War Stories 18
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Memories Undimmed by Time: FSB David- Cambodia -14 June 1970
By Joel Chase and Terry McCarl
	INTRODUCTION
	By Terry A. McCarl, Historian, 15th Medical Battalion Association
	
	As the Historian of the 15th Medical Battalion (BN) Association, I am 
	privileged to research, read, and write about the heroic and meritorious 
	acts of members of the 15th Medical Battalion. Such stories are abundant, 
	particularly Medevac helicopter rescue missions plus life-saving emergency 
	medical care at the 15th Med BN medical treatment facilities. The following 
	is a story about such a mission, but it is about much more than that. It is 
	a story of extreme courage, fortitude, endurance, and resourcefulness about 
	a young Army officer and his unit that found themselves in what must have 
	seemed like a hopeless situation.
	I first met CPT Joel Chase and his wife, Dorothy, at the 15th Med BN 
	Association Reunion in Branson. MO, April 26-30, 2017. At one of the evening 
	informal get-togethers in the Hospitality Room, Joel asked if he could 
	address the group. Joel explained that he had been a Platoon Leader of D 
	Co., 1/5 Cav located at FSB David, about 10 miles inside the Cambodian 
	border. At 0300 on 14 June 1970, with a terrain challenging to defend and 
	out of range of supporting artillery, FSB David was attacked.
	
	The 
	story, briefly, was that Joel was seriously wounded and taken to the B Co. 
	15th Medical Battalion medical treatment facility at FSB Buttons near Song 
	Be. He was unconscious during the period he was being transported to 
	FSB Buttons.
	After he received emergency medical treatment at Buttons, a 
	Medevac helicopter flew him to the 24th Evacuation Hospital in Long Bien. He 
	was then transported to Japan and then home to the US. Miraculously, he 
	survived and was there in Branson, MO 47 years later, in 2017 to relate his 
	story.
	That night Joel and his wife Dorothy expressed their 
	appreciation to the 15th Medical Battalion for saving his life. Their 
	presentation was very moving.
	Three individuals who were involved in 
	Joel's medical treatment at the B Co. facility were at the reunion: 1LT Tom 
	Garnella, CPT Jon Lundquist, and SP5 Richard Schroder - more about them 
	later. Joel asked if anyone present at the gathering was with the Medevac 
	crew that hauled him from FSB David to FSB Buttons, but there was no 
	response.
	I talked to Joel the next day, and he said that if 
	possible, he would like to get in contact with and personally thank the 
	Medevac pilots and crew members who rescued him from LZ David. I advised 
	Joel I would poll our membership to identify and locate these individuals.
	
I posted an inquiry on the 15th Medical BN Facebook page asking if 
	anyone knew who was on that crew. Dan Brady, medic, contacted me. He 
	said that it was the mission during his time in Vietnam that he remembers 
	the most vividly. We proceeded from there to identify the other crew members.
	
	Joel's Vietnam tour began on 04 October 1969. In April of 1970, Joel had 
	completed six months of his VN tour and was eligible for transfer out of the 
	field to a relatively “safer” job. He chose instead to stay with his unit as 
	Platoon Leader. Then, in May of 1970, the Cambodian Incursion came about!
	
Here is Joel's story in his own words.
	JOEL CHASE'S STORY
	
	
I was a platoon leader with the 1st Air Cav in 1969 and 1970 
	following graduation from OCS at Benning. When I got to Vietnam, I realized 
	OCS had not prepared me to be an infantry platoon leader, but I had 
	out-standing and understanding Non-Commissioned Officer Sergeants. It took 
	them a while to educate me, but I finally “got it” after about six months in 
	the brush. Then “Tricky Dick” gave us the green light to go kick some butt 
	in Cambodia, so the decision to stay with my platoon was an easy one.
	
We were in the draw-down mode and weren't getting replacements for those 
	going home or wounded. At last count, my platoon was down to 17 guys, 
	including some short-timers and a couple of FNGs, and the bad guys in 
	Cambodia were formidable adversaries. They were well-armed, trained, fed, 
	and didn't run from a fight.
	Battalion (1st of the 5th Cav) finally 
	took pity on our little company (D) and put us on the green line at Fire 
	Support Base (FSB) David, a tiny place 10 miles inside the border and 
	outside of artillery fan fire from other FSB's. The Cav had done severe 
	damage to the NVA caches and other infrastructure, which mightily pissed 
	them off. So they launched an all-out attack on David on 14 June 1970 at 
	0300. What their commanders didn't understand was that we were waiting for 
	them.
	
	The first shot fired on David was from an M16 at about 0300. A 
	trip flare in my sector went off, and a guard on a bunker thought he saw 
	movement and fired one round at that spot. After visually scanning the area 
	for nearly 30 minutes without locating any enemy, we were about to give up 
	when a guy next to me thought he saw something and pointed to it just inside 
	the concertina wire. It was indeed an NVA sapper, and when discovered, he 
	cranked off several rounds from his AK rifle right at me. However, he aimed 
	too low, and the bullets skimmed off the berm and grazed the top of my head.
	
	Suddenly all hell broke loose as M-16's, AK-47's, and M-60's rattled 
	away for almost three hours along with mortars, 105's, and B-40 rockets. 
	(Note: The fog was too thick for air support, so we were reliant on our 
	organic mortars and 105's.)
	While I was on the radio to my CO, a 
	chi-com grenade rolled up next to me and detonated. It was thrown by an NVA 
	that had infiltrated our perimeter and was lying just outside the berm, but 
	we never saw him. I have to admit he was a pretty cool customer and good at 
	camouflage. I'm sure he paid the ultimate price for his actions, however, 
	along with 27 other of his comrades.
	
	My injuries from the grenade 
	were severe, and it was three hours before receiving any medical attention 
	as the battle raged, which I missed due to loss of conscience, loss of 
	blood, and shock. From a technical standpoint, I should have died.
	
	The after-action report, daily log, and manning report listed 28 NVA KIA 
	(Killed In Action) with numerous blood and drag trails the next morning, 
	suggesting they probably had more losses than 28. It was a miracle that not 
	a single GI died in the battle. It is sometimes better to be lucky than 
	good!
	
	
Soldiers told me I was unconscious at about 0600 when the fog began to 
	dissipate and the sun rose to allow a Medevac helicopter to land and take me 
	plus eight others of the most seriously wounded to FSB Buttons. Shortly 
	after that, a Chinook (CH-47 helicopter) landed with an emergency resupply 
	of ammunition, unloaded, and loaded the remaining 24 wounded and took them 
	to FSB Buttons.
	I do remember the cold air of the aircraft waking me 
	up for a moment and asking where I was when I arrived at FSB Buttons aid 
	station. I woke up to Tom Garnella's voice and getting bumped down some 
	steps into a cave. Somebody said: “Be careful; he has a broken arm.” 
	However, I don't remember much of that, which is probably for the best.
	
I wasn't hurt badly by the AK rounds but was bleeding pretty good. When 
	the grenade went off, all I heard was a pop, and then it felt like somebody 
	took a baseball bat to my entire body. I was blinded and deaf but knew I was 
	in sad shape and attempted to crawl - somewhere. I had a pulverized right 
	elbow that collapsed, so I kind of snaked my way to a pile of sandbags to do 
	a little BDA, Body Damage Assessment. My sight started to return, and I 
	realized I had crawled into one of our scout tents.
	As the evening wore on, the tent that I was in looked like Swiss cheese 
	when illumination was up. I kept getting hit by either B-40 or mortar 
	shrapnel as I lapsed in and out of conscientiousness. The burning shrapnel 
	hitting me jolted me awake and probably saved my life. I was evacuated to FSB Buttons and then to 
	the 24th Evac. They split me open like a trophy deer to fix the damage done 
	to my liver, kidney, spleen, and other internal stuff. Then they discovered 
	that I had a piece of shrapnel in the right brachial artery that had been 
	sent there by my heart. There were two more chunks in the heart they left 
	alone and are still there to this day unless they rusted away.
	After 
	the flight to Japan, I nearly “bought it.” My heart was still leaking, but 
	the sac around it had begun to heal, so I had near-fatal pressure building 
	up, requiring tapping three times before the bleeding stopped.
	My 
	poor parents were subjected to telegrams from the Army, listing all my 
	injuries in gory detail. A telegram dated 1 July 1970 stated, ”He received 
	wounds to the back, scalp, abdomen (with hemothorax, lacerations of the 
	liver and right renal), chest with right hemopneumothorax, and embolus of 
	the right brachial artery and all extremities. And both eyes had partial 
	loss of vision to the left eye and corneal abrasions to both eyes.”
	
	Another telegram dated 08 July 1970 stated, “Your son was placed on the very 
	seriously ill list. He has an additional diagnosis of a wound to the heart, 
	right lung, right lobe of the liver, right arm, and a fracture to the right 
	olecranon. In the attending physician, his condition is of such severity 
	that there is cause for concern. His present condition and prognosis are 
	noted to be fair and his morale good.”
	My ten months in the “brush” 
	weren't without some excitement. They resulted in awards of the Silver Star, 
	Bronze Star with V device for Valor and Oak Leaf Cluster, Purple Heart (PH) 
	with Oak Leaf Cluster, Air Medal, and Army Commendation Medal with V device 
	plus all the “I was there” stuff. I wanted to make the Army a career, but 
	they said they no longer required my services and retired me at 100% 
	disability at the rank of Captain. Anyway, it was an interesting ride while 
	it lasted.
	I got a 100% disability for my trouble and then went into 
	sales as a manufacturer's rep. My left eye has since lost all sight but have 
	no regrets and would do it all again. About seven years ago, I decided I was 
	deserving of a second PH and began the process of begging the Army to grant 
	my request. I ran into objections like you need two sworn witnesses (which I 
	didn't have), two MD attendants who treated me (which I didn't have), and 
	then they told me only one PH per deployment was authorized each individual. 
	It went on and on with six-month intervals between their responses. They 
	were jerking my chain, and it took me five years, but I finally got it after 
	a Congressional Inquiry and a two-star intervention. The low-quarter 
	personnel LTC who continually trashed my requests got a reprimand much to my 
	enjoyment.
	
	THE MEDEVAC CREW
	
	
	
	Historian's Note: I was delighted to hear from 
	Dan Brady, who responded to my Facebook post that he was the medic on that 
	Medevac mission on 14 June 1970. He said, “I'm sure that Jon Hodges was Crew 
	Chief and Mike Parsons was Gunner that night. I know Oakie (1LT Hank Tuell) 
	was the Aircraft Commander, and Mr. Trifiro or Mr. Simpson was the Copilot. 
	I do remember lots of dead outside the wire when we finally got in. Don't 
	remember how many tries it took. I do remember my one patient, though. Bad 
	head wounds and face a mess. I had to do CPR on him. I'm sure he was an SGT 
	or higher or an officer. I didn't find out if he made it or not. Though I'm 
	getting foggy about many of my missions, that one remained clear in my 
	mind!”
	Hank Tuell confirmed Dan's recollections. Tom Trifiro was 
	contacted and responded that he could not remember the mission. Greg Simpson 
	said he was not 100% certain, but quite sure he was the Copilot on that 
	mission.
	Mike Parsons, the Gunner, is reported to have taken his own 
	life about 30 years after his Vietnam service. No other details are 
	available at this time.
	Dan Brady and several others report trying to 
	find Jon Hodges, the Crew Chief, but attempts have been unsuccessful, Jon, 
	if you are reading this, please contact me at 
	historian@15thmedbnassociation.org .
	
CPT JON WALKER'S STORY
	Historian's Note: CPT Jon G. Walker was the 1/5 BN Surgeon, who was at 
	FSB David on 14 June 1970.
	On 14 June 1970, I, Jon G. Walker, was 
	CPT, Medical Corps, US Army, and I was the Battalion Surgeon of the 1/5 
	Battalion of the 1st Cavalry Division. At FSB David, my Aid Station was 
	located near the woods on the southeast perimeter and consisted of a 
	partially below-grade hole dug by backhoes. My medics and I gained enough 
	vertical height to stand by creating pillars of sandbags on the edges of the 
	hole and laying logs across the posts. We then put Perforated Steel Plate 
	(PSP) strips on top of the logs and covered them with plastic and more 
	sandbags. The hole was maybe 10’ x 12’. My head medic, an E5 named Rick 
	Fortune, and I had cots in the Aid Station. A couple of other medics had 
	built a “hooch” out of corrugated culvert raised on sandbags, which abutted 
	one corner of the Aid Station.
	I had just gotten orders for my R&R and 
	planned to hitch a ride to the rear area on 13 June to call my wife to make 
	reservations for Hawaii. I never got off FSB David, however, because the 
	weather on 13 June was so bad that no one was flying.
	
	
For some reason, 
	neither Rick nor I were sleeping well that night. Around 2:30 AM, we heard 
	an explosion followed by M16 fire coming from what seemed like the northeast 
	perimeter of the base. We were immediately up, and it appeared all hell 
	broke loose. Some of my medics came down to the Aid Station. I was standing 
	near the opening, where the hooch abutted the Aid Station when an explosion 
	right outside knocked me across the Aid Station and onto the floor. We 
	assumed it was a grenade and that another one may land in our hole. That 
	didn’t happen, so I eventually stood up and shined my flashlight into the 
	hooch, fully expecting to be shot. What I discovered was that a Rifle 
	Propelled Granade (RPG) had landed at the other end of the hooch, and the 
	hooch directed the concussion into the Aid Station where I was standing. 
	Around that same time, we began hearing calls for “Medic!”
	I was ready to 
	go out when cool-headed Rick Fortune told me to stay put. I was the only 
	doctor on the base, and he and the other medics needed to know where I would 
	be. Shortly after that, I started receiving the wounded. It was chaos, the 
	ground was muddy, and it was still raining. We were next to a mortar pit, so 
	as they unwrapped the plastic from the mortar ammo, they would throw it over 
	to us for use as covers. I quickly assessed each soldier and tried to 
	determine the extent of the injuries and what action to take. My supplies 
	were meager.
	I had Kling wrap, Ace bandages, gauze, Vaseline gauze, 
	sterile saline, and curettes of morphine (imagine a small tube of toothpaste 
	with a needle attached. You put the needle in the patient then squeeze the 
	morphine out of the tube). Specific injuries remain in my memory: an SGT who 
	shot in the thigh with an AK-47. The entry wound was small, but the exit 
	wound in the back of his leg was massive. I packed it with gauze and wrapped 
	it tightly with an ace wrap, which seemed to control the bleeding. I 
	remember a soldier with a pneumothorax (collapsed lung), and all I had to 
	plug the wounds with was Vaseline gauze (maybe LT Chase?). There was another 
	soldier with multiple shrapnel wounds on his chest and face who was awake 
	and looked at me when I spoke but didn’t respond.
	
	
Additionally there was 
	a soldier who didn’t look too bad initially but had a massive scalp wound on 
	the back of his head. I cleaned it with saline, then replaced the skin flap, 
	and wrapped his head with Kling holding the flap in place. There were 
	numerous broken bones and lacerations. We splinted what we could and dressed 
	the wounds but didn’t have the time or the supplies to suture. All told we 
	had 33 wounded soldiers for about three to four hours. We had no air support 
	because of the weather and no way to evacuate anyone. When the weather 
	cleared a little around 6 AM, the first chopper in was a Huey Medevac. I 
	tried to evacuate the most serious on it and was able to get nine men (as I 
	recall) out. Shortly after that, I got word a Chinook had just delivered 
	artillery ammo to the other side of the base and was coming over to evacuate 
	the wounded. They settled down just outside the perimeter, and I was able to 
	get everyone else on board. So within five minutes, we went from 33 wounded 
	to none. As I gradually came back to reality, I didn’t fully comprehend what 
	had just happened. I was relieved, but other emotions just swirled. I still 
	remember blood just running in rivulets across the ground.
	I eventually 
	went for a walk with Rick Fortune and viewed at least 28 enemy bodies 
	outside the perimeter, many of them just blown apart. We thought we heard an 
	AK-47 near the Aid Station at one point and, indeed, found spent AK shells 
	on the ground. I assume the shooter was on the roof of the Aid Station. Was 
	he the one who was shot?
I later found out that Rick Fortune went out 
	without his “steel pot” to identify him as American. The Sgt Major (whose 
	name I can’t recall but would like to know) told me he had Rick in his 
	sights but recognized him at the last minute and didn’t shoot. (Historian's 
	note: The Sergeant Major was CSM Bell.)
	We didn’t lose any GIs at the 
	base, and I subsequently learned all survived. I’m especially pleased to 
	know that. I eventually got a Bronze Star with a V, which was certainly a 
	novelty at my next assignment in the Out-Patient Clinic at Fort Gordon, GA.
	And that’s my story. I haven’t been able to find my name anywhere in the 
	records but occasionally will look. I was the only doctor on FSB David on 
	that infamous day. I left the Army in the fall of 1971, specialized in 
	Urology, and am now retired after practicing in Lancaster, PA, for over 30 
	years.
	
TOM GARNELLA
	
	
Historian's Note:
	1LT Tom Garnella was the Medical Operations Assistant at B Co., 15th Med BN 
	02/70-02/71. Tom also gets the credit for inviting Joel and Dorothy to the 
	Branson Reunion, thereby getting work on this story started.
	When 
	Joel got to FSB Buttons, he and 1LT Tom Garnella both got the surprise of 
	their lives! Joel had been an OCS TAC Officer at Fort Benning, GA, and Tom 
	was one of his officer candidates! Here is what Tom had to say:
	“You 
	are correct that when Chase was brought into the FSB Buttons aid station, it 
	was I who looked down and immediately recognized him. Like you asked, what 
	are the odds of my Ft. Benning TAC Officer coming into the aid station to 
	which I was assigned? Unbelievable!!! Who could ever forget their Infantry 
	OCS Tac Officer who decided I should be commissioned as a 3506 MOS, Field 
	Medical Assistant. Concerning Chase, my role was basically to assure Chase 
	that he would live and that Doc Lundquist and others would take care of him 
	as we prepared to send him to the 24th Evac. Doc Lundquist allowed me to 
	accompany Chase to the 24th, where I stayed by Chase's side for two days 
	before having to return to FSB Buttons“.
	A little extra irony was 
	that Joel had recommended that Tom go into the Medical Service Corps instead 
	of the Infantry.
	Tom mentioned his gratitude to his friend, CPT Dean 
	Stoller, MC, with HSC 15th Med BN for helping him to connect with Joel Chase 
	45 years after his tour in Vietnam.
	
JON LUNDQUIST
	
	Historian's Note: CPT Jon Lundquist, MC, was the Commanding Officer of B Co. 
	and the physician that treated Joel. He does not explicitly remember 
	treating Joel because of all the other seriously wounded that came into his 
	facility.
	
	 
	RICHARD SCHRODER
	Historian's Note: SP5 
	Richard Schroder, Clinical Specialist, 12/69-12/70 recalls very well the day 
	that a Chinook brought in a load of wounded to FSB Buttons. Here is what he 
	said.
	
	
“I do remember very well a Chinook that brought some wounded to 
	Buttons, and I believe that was the only time a Chinook landed on our Huey 
	pad while I was with B Company. We had gotten the word that the Chinook was 
	coming to the Chinook pad with wounded, so we sent our ambulances and medic 
	up to the Chinook pad to get the wounded. Another SSG 91C and I stayed 
	behind to get the treatment bunker ready to receive the wounded and to alert 
	the Docs. I remember the surprised look on our faces when we heard the 
	Chinook and realized it was landing on our pad. Several of our big GP tents 
	were acting like giant bellows, but none came down; however, our 50-gallon 
	trash containers got caught in the downward and were blown all over the 
	place. We told our clerk to recall our medics and ambulances and to notify 
	the docs and any off duty personnel as we figured we were going to need help 
	once the chopper landed. Once the Chinook landed, we started to offload the 
	wounded by way of the rear ramp (I still can remember the heat coming from 
	the engines).“
	
CHINOOK CREW
	
	
Historian's Note: Also, heroes 
	that day were the crew of that Chinook who, after making an emergency 
	delivery of ammunition, hauled 24 wounded to FSB Buttons. Presumably, that 
	Chinook would have been from the 228th Assault Support Helicopter BN. An 
	attempt was made to identify the pilot and crew by postings on several 
	Facebook pages, including the Vietnam 1st Cavalry Facebook page with some 
	responses received. Bill Lee, who was Operations SGT with Charlie Co., 228th 
	ASHB, suggested it was a Chinook pilot with that unit named Bob Barr 
	(nickname “Cowboy Bob”) who many times did offer to transport wounded under 
	similar situations. We were not able to find his name on any of the 228th 
	ASHB rosters, VHPA rosters, or 1st Cavalry Division Assn membership rosters. 
	I was notified by Bob Braa that he was a Chinook Pilot whose nickname was 
	“Cowboy Bob,” and that his crew was on standby at FSB David that day, but a 
	different crew made the pickup of the wounded. Unfortunately, no additional 
	information was found on the identity of that crew. If anyone reading this 
	knows, please contact 
	historian@15thmedbnassociation.org . I 
	understand it was not uncommon for Chinook crews to transport wounded. 
	
	
ADDITIONAL COMMENTS BY JOEL CHASE
	
	
Part of the story 
	about the defense of David that has received “little ink” is the heroics of 
	Mike Crutcher during the battle. Mike, the CO of the Recon Co, was all over 
	the place, and at one point, Bill Vowell CO of D Co realized the enemy was 
	in a few of our bunkers, which was a dangerous development. Bill asked the 
	adjoining bunker commander if he could move to retake the bunkers, which 
	were threatening the entire firebase. The response was he "couldn't move." 
	Mike Crutcher was aware of the conversation and communication and sprang 
	into action with a small volunteer posse and retook the bunkers from the 
	enemy which, was a critical move in securing the perimeter. Mike was awarded 
	the Silver Star for his heroics and eventually retired from the Army as a 
	Colonel. What a fine and brave young officer! 
	I had learned from the 
	enemy not to present the expected. They changed things to make a probe look 
	like an attack and make an attack appear to be just a probe. To counter 
	that, I had our guys string 25 tripwires and flares in front of each bunker. 
	They were crisscrossed side to side and front to back - some high and some 
	low in the grass. Then we moved the claymores back to the berm and 
	sandbagged them after dark so the NVA didn't know where they were and 
	couldn't play with them. Note: The NVA were watching us from nearby hills, 
	so we needed to “play cute” showing our hand during the day and moving 
	positions after dark. That may not seem important, but as every infantryman 
	will tell you - take advantage of all available resources. 
	The NVA 
	that attempted to overtake David was a combination of their elite sappers 
	and Infantry. The estimated number was a reinforced company, but I'm not 
	sure how that relates to personnel in their configuration. The first line of 
	attackers were sappers who would open avenues through concertina wire and 
	trip flares of approach for the attackers that followed. They frequently 
	stripped off their clothing to minimize getting snagged in barbed wire. 
	Sometimes they wove mats of grass that they put on their backs as 
	camouflage. When they encountered our concertina wire, they would slither 
	through it like a snake and continue forward after placing satchel charges 
	in the wire to blow holes for their comrades when the attack began. Some 
	sappers would take long blades of grass and "feel" their way through trip 
	flare wires. If the grass bent, they would find the wire and follow it to 
	the source, hoping to disarm the trip. Sometimes they guessed wrong and 
	simply found the anchor to the trip, but they would retrace their route and 
	disable the tripwire at the other end by pinning it. All this took time - 
	lots of it. Sappers would typically begin their crawl to the objective just 
	after sunset and spend as much as three hours weaving their way through 
	barbed wire and trip flare wires. The weather on 14 June played to their 
	favor as dense fog reduced visibility earlier than usual, giving them an 
	early rally point. I had seen demonstrations of how sappers could silently 
	infiltrate a position that quite frankly scared me. They were good - VERY 
	good. 
	To counter the capabilities of the sappers, we installed 25 
	trip flares in front of the four bunkers in my sector. It looked like the 
	inside of two pianos going at 90 degrees in different directions. Usually, 
	our claymore mines were placed just inside the wire. (Claymore mines had 
	steel balls embedded in a plastic backing and two pounds of C-4 explosive to 
	propel the balls toward the enemy). Knowing we were being watched or mapped, 
	we put out the claymores during the day and then moved them back to the berm 
	to use their impact better and eliminate possible NVA tampering. Yep. The 
	NVA would take the reflective engineering tape off the back of a claymore, 
	turn the claymore around and replace the tape as nothing happened. 
	
	The Cav beat the NVA best at their own game in defending FSB David. The guys 
	who waged that battle were mostly enlisted men who did an extraordinary job 
	of holding their ground and repulsing a large enemy force. I believe their 
	story deserves retelling and retelling.
	To the Medevac crews that 
	rescued me not only on 14 June 70 but throughout my time in Vietnam: You 
	were calm on the radio and taught me to do the same, which my guys observed 
	and served to maintain some sort of organization even under fire. You guys 
	were the greatest, and I have the highest admiration for you all!
	I 
	always looked forward to getting my guys on birds going out, but inbound 
	birds meant danger ahead and the unknown. We always knew you were there when 
	we needed you, which was important.
	When you get involved with “bad 
	guys” and are in desperate need of medical help, the guys on the ground 
	always felt the choppers with the red cross would somehow come to our 
	rescue. You made us braver than we were - you guys are my heroes.
	To 
	CPT Jon Lundquist, B Co., 15th Medical Battalion Commander, and CPT Jon 
	Walker, 1/5 BN Surgeon and their medics and other medical personnel, without 
	whose skill, determination, and compassion, I would not be here today, I am 
	forever in your debt!
	God Bless you all, and thank you!
	Joel
	Historian's Note: In closing, Joel has these two stories that have 
	nothing to do with FSB David but are two of his favorite stories from 
	Vietnam.
	“Our battalion got a new commander, and we were at an 
	established FSB near the Cambodian border. Our new "leader" decided the 
	place needed some grooming and ordered all cigarette butts and matches to be 
	policed by the troops guarding the perimeter. Inspections would be 
	performed, and if violations were discovered, the personnel at the offending 
	bunker would get no beer or soda. So I asked my guys to be perfectionists 
	and deliver their trash to me. After dark, I took a large pail of matches 
	and butts up to the TOC and scattered them all over the place. I guess 
	somebody got the message because the inspections stopped. If our fearless 
	leader had wanted to do something healthy for his troops, he could have 
	requisitioned a case of rat traps to reduce the infestation of vermin in the 
	bunkers around the perimeter where we slept. The life of the grunt was 
	considerably different than other MOS's, and quite frankly, I preferred 
	pounding the brush to rear echelon duty. ” 
	
	
“After a few weeks at 
	24th Evac after being wounded, I was well enough to transport to Japan. I 
	was ambulatory and picked up my war trophy SKS rifle in preparation for 
	transport to the airport. A rickety old Air Force blue bus arrived, and a 
	bunch of walking wounded boarded, and in retrospect, our transport probably 
	had no springs. It immediately became apparent the driver was a masochistic 
	bastard because he hit every curb, pothole, and bump on the way to the 
	airport. He was a real pro at accelerating and decelerating. There were lots 
	of moans and groans from the wounded passengers, which simply seemed to give 
	the driver greater pleasure from abusing his passengers. When we arrived at 
	the airport, we found our flight canceled due to weather, so we pulled a “Uey” 
	and returned to the 24th Evac Hospital with more bumps and bruises. Same routine the 
	next day with more passenger agony, which pissed me off, so I fixed the 
	bayonet on my SKS and began an advance toward the driver. He saw me coming 
	in his rearview mirror, and I gently pushed the point of the bayonet on the 
	back of his neck. I said: "OK, asshole, if you hit one more curb, pothole, 
	or bump, you'll be looking at the point of this thing through a buttonhole 
	in the front of your shirt - GOT IT?!" It turned out that kid was an 
	excellent bus driver, and I got a rousing cheer from the other passengers.”
	
	
	
Acknowledgment
	
The authors extend their appreciation to Mike 
	Bodnar, former Medevac Medic (1/70-7/70) and Editor of the 15th Medical BN 
	Column in SABER, the 1st Cavalry Division Association's bimonthly newsletter 
	for research and writing that he has done on the subject of the defense of 
	FSB David on 14 June 1970. Readers may find his columns in the 
	November-December 2019 and the January-February 2020 issues of interest. 
	Go 
	to the Index, then 2019 Nov-Dec and 2020 Jan-Feb.
	
	Historian's Note: This story is “Mission 20” in Phil Marshall’s book; 
	Helicopter Rescues Vietnam, Volume XI. This book is the 11th 15th Medical 
	Battalion Medevac mission included in Phil’s 13 books. Helicopter Rescues 
	Vietnam, Volume XI, and Phil's other 12 books as well, may be purchased by 
	going to 
	Amazon.com.”
	
	If you would like a copy signed by the author with a written dedication, any 
	of Phil’s 13 books may be purchased directly from him for $20.00 each, which 
	includes sales tax, postage, and handling. Send cash or check (payable to 
	Phil Marshall) for $20.00 per book with instructions on what book(s) you 
	want to order and where to send the book(s) and what, if anything, you would 
	like in the dedication. His address is 1063 Cardinal Dr., Enon, OH 45323, 
	the phone is 937-371-3643, and his e-mail is 
	dmz.dustoff@yahoo.com . You may 
	also use PayPal. Phone or e-mail Phil with any questions.
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