On July 20, 1969 many thousands of miles from earth, man first set foot on the moon. A small step for man, a giant step for mankind.
Far below, back on earth, in a little spot, called Quan Loi, one of many US base camps located in Vietnam. I was just a one year out of high school, I found myself wearing jungle fatigues and carrying a M16 rifle. I was a Fire Direction & Intelligence Specialist. Just 20 years old and I was the Section Chief with responsibility for four other soldiers my age. Our job was to coordinate artillery and naval gun fire in support of the 11th Armored Cavalry troopers. The day had been pretty much the same as many days before with one small exception. Usually, around noon when it was time to eat, the Viet Cong would launch a mortar and rocket attack on us. Funny what you can get used to. Well, lunch came and went, with no attack. Around 2pm, I decided to take a shower. You might wonder, "A shower?. What kind of base camp was this?" One of the talents common to most soldiers, is the ability to create something out of almost nothing. While out riding around the base, just kinda looking into this and that, I had obtained a 50-gal drum, a shower head, and some discarded lumber. We screwed the head into the bottom of the drum, built a frame to hold it up about 8 feet in the air, and used some "found" ponchos as sides. When the water truck passed by, the driver would just happen to spill 50-gal of water into the drum. After sitting all day in the hot Vietnam sun, the water was pretty warm. Instant shower when needed!
So there I was having just completed my shower, had gotten a coke out of our buried mermite can (insulated can used to keep food cold or hot). A mermite can, buried in the ground, cools a coke somewhat. Don't ask how we came into possession of the can. My ears were suddenly assaulted by a loud explosion and felt a hot blast of air on my right leg. My hand had gone instinctively to my leg and as I looked at my hand, I saw blood running out between my fingers.
I grabbed my M-16 looking for something to shoot. I quickly discovered that there was nothing to shot at. We were under a mortar and rocket attack. A 122mm rocket had landed outside my tent. A piece of the rotating band about the size of quarter had taken up residence in my leg.
A medic soon arrived and began working on my leg. I noted that he was drunk and he said, "Yes, but I can still do my job"; and he could. They moved me from there by stretcher, then by truck, followed by a helicopter ride. Fortunately, the shrapnel had missed the bones and had stopped just before exiting the back of my leg. For not ducking, I was awarded the Purple Heart. I spent the next couple months in various hospitals recovering. During my recovery I was awarded a second Purple Heart, but that is another story. You know even to this day, I do not remember what I did with my coke. Did I throw it, did I crush it, or......did someone drink my coke......ok who drank my coke!
