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I was drafted into the US Army in June 1967. I completed basic training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, and Advanced Individual training as an artillery surveyor at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. Then I was PCS'd to Germany where I was assigned to the 569th Personnel Services Company. After approximately five months in Germany, I received PCS orders to Vietnam. I arrived at Long Binh and was assigned to the 91st Finance Company, later renamed USA Central Finance & Accounting. I worked at In/Out processing of every Army officer and enlisted person wether alive or deceased. We worked seven days a week and performed guard duty at nights at the Ben Hoa Air Base nearby. Duty was extremely good. All the script money used by the US troops was "changed" twice during the year I was stationed in Vietnam. All script were collected, counted at least twice and new scripts issued. An extreme task was usually completed within 24 hours after receiving notification to proceed. My term of service was complete after 365 days in Vietnam and I was out-processed at Oakland, California in early June 1969. This is where we met the anti-war protestors and immediately changed into civilian clothes to complete the journey home!
Army Nurse Corps, Vietnam, 1968 to 1969...An experience that I approached with much reluctance and ambivalence. How ironic that the experience I most feared and dreaded has become one of the most rewarding, fulfilling, and gratifying experiences of my personal and professional life, an experience of which I am proud. I can say "proud" now; however, for many years after returning from Vietnam, it was too difficult to talk about being part of the unpopular war. People were too busy protesting the war to listen or be concerned about what was happening in the minds of the veterans. The 22-hour flight to Vietnam is somewhat of a blur in my mind. Women, of course, were in the minority, and I felt somewhat isolated realizing I was the only woman on the flight with approximately 200 young men. I will never forget the absolute quiet as we approached and landed at Bein Hoa Air Base. I felt fairly safe being in a war zone as a medical person, however, I wondered how many of us would be returning in a year. Reality struck home as we were shuffled quickly from the plane to buses in the black of the night. The windows were blacked out and armored guards briefed us on what to do if we were attacked, as had happened several weeks before. The bus drove without lightsalmost a total blackout. My first days of duty in the recovery room, Intensive Care Unit ward, were mentally and physically fatiguing. I soon learned a new and painful appreciation of what our young men were being exposed to. Our shifts were 12 hours, six days a week, and since we were few nurses, we depended tremendously on our Corpsmen. It was not unusual to receive 20 casualties at a time being flown in by helicopter. The sound of the choppers was constant, both day and night. At the 93rd Evac Hospital, we had daily evacuation flights. We gave immediate treatment and sent them to the States as soon as possible. Long Binh was the target of the Tet Offensive that year. For three nights, we were in total blackout with the hospital set up for triagethe emergency situation of sorting and treating patients. I was in the area to treat the more minor wounds and send the person back to the field. It was a frightening time. There were three evacuation flights a day, making a constant turnover of patients. As I was giving medication to a patient one morning, I noticed a photo on the table next to him. It was an action shot of guys running to the bunker, obviously under fire. He said, "that's the last picture I'll ever take." Yes, he stopped too long to get a picture, and the result was that his arms were amputated. My good memories of Vietnam are the friendships and a special closeness to my fellow Americans. The hardest part was seeing these young people die when you were over there to try to keep them alive.
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While in Bangkok, I visited the Army Hospital and saw first-hand some of the brave men who were badly wounded, and it changed my whole outlook on the war. I thought how lucky we are to have people who are willing to go and defend our country and risk ALL for fellow Americans.
When he was 21, he was wounded in action. He was shot through the leg, fragments from a hand grenade hit him in the face, knocking out teeth, and shrapnel hit him in the muscles of both arms and the chest. At the same time, his commanding officer and battalion leader were killed. He was a graduate of Riggs High School, Pierre, SD. He enlisted November 22, 1966 in the US Army. After basic training at Fort Polk, LA, he received advanced training at Fort Lewis, WA before being sent to Vietnam in June of 1967. On December 10, 1967 he was awarded the Bronze Star for bravery and valor by Major Gen John Hay and on December 19 was promoted from private first class to special 4. Urban's platoon is known as "Dracula," or "Black Scarves". He was among other soldiers televised by CBS and NBC news. The Presho man was holding the sling filled with dead Viet Cong as a big double-bladed helicopter picked them up, according to a letter received by relatives. The scene was shown later on Walter Cronkite's CBS evening news TV program.
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I was fortunate enough to serve early in the war (I was in Vietnam from September 1965 to February 1967) before public opinion turned against it. It never occurred to anyone that I knew over there to question our mission. That was not our job. We were called by our country to serve, and we served with honor. I was a crew chief/gunner on Huey helicopters, and saw my share of action executing the varied missions that we undertook. In the one and a half years that I was there, I never once saw any drugs or knew anyone that did drugs. There wasn't any time for that. When we weren't flying, we were busy doing construction projects on our base, which was an abandoned WWII Japanese airfield when we arrived. My service there is a chapter of my life that I don't dwell on, but I am proud to have had the opportunity to serve with many brave young men of all races who were proudly doing what they were called to do. Not all of them returned alive. By the grace of God, I was never seriously injured.
Several years ago the mobile wall came to our town. I went to see it, but the first two times on the way there, I had to turn around and wait to see if I had the courage to see it. I did get there and when I walked on to the field where it was, it hit me like huge wave as I realized why I was afraid to see it. I realized that I had seen some of these brave men die and didn't know who they were or where the came from. To see the wall at half-scale is amazing and I can't imagine what feelings there would be to see the real one. I have been very lucky in life. I have a great wife, nine pretty good kids and ten grand-kids, plus a very good job and home. I have way more than I deserve. Thank you for doing this for all that were part of this time.
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While serving aboard May 1972: "Freedom Train" (later called "linebacker") night raids were conducted off North Vietnam. engaged in over 30 of these raids, including entering Haiphong Harbor with another Gearing class DD to shell the airport a few days after the harbor at Haiphong was mined. 10 May 1972, participated in Operation Custom Tailor, a history-making strike that assembled the most formidable cruiser/destroyer armada in the Western Pacific since World War II. During this strike, military targets within four miles of Haiphong, North Vietnam were hit, and enemy opposition was heavy. All told, spent 183 out of 214 days at sea during the April through November deployment, expended 14,486 rounds of 5"/38 ammunition and successfully completed 97 underway replenishments. In June 1972, during night raids, dueled with North Vietnamese 155 millimeter coastal batteries near Hon La and Hon Mat islands and was hit numerous times. The shells used by the North were anti-aircraft, so most damage was shrapnel punctures to the aluminum superstructure. During one daylight raid, the was struck by three chicom rockets, with one unexploded warhead landing within a few feet of a damage control party in the main deck passageway.
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Following completion of physical therapy technician school in San Diego, I reported for duty at the U.S. Naval Hospital (Oak Knoll) at Oakland, CA on the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. His death created such chaos that I was placed in temporary quarters and basically forgotten for nearly two weeks. My most memorable experience at Oak Knoll was helping take care of young Marines who had returned from Vietnam without an arm or a leg. They exhibited extraordinary bravery and determination in recovering from their injuries and learning to use their "new limbs". They were an inspiration to all of us in the Physical Therapy Department and it was an honor to have met them and helped in some small way with their rehabilitation.
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While serving as a nurse in the hospital at Great Lakes, IL, we received men who had been wounded in the field every day via air evacuation within twenty-four hours of their rescue. The air evacuation planes made a brief stop in Guam. The men we received were still in the clothes they were wearing when they were injured. Each shift I worked, we would receive the evacuees which were then assigned to the appropriate hospital ward according to the injuries the soldier had sustained. In those days, one of us nurses was responsible for four wards of 50 patients each. We were the "charge" nurses. Naval Corpsmen were assigned to each ward and they were responsible for much of the immediate care of each patient. It was not unusual for a badly wounded soldier to be hospitalized for a year or two as they were not released until they were fit for duty. This was a very intense time for all. I specifically remember the unbelievable patriotism of these boys and men. In spite of their terrible wounds, amputations, and tremendous orthopedic injuries, they were committed to our cause and wanted to get well so they could return to fulfill their commitment. I also remember with a great deal of emotion, the Corpsmen, 18- and 19-year olds, who were surely going to get orders to Vietnam. It was just a matter of time. They knew it and when their orders came, they would come around to tell us. They never complained or questioned it. They left with trepidation and bravery. We lost one of our best Corpsmen over there. He had just been married shortly before he left. His death still brings tears to my eyes. We had a service for him in the Chapel at the hospital. His young wife was there. It hit us hard and the loss still resonates in my heart. These were extraordinary young people. I never heard one of them complain. I am proud to have served the United States of America in the United States Naval Nurse Corps.
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