"Doc" A Vietnam Medic

By John Loyer

Back of the Book



This is a story of a naïve young man eager to serve his country and as a medic to do more good than harm.

Over time, he realizes the horrific toll this war has on a person’s psyche. The sights, sounds, and smells change his life forever. This is only part of the story—how it began.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781645318453

Book preview

cover.jpg

Doc A Vietnam Medic

John C. Loyer

Copyright © 2020 John C. Loyer

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2020

ISBN 978-1-64531-844-6 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64531-845-3 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Journey

Camp Evans

The 101st Airborne Division

Our Gear

The Aid Station

Our First Assignment

Thanksgiving

Hue

Search, Hunt, and Destroy

The Ambush

Camp Evans, Again

Christmas Day

F— It, Don’t Mean Nothing

Some Hots and Cot

Back into the Ashau Valley

The Rock Apes

Under Attack

March Madness

Rest and Relaxation

Return from R&R

A New Mission

Independence Day

August

Laos

Two Months Left

Hawaii

Back to Vietnam

Evaluation

For those who came back broken.

Prologue

Today is Friday, June 10, 2016. I’m not sure why, but I have the overwhelming compulsion at this point in my life to put things down on paper. One thing that I do know is that once I start something, I have to finish it. I’m not even sure what I will do with this once I’m done with it.

I’m going to start my story on the way over to Vietnam, and I’m going to end this story after I come home. There’s certainly a story before Vietnam, and there is definitely one to tell after I returned home.

I was seventeen years old when I joined the army. Before that, I was what they called a greaser back then. I would dress in Italian knit, high-collar, silk shirts with a pair of featherweight shoes and greased back hair. I was also a juicer—they called me that because I drank alcohol all of the time. But I didn’t know anything about any sort of drugs.

I decided to enlist in the US Army Special Forces. Because of that enlistment, I had to sign in for a longer period of time—four years—as opposed to that of only two years. I signed up with the intention of being an X-ray technician, so my recruiter told me to tell the commanding officer when I arrived at medical school. We can get into more of that later.

I’m not a big person, and the training that I went through was extremely rigorous for someone my size. But I was determined to succeed and become the best that there was. To me, my mind was my most valuable asset throughout my life—surely it wouldn’t fail me now.

I was eighteen years old when I decided to go to Vietnam—a place that I have never heard of before the war started. I do not follow the news, so to me it was just a land, some place far away from home. After over one year of training, I went home on thirty-day leave with orders to report to Fort Dix and reroute to Vietnam. That is where I will start my journey.

Chapter 1

The Journey

It’s early November, here, and the weather is extremely cold. I’m told we are going to some place that is much warmer and also that the ride is over twenty hours. We are to only bring the essentials, as we will get a complete supply of the things we need once we get in-country. I said goodbye to the few people that mean something to me.

I’ve been gone now for over a year, and I seem to be changing a little bit already. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but something is different. The strangest conversation I had was with my father before I left. He was a Marine veteran serving in World War II. The night before I was to leave, he told me that if I was to ever become a prisoner of war, I was to kill myself. This was so that he and my mother would not have to worry about me.

I thought this very strange, but it got me to thinking, Where in the hell am I going that suicide would be a better option?

The plane is filled with mostly young people my age, with a few older guys who are in their mid to late twenties. It is a very quiet ride at first, but as time goes on, everyone starts to talk to each other and open up. It seems almost all of them are drafted into enlistment and mostly are infantry. The older guys appear to be officers or in higher ranks, like lieutenant or warrant officers. They mostly keep to themselves toward the front of the plane. I am the only medic on board.

When I have arrived at Fort Sam Houston in Texas for my training, I explain to them that I want to be an X-ray technician, but they need field medics in battle. Since my training is in all fields and my MOS is varied, they can use any of them. This is my first lesson of dishonesty and misrepresentation of facts from the US military.

All of us in the plane know that we are going to a place called Danang and that we will all receive our orders when we get there. As our flight draw to a close, things on the plane become more tense, as not many of us know quite what to expect. Will we have to jump out of the plane and immediately have to defend ourselves?

As we make our approach into Danang, we can see the lights below us and what appears to be a small city. There are small buildings, roads, and vehicles all around. Hell, this can’t be that bad of a place.

After we land, we are given a barracks number to head off to and then are told to report to supply to get the gear we need. After that, we are to report to headquarters (HQ) to get our assignments.

Damn, it’s hot and sticky here. I’m told I got here right at the beginning of monsoon season, which started in late September. It’s raining. They say it’s been raining for the last two days without stopping. But it’s due to stop raining for an extended period of time soon. Until it does stop, the helicopters will not take us where we need to go. Maybe that’s a good thing.

I don’t really know anybody here, and it seems awkward that no one here is particularly friendly. Oh well, I decide to go over to headquarters before supply. There, I get my orders that I am going to a place called Camp Evans. It’s up in I Corps, whatever that means. I’m to report to special operations in the 3rd Battalion 187th Infantry, which is better known as the Rakkasan. They’re attached to the 101st Airborne. It is there that I will get my further orders.

As I look around here, it’s not what I expected. I start to wonder