his leg I think breaking it.
After getting off and out of the APCs the choppers started coming in to take out the wounded and bring in some other officers. Then later we the 1st platoon I remember kind of sitting off to the side near the high grass in a daze trying to comprehend what just happened to us today, over 20 KIA and many severely wounded and evacuated out on dust offs. I was sitting at one time all by myself in back of Raymond Buzzard just looking at him and all the others in total silence, I still had the radio on my back, someone even took a picture of all of us in this daze.
We all had little or no ammo left and now had to re supply not knowing what was next for us. I don't remember how or when but later on I no longer had the radio I don't know what ever happened to it that evening. It started getting dark and we set up for the night with the artillery dropping in rounds one after another along with a C47 Puff shooting streams and streams of tracers out of the dark sky into our battleground area. Possibly the worst fear was knowing we were going back in in the morning with additional reinforcements to retrieve our KIA and see what was left of the enemy and their ambush setup positions.
We went back in the morning the enemy had collected their wounded and some of their dead and were gone, but we had inflicted a heavy body count on them. They somehow had gotten out of the area or they were close by in clever hiding looking for the next time, it was very scary and no sound but us retrieving our own and accessing the AO.
A day or so later I was evacuated out with Malaria and sent to one of the hospitals. One of the first things they did to me was lay me on a metal table with a black rubber type of tub and pack me with ice and spray me with a freezing water alcohol combination to get my temperature down. While laying there a nurse and a doctor took a clamp type of scissor and pulled out a small piece of shrapnel from left rear shoulder and a small piece from my inner thigh groin area and left butt cheek.
A short related item to this was 5 or 6 years later and out of the service I played in a rough form of flag football in a league that most all the teams were sponsored by bars and the name of our team was RTO, which stood for "Rick's Time Out", a favorite watering hole establishment. During one of our games I was playing right side linebacker and as I was pursuing a ball runner I was blind sided by an opponent on the other team and knocked to the ground hard on my ass. A few days went by and it became very sore and inflamed developing a golf ball size knot on my left butt cheek. I went to the doctor who then lanced it, and pulled out a half pea size piece of shrapnel from July3, 1966. I'll never ever forget. I made it to the other APC and got as flat to the side as possible and started yelling and pounding with the palms of my hand as hard and loud as I could to the guy on top blasting away with his 50 cal. Machine gun. He couldn't hear me so I started slamming my M16 with both hands on the steel side and yelling. Somehow I finally got his attention and after yelling to him several times he then understood what I was trying to tell him, to contact the other APCs in his unit and pull out so they can call in artillery and air strikes. I then ran back towards my old position yelling to everyone that we were getting out now. Soon the APCs were busting out through about the same way we came in, everyone was running along side and trying to get into the APCs, guys were grabbing and pulling each other into the moving vehicles up ahead of me and as I kept running along side of one close to the rear it seemed like I'll never get in one, when out of nowhere some guys grabbed me and yanked me up on top and we made it out to a large open clearing with high grass all around, and that is how we made it out. I also remember one of the guys running along side an APC getting injured when an APC track ran over a log kicking it up and out slamming into his leg I think breaking it.
After getting off and out of the APCs the choppers started coming in to take out the wounded and bring in some other officers. Then later we the 1st platoon I remember kind of sitting off to the side near the high grass in a daze trying to comprehend what just happened to us today, over 20 KIA and many severely wounded and evacuated out on dust offs. I was sitting at one time all by myself in back of Raymond Buzzard just looking at him and all the others in total silence, I still had the radio on my back, someone even took a picture of all of us in this daze.
We all had little or no ammo left and now had to re-supply not knowing what was next for us. I don't remember how or when but later on I no longer had the radio I don't know what ever happened to it that evening. It started getting dark and we set up for the night with the artillery dropping in rounds one after another along with a C47 Puff shooting streams and streams of tracers out of the dark sky into our battleground area. Possibly the worst fear was knowing we were going back in in the morning with additional reinforcements to retrieve our KIA and see what was left of the enemy and their ambush setup positions.
We went back in the morning the enemy had collected their wounded and some of their dead and were gone, but we had inflicted a heavy body count on them. They somehow had gotten out of the area or they were close by in clever hiding looking for the next time, it was very scary and no sound but us retrieving our own and accessing the AO.
A day or so later I was evacuated out with Malaria and sent to one of the hospitals. One of the first things they did to me was lay me on a metal table with a black rubber type of tub and pack me with ice and spray me with a freezing water alcohol combination to get my temperature down. While laying there a nurse and a doctor took a clamp type of scissor and pulled out a small piece of shrapnel from left rear shoulder and a small piece from my inner thigh groin area and left butt cheek.
A short related item to this was 5 or 6 years later and out of the service I played in a rough form of flag football in a league that most all the teams were sponsored by bars and the name of our team was RTO, which stood for "Rick's Time Out", a favorite watering hole establishment. During one of our games I was playing right side linebacker and as I was pursuing a ball runner I was blind sided by an opponent on the other team and knocked to the ground hard on my ass. A few days went by and it became very sore and inflamed developing a golf ball size knot on my left butt cheek. I went to the doctor who then lanced it, and pulled out a half pea size piece of shrapnel from July3, 1966.
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