“On Memorial Day, I told my family a story that I would never have been able to tell 30 years ago. I’ve been working on it with my Carson trauma therapist.
I was on duty in the Republic of Viet Nam in the spring of 1967, nearly fifty years ago. My helicopter was flying in close support of ground troops who were in a fierce fire fight with enemy forces in the province below.ence in the spring of 1967. Having been an infantry man and having fought in fire fights just a few months before, I knew what they were going through. From our chopper we rained tracer rounds down on enemy positions when a call came in to the chopper. The ground commander radioed that enemy fire was too severe for unarmed Medivac choppers to come in to pick up wounded. He asked us to come in and pick up the wounded. No one on the crew hesitated for a second before we began to descend into the firestorm. While continuing to lay heavy fire into the enemy positions, melting barrels on overheating M60 machine guns we landed and took out 4 badly wounded troops. One never knows if you will be able to put others over self until it happens, and what is weird, it does not seem like a big deal until you reflect on it and some general pins a medal on your chest. Reflections of a combat solder 49 years later. I have decided to tell one story a year on Memorial Day. Next year 10 Air Meddles. This is not a boast, this is what people should know about a peaceful man put in a life or death situation, I don’t think I have ever told this story to anyone before. I insist that I was not a hero, just doing a tenuous j
You see, just a few months before, it was me down there in the infantry, under fire. I could feel what it was like for them from my chopper. I was raining tracer rounds down on the enemy positions when a call came radioed in from the Ground Commander. Enemy fire was too severe for the unarmed Medivac choppers to pick up their wounded. The Commander asked us to come in and pick them up.
Not one of us hesitated; we began our descent into the firestorm. We were laying fire so heavily that the barrels were melting on our M60 machine guns. We landed and took out four of the badly wounded soldiers.
The thing is, you never know if you will be able to put the life of another before your own safety until you are in a situation and you have to choose. I was a peaceful man, put in a life and death situation.
I have not told my stories because of how I felt when I returned, I was called a murderer. I received an Army Commendation medal for valor. It was awarded for acts of heroism. The General pinned a medal on my chest, but I was treated as shameful by my community.
I see things differently now, with help from my Carson therapist. I see how people have learned to accept our warriors, even as we question the value of the war. I am learning to do that, too, though I still can’t think of myself as a war hero. I have ten more medals and ten more stories to tell. It isn’t just my family I am telling them to. I am telling them to myself, as well. I never really felt the meaning of the medals because so many of my friends were throwing theirs away. I can see now that in the heat of hellish war, there is still love and selflessness and true valor. And now sometimes in therapy, I see some of that in me. I see there is love, and selflessness and true valor.”
story by JAC Patrissi
