The Pulse of Honor

By Oscar Dambrit

About the Book

The story line derived from real events. The author, drawing from some of his personal experiences, tells this story about HA Harry Rumsford, a navy corpsman, assigned to serve with the marines in Vietnam.
Harry Rumsford, a naive country boy being only half told what his duties could be, joins the United States Navy under the guarantee that he will get to work in the medical field.
Eventually he gets the ultimate duty assignment - duty with the marines in Vietnam. He is assigned at the squad/platoon level with a line company, 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division of the United States Marine Corps in South Vietnam during the middle part of 1970.
Having long held certain high ideals about the marines, he suddenly has his world turned upside down. He learns through experience what 'Semper Fi' really means.
While on a patrol during his first day in the bush, the young corpsman finds himself staring into the small black hole of death, at the end of a rifle barrel. It is then that he learns a hard lesson about trust. From that point on, he learns to adapt and survive, while dealing with a perceived enemy on three fronts. Each combat engagement is a personal struggle for him, as he relies on his own internal guidance.
This novel filled with mind twisting, high intensity, explosive action events, grabs you by the throat, keeping you in a breathless state of mind right through to the last word. A fictionalized story, based on real events, from one standpoint of the American involvement in the historic Vietnam War (Police Action is what it was politically defined as back then). A novel that is both entertaining and informative.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Oscar Dambrit
• Release date: Mar 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9780989102209

Oscar Dambrit

The author, delivered by a midwife, was born in 1949 in a small wooden cabin in a tiny community located near Toledo, Ohio. He grew up on a small dirt farm and left home at the age of 18 to join the U.S. Navy as a hospital corpsman. He spent eleven years attached to the marines serving as a Fleet Marine Force corpsman (medic). He spent one tour in Vietnam as a marine platoon corpsman in the bush. He also served with the marines during Grenada, and Beirut, Lebanon. When he was not serving with the marines, he worked in naval hospitals and clinics. He has traveled throughout the USA and visited fourteen different countries around the world. He has served on four types of navel ships, an LPH, LPD, LSD, and a CLG as well as assigned to two different Naval Air Commands. His assignments with the United States Marine Corps include the following major commands: the First Marine Division, the Second Marine Division, the Second Force Service Support Group, a Marine Amphibious Brigade, and a Marine Corps Air Squadron. He was a combat medical instructor and had at times worked with EMT's/Paramedic Units in the civilian sector. He had at one time owned and operated a small desktop publishing business.

Book preview

The Pulse of Honor

This is the new Vietnam novel, and Dambrit deserves his place among the great war dramatists of history. Dambrit's tour de force is an intense, hand-clenching, throat-stopping military cum human drama whose authenticity is branded on each page with the erstwhile vengeance of a rusty flamethrower. ...his talent for the written word is fresh and horrifically genuine.

Ellen Tanner Marsh, New York Times Best Selling Author

The Pulse of Honor

Oscar Jones Dambrit

.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2005 Oscar Jones Dambrit

www.dambrit.com

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Table of Contents

Dedication

About the Book

Author's note to you, the reader

Preface

Fears

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Ballad of an OP Specialist

Glossary of terms used in Vietnam

A few of the places the Author operated in, near, or visited

Honorable mention

Tributes

Acknowledgment

To You The Reader

A sample from The Pulse of Honor - A Dash of Courage

Dedication

In honor and memory of the United States Military personnel and our Allied Military personnel who served in Vietnam, I dedicate this book to them.

The author acknowledges a special honor for all personnel of the Armed Forces of the United States of America and all the Law Enforcement Officers of the United States of America. If not for their dedication and their commitment to duty, this country could very well become something other than what our constitution intended.

About the Book

The story line derived from real events. The author, drawing from some of his personal experiences, tells this story about HA Harry Rumsford, a navy corpsman, assigned to serve with the marines in Vietnam.

Harry Rumsford, a naive country boy being only half told what his duties could be, joins the United States Navy under the guarantee that he will get to work in the medical field.

Eventually he gets the ultimate duty assignment - duty with the marines in Vietnam. He is assigned at the squad/platoon level with a line company, 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division of the United States Marine Corps in South Vietnam during the middle part of 1970.

Having long held certain high ideals about the marines, he suddenly has his world turned upside down. He learns through experience what 'Semper Fi' really means.

While on a patrol during his first day in the bush, the young corpsman finds himself staring into the small black hole of death, at the end of a rifle barrel. It is then that he learns a hard lesson about trust. From that point on, he learns to adapt and survive, while dealing with a perceived enemy on three fronts. Each combat engagement is a personal struggle for him, as he relies on his own internal guidance.

This novel filled with mind twisting, high intensity, explosive action events, grabs you by the throat, keeping you in a breathless state of mind right through to the last word. A fictionalized story, based on real events, from one standpoint of the American involvement in the historic Vietnam War (Police Action is what it was politically defined as back then). A novel that is both entertaining and informative.

A note to, you, the reader.

I take this moment to thank you, for your choice in selecting this book. I hope you find it both informative and interesting.

.

Even though I have served my country in times of conflict in Vietnam, Beirut and Grenada, what I have given in service of my country is minuscule when compared to what our founding fathers and other brave Americans before, during, and after my time in service have given for our rights and freedoms. They were men and women with steadfast beliefs, honor, courage, and commitment. They consciously and subconsciously gave all they had, ranging from small sums to riches, from wives to children and families, from scarifying to sacrificing their lives. Truly, these were and are people with wills of iron and unfathomable beliefs. Moreover, if we all, as average American citizens, should be so courageous as to fill a small fraction of their shoes, we would accomplish feats of near miracles.

Preface

All military personnel swear an oath when joining their perspective branch. Sometimes the scope and gravity of such an oath is not fully understood until a particular situation arises. It is then that the individual grasps the full understanding of what swearing such an oath means and gains some insight about the full measure of his or her character.

This is one of those stories.

Fears

I scream in a vacuum,

So no one will hear.

The fear is my own,

And pointless to other ears.

My fears and my failures might all come to live.

What if they can survive in the light?

.

Lee Martin,

MS, Archeology

Chapter One

Field Medical Service School (FMSS - June 1970)

0900, Wednesday, July 1970, I Corp, South Vietnam. First day in the bush, on the first patrol of a 12-month tour. In the boonies near a small ville a few miles northeast of the village of An Hoa, South Vietnam. An Hoa being situated about 20 miles west of Da Nang and about 40 miles south by southeast of Hue City.

Twenty-year-old Hospitalman Apprentice (HA) Harry Rumsford stared into the small black hole of the rifle muzzle just inches from his face. The young corpsman saw the man's finger on the trigger, poised to apply the slight necessary pressure that would end his young life. His mind struggled as it tried to comprehend the reality of what was about to happen. He felt an imminent sense of predatory evil around him. The adrenaline, like lightning bolts, raced through his body, priming every cell in his system to the maximum fight or flight mode. As he stared into the black hole of death, he could almost see the deadly copper-colored jacketed round, chambered, just waiting to come rocketing down the barrel; almost feel the pain when it would rip through his upper palate, crushing the soft bony tissue; the numbing as his brain jelled while the projectile tore through his head, ripping and blowing out fragments of bone as it exited the back of his skull in one last final explosive burst. He sensed the man's finger tightening on the trigger. Rumsford's adrenaline poured into his system like water from an open faucet, keeping his heart racing, pounding, erupting as an unceasing geyser, until finally the sheer amount of adrenaline overwhelmed his system and pushed him beyond his system's fight or flight tolerance level, up to the level that split his mind.

A part of Harry stayed in his body, while another part drifted away slowly observing the scene as it did. The part of him that drifted away recalled the past six weeks of his young life that had led him to this point in time:

** 1800, Wednesday, May 1970, Marine Corps Base, Camp Pendleton, California.

Hospitalman (HN) Harry Rumsford placed his seabag on the quarterdeck of the Administrative Building, at the Field Medical Service School.

With his young attitude, being somewhat salty (cocky) in nature, he told the Mate Of the Day (MOD) that he was a day late reporting for duty.

The MOD looked at him and said, Just a minute. as he continued with his paper work.

The young corpsman stood there looking around, in particular gazing at the photograph of Admiral Zumwalt, Chief of Naval Operations, hanging on the wall.

The MOD interrupted Rumsford's gaze saying, What did you say to me earlier?

Rumsford replied, I said I was one day UA, (Unauthorized Absence), before reporting. thinking to himself, Whatta they gonna do, shave my head and send me to The Nam?

The MOD, with a slight smile on his face, looked at Rumsford for a moment then said, Take your gear and report to the MAA's, (Master At Arms - Navel variation of Military Police), shack. Outside, turn right on the sidewalk, third building down on the right.

The young corpsman reminisced as he walked toward the MAA's shack. - He had joined the United States Navy at the age of 18. He had done so only after receiving a guarantee that he would get to work in the medical field. He had been raised to believe that serving in the military was an honorable thing to do. Serve God, country, and family. That is what he had been taught. He was an average looking kid, baby face, sandy brown hair, light complexion, and slender. No, you could actually say he was skinny. He had just made the minimum naval weight requirements at 111 pounds, and stood 5' 6 1/2" tall. However, one thing could be said for him, though he may have been small, he was hard, hard as a rock. Farm life had a way of doing that to a person. He had completed boot camp in February of 1968. Then, after two weeks leave, he reported in to the Naval Hospital Corps School. This was where sailors received their training and introduction into the field of general medical work. The school was 16 weeks long. A couple of things that he had learned after being at the school for awhile was, first, if you dropped out of school you were automatically assigned to river patrol boats in Vietnam, and he was told that the average life expectancy of a person in that line of duty was about two months. Moreover was, startling enough, number two. Hospital corpsmen were assigned to work with the marines including duty in the field, including Vietnam, just like the army ground pounders. In addition, the real kicker was, the enemy was supposedly offering a $1,200.00 reward money for any navy corpsman, dead or alive. That damn recruiter conveniently enough forgot to tell him about that.

He graduated Corps School, and fortunately, his first set of orders was to a ship. His next set of orders was with a Naval Air Wing. After nine months into that tour, he got orders to the Military Provincial Health and Assistance Program 9 (MILPHAP-9). MILPHAP-9 was based just outside of Saigon, Vietnam. He reported to the NAVMEDSCOL, NNMC, at Bethesda, MD. This was a school where he would learn about Vietnamese history and customs, before reporting for duty in Vietnam.

While he was attending MILPHAP School in Bethesda, the civilian populace of Washington, DC was rioting in the streets. The people were overturning cars, then setting them on fire. They were throwing various objects into storefront windows, breaking the windows and then looting the stores. They also were throwing Molotov cocktails (bottles filled with gasoline that had a burning rag wick stuffed into the opening of the neck of the bottle), setting fire to the various businesses. The crowds were supposedly protesting against the federal government for being involved in Vietnam.

Rumsford watched footage on TV of a protest, which took place at Kent State University. He saw the footage of the guardsmen and the students clashing; watched as the guardsmen fired into the crowd; saw the students fall. He wondered why the civilians were fighting so hard against helping to keep a small nation free from the tyranny of communism.

The MILPHAP School was seven weeks long. However, after he had attended the school for two weeks, he received a new set of marching orders: 1st Marine Division, Da Nang, Vietnam. What shitty luck! His name drawn from a computerized list of social security numbers, random drawings.

Now, here he was getting ready to serve with the Grunts (Marine infantry) in Vietnam in about five to six weeks. The corpsman admitted to himself that he had had limited exposure to marines and knew very little about them except what he'd seen in the movies and had been told. He had never considered himself a brave or courageous person, so, needless to say, he was scared shitless. But nevertheless he was here doing his duty for his country.

Rumsford walked into the MAA's shack, he removed his white hat, then placed his seabag beside the door, and stepped up to the duty desk.

Snapping to attention, he said to the marine on duty sitting behind the desk, HN Rumsford reporting for duty, sir.

The Marine Sergeant sitting behind the desk looked at him and stated gruffly, Lem'me see your orders sailor.

He handed the sergeant his orders. Sergeant Albert Gulant studied the orders for a few minutes, then got up from his chair and stepped around to the front of the desk. Sergeant Gulant, a black Marine, stood about 5' 9" tall and weighed about 170 pounds. Gulant then stepped in front of the corpsman and stood there a few seconds just staring at him. The sergeant placed his hands on his hips, which give him the look of a towering giant as he leaned in towards the corpsman's face. Gulant's well-toned biceps bulged and strained against the rolled up sleeves of his olive drab shirt. To Rumsford, the biceps looked as though they were as hard as cold steel. Yet, the sergeant's rounded face had a delicate smooth chocolate creamy look to it; his chin had a refined square shape giving him a very distinguished look, as if he might be a schoolteacher. However, when the corpsman looked into the sergeants eyes, he saw a different picture. A very different picture. The sergeant's fierce and fiery eyes had a hard black depth to them with faint distant sparks of life. They were like looking into a starlit sky with faint wisps of nebulous clouds on a moonless night and they told a different story, a completely different story. The sergeant just stood there, again taking a moment to look at the corpsman up close.

Finally, Gulant stated, almost snarling, UA, huh? That shit don't fly here, Squid. You be where you're supposed to be! When you're supposed to be! The way you're supposed to be! Understand? as he pressed his nose against Rumsford's nose.

The young corpsman nodded his head ever so slightly to the affirmative.

The sergeant, moving his head back about an inch, bellowed loudly, What'd you say, boy? I don't think I heard what you said, Squid!

Harry swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat, and replied in a faintly audible voice, Yes sir, I understand.

The sergeant said, You do not call me sir, Squid. My name is Sergeant Gulant and I work for a living. You call me Sergeant when you speak to me. Now get your ass over across the street. You're going to alpha barracks, building 168. Grab a bunk that's not taken, and report back here in the morning. Now! Move it, sailor! and he landed a stiff index finger into the corpsman's solar plexus making the corpsman exhale forcibly.

Harry was beginning to sweat bullets as he turned and left. He didn't know what to think, and much of the salty cockiness that he'd had previously was now gone. He found his barracks just four buildings further down from the MAA's shack. He went inside and found a bottom bunk that was vacant. He went to the linen room, located just inside the barracks entrance, and signed for two sheets, a pillow, pillowcase, and a green olive drab blanket. He made his bed carefully, ensuring that the bottom sheet being tucked in under the mattress had nice tight hospital corners, a sharp 45-degree angle on each corner of the mattress. The top sheet was molded to the underside of the blanket and at the foot of the bed, the blanket and sheet together were folded into sharp 45 degree angles. At the head of the bed, the top sheet had exactly two inches exposed beneath the blanket and was folded back down over the blanket. He tried to recall from boot camp days how the bed was supposed to be made. He wasn't sure if this was the correct way or not, but he thought so and let it go at that. He sat on his bunk for a few minutes and then started putting his gear away into the wooden footlockers and upright metal lockers. After stowing his gear away, he just sat there thinking about his surroundings and the events that had taken place at the MAA's shack.

What the fuck am I into? he pondered in his mind.

At 2200, Sergeant Gulant came through the main door to the barracks and said, Lights out.

He flicked the light switch off and left. The barracks was full of navy corpsmen who lay there in their bunks with their own visions of what was to be in the coming days.

0500, Thursday, May 1970. Rumsford's eyes popped wide open as the lights flickered on and a loud booming explosion echoed throughout the barracks. The horrendous sound came from a training grenade exploding inside a 30-gallon galvanized trash can. The noise reverberated throughout the building as sailors scrambled out of their bunks.

Sergeant Gulant stood at the barracks entrance, bellowing, Rise and shine, ladies! Get your fucking sail-boating asses out of the rack! Be at the foot of your bunks, standing tall for barracks inspection in 30 minutes.

Gulant then turned and left.

What the hell is he talking about? Barracks inspection in 30 minutes? That's bullshit! Harry thought to himself.

Nevertheless, in thirty minutes he had shit, showered and shaved off the little bit of peach fuzz that he had growing on his chin, and was standing tall at the foot of his bunk with two minutes to spare.

At exactly 0530 three marines came into the barracks. The first marine in, a corporal, called out, Fall in for barracks inspection. On the double.

Sergeant Gulant followed the corporal through the doors and another sergeant followed Sergeant Gulant. One marine went to each side of the barracks and Sergeant Gulant strode down the center. The two marines walking down the sides looked at the alignment of the bunks, looked under the bunks, looked at the bunks that were occupied, and glanced at the sailors standing by the bunks. Surprisingly, none of the marines said anything as they performed their inspection.

When they had reached the end of the barracks, Sergeant Gulant announced, in a pleasant voice, Ladies, please fall out in front of the barracks in columns of four when you are dismissed. Thank you. and he strode back up the center and exited the building.

Harry thought, What the hell's this? This isn't the Sergeant Gulant I met earlier.

Then the other sergeant shouted loudly, Dismissed! Formation out front in two minutes.

Harry asked another sailor, What are we doing man?, as they grabbed their white hats and headed toward the entrance.

The sailor replied, I don't know man, but we better shag ass.

The two sailors joined the other sailors out front. The formation was four rows of navy dungaree uniforms filling the street, while the three marines stood on the opposite side of the street watching them. The corpsmen managed to pull their ranks into a fairly good military formation.

After a few minutes of watching the sailors, one of the marines shouted, Atten-hut! and all the sailors in the formation snapped to attention.

Sergeant Gulant, stepped out into the street and began speaking, Listen up! Welcome to Field Medical Service School, Camp Pendleton, California. While you are here, you will fall out every morning in formation just like this. Roll call will be held, and when your name is called, you will answer in this manner, 'Sergeant Gulant present' that is 'your rank, your name and present'. Do you understand?

The formation answered in unison, Yes, Sergeant!

Sergeant Gulant said, This is Sergeant Woodson., indicating the sergeant who had moved next to him, We will be your platoon sergeants for the next four weeks. If you have any problems, you ask us. If you give us any problems we will not ask you anything, we will simply deal with you. Understood?

The formation again answered, Yes, Sergeant!

Sergeant Gulant said, Today and tomorrow is admin time. You will be issued your uniforms, get your service records up to date, fill out wills and next of kin notification, and complete various other paperwork that is required. You will be split into three platoons. You will have a platoon leader. He will break you down into squads and the squad leaders will break you down into fireteams. The fireteam leader will be your first link in your chain of command, then your squad leader, then your platoon leader, then Sergeant Woodson or me. You will march in formation wherever you go. You will sing cadence, and you will sing it out. Every morning at 0600 you will form up here on the street into your respective platoons and squads. Muster will be held and then we will fall out for PT, a part of which will be your morning run. When you get back from your PT, you will be dismissed for one half hour to get a shower. Then you will be marched to chow. Before you fall out for formation, you will have your bunks made, and your footlockers and wall lockers will be locked. You will roll out of the rack at reveille, no exceptions. Sgt. Woodson and I will deal with any infraction of these rules swiftly and correctly. The Plan of the Day will be read every morning at muster, detailing what will take place that day. You will have two weeks of combat medicine training. This will be classroom instruction and training in the field. Then during the next two weeks, you will learn about various Marine Corps tactics. Again this will be classroom instruction and training in the field. Finally, one point I want to make very clear, nobody fails to graduate from this school. I say that to you so you will know that no matter how much you fuck up or fuck off, you will still graduate. Those are your only options here, gentlemen. Get used to it now. Do what you are told, be where you're supposed to be, when you're supposed to be, and we won't have any problems. That's all. Sergeant Woodson will now take you to chow. Be back here at 0800 standing tall in formation.

Over the next two days Harry received his OD's (Olive Drab uniform-fatigues) and learned how to properly wear his fatigue uniform. He learned how to march Marine Corps style; learned how to make a Marine Corps rack; filled out paperwork; and he learned to get out of the rack at the minute reveille sounded.

0800, Monday, June 1970. HN Harry Rumsford went to Captain's Mast (similar to a misdemeanor court) for being UA. He was reduced in rank by one pay grade to the rank of HA, and was assigned extra duty for ten days.

Then he began his two weeks of combat medicine training. During the field training, the corpsmen worked with naval doctors who were also going to serve in Vietnam. The corpsmen were repeatedly told during their training that if they took care of the marines, the marines would take care of them. Harry believed it. He learned how to improvise and think on his feet. One of the many interesting things that he learned was how to treat a sucking chest wound. The old school of thought was to just place something over the wound to form an airtight seal. The new way of thinking was to make sure there was an air tight seal, but also to watch for signs of a pneumothorax (air building up inside the lung, forcing the good lung to collapse and/or the heart to shift toward the midline point,- called a mediastinal shift). If this happened, Harry learned that he could use a makeshift flutter valve to release the pressure from the chest cavity. He was taught how to make a flutter valve out of a 1 1/2 inch long 18-gauge needle, a finger cot (what a doctor uses to probe your back end), and tape. The instructor demonstrated how to make a flutter valve. Showing the corpsmen that each end of the finger cot is cut off, he then slipped one end over the hub of an 18-gauge needle and wrapped tape around the finger cot and the hub to hold it on.

Once this is done, the instructor told the corpsman, "You would then locate the mid-clavicular (collar bone) point of the wounded side of the patient. From that point you will then count down to the fourth intercostal space of the ribs, wipe the skin area clean with alcohol, then insert the 18-gauge needle straight into the chest cavity until the hub rested against the skin. First, if the situation permitted, you would again clean the skin area around the hub of the 18-gauge needle with alcohol. Then you will swab the area with tincture of benzoin. Next, you will tape the needle in place. Two strips of tape are used, one over top of the other. You will take a strip of tape