Monday, September 12, 2016

Another War Memory

Dad was lucky to have never been on the leading edge of the fighting. Once they learned that he could type, he spent way more time than he wanted in Headquarters Company. Still, he made it out near the front at times. The only time that he was actually on the front was when he was assigned to help carry some wounded guys off a mountain the Philippines.

One guy was wounded in the leg and bleeding heavily, but the medic insisted on sending him down the mountain without treating him. Either a compression bandage or a tourniquet would probably have stopped the bleeding, but the medic insisted that the guy would be okay. Dad watched the life drain from the boy’s body as they tried to hurry him down the mountain. At the bottom, the next medic pronounced him dead. I do believe if the first medic had been there, Dad would have given him a piece of his mind (at the very least). He still got upset telling me about it thirty years later. © 2016


Lady Locust said...

Wow. I know there are so many stories like that and worse. Thank you to him and all those who served for us.

PS: a side note, one thing I miss since you quit work is your "riding shotgun." You've lived there long enough to know what things/places used to be. I thought it was a great way to see some country (vicariously of course.) I know you don't get to as many places as you did then, but if you happen by an old place with a fun memory, I'd love to see/hear about it. Just a thought.
Have a great evening.

Gorges Smythe said...

Every time a person dies, history is lost. LL. I really miss the driving, too, LL. I enjoyed seeing the places. I can't afford the gasoline to get out much these days, but I really should carry my camera with me in case something interesting crops up.