We constantly trained for future operations…yet being a medic was a present responsibility, in both peace and war. Injuries and sickness are common to all human experience. However, great military training often came with calculated risks.
Most injury experiences seemed to center around the airborne drops. The parachutes are designed to get the troop to the ground as soon as possible. Airborne operations count upon surprise; they are most vulnerable during the drop. Sprains were very common, and we would have the occasional broken leg or foot. We immobilized the injury and most often transported them by the pictured FLA, which I think stands for front line ambulance. We didn’t use these in Vietnam.
Though not issued a military license in my first unit, I was promptly given one in the 2/501st PIR. They issued a license for up to a two and a half ton truck, before I shifted my first gear. That is the army way! However, they did ride me around the motor pool a couple of times, to see if I could steer and shift at the same time. Within twenty minutes, I was told to drive around the post for the rest of the day. That was one of the best days I ever spent in the army!
Being a medic was a calling. We were soldiers with a mission to save life and limb. However, we marched, climbed and jumped, looking every part of the infantry units we supported. A medic must not impede the mission of the infantry; we were imbedded into the fighting units.
Winters were tough a Fort Campbell. Most nights we slept on the ground with the troops. One night in particular, three of us medics were trying to sleep in a field ambulance. Not only were we off the ground, but two of us could rest on litters; I smugly claimed the lower litter.
On this particular evening, we could hear the sound of chopping. Apparently, somebody gave the OK for a fire. I heard the rhythmic chop, chop, chop, ahhhhh…. MEDIC!!! We tore out of the ambulance and took care of the situation. Two medics went to transport the injured. I was odd man out and remained in field support. So I said good bye to the litter and slept on the ground for the rest of the night. Though you wish that no one would get hurt, they do.
The picture was taken at the 101st Airborne Association Reunion visit to Ft. Campbell this year. It was tempting to sit in the front seat and reminisce. These ambulances were in fact my first street rods, though we more commonly drove them down the miles of dirt roads and off through the fields. The red crosses emblazed on our vehicles and arm patches alerted our units that we were with them and we were ready.
