2nd Place Military Combat Non Poetry
Johnny’s Story
Johnny had red hair, bright blue eyes, and was strong and healthy at age 19 in his hometown. He loved to play basketball with his friends, watch movies and go out for pizza and beer whenever he could. Then he received a letter ordering him to enter the U.S. Army to fight in Vietnam. It was not that he wanted that experience, but he was ready for an adventure, and in this case, he was sure to have it.
Johnny loved his unit in basic training and adapted well, then he was assigned to an infantry unit for further training and it filled his need for connection, comradery and adventure.
When they were shipped to Vietnam he felt prepared and knew they would each be there for one another and help each other out no matter what came up.
They fought well together and became like a well-oiled machine. The 25th infantry division could always count on the Wolfhounds, as they called themselves, to fight through bravely and accomplish their mission no matter what; the 2nd battalion and 27th infantry regiment is well respected.
In his fifth month in Vietnam, they were dropped into a hot landing zone and were fighting their way through the Viet Cong units trying to destroy them. It was more difficult than previous missions had been. At one point they were trapped between a VC unit and an ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam) unit and they were in the middle of their crossfire. They called for artillery support and that is when his world and life changed forever. The artillery was short and hit their unit. Johnny may have gotten the worst of it.
He was picked up by a dust-off helicopter and taken to the 12th Evacuation Hospital at Cu Chi where he went through triage’ and then on to our operating room (OR). I was scrubbed in and we had three different doctors looking at his body. Our orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Tom Travis was there, Dr. Henry our urologist, and a Dr. James Dynan a general surgeon. None of them knew what to do. Here was this healthy young man whose legs, buttocks, penis and testicles were blasted, blackened, and mutilated beyond recognition. What could they do? He was clearly alive and would continue to be, but what would be left of him after surgery? What could they repair and keep, and what would be left of his healthy body? How would he function?
The surgery was grueling for everyone. I was covered in Johnny’s blood, nothing unusual for me in Vietnam, with untold impact. His legs were amputated high up into his hips, so there was no place for artificial limbs to connect. His testicles and penis were repaired painstakingly by Dr. Henry, but physically, Johnny was literally— half a man. His body went from his head to his hips and there was nothing beyond that.
Because all war wounds are considered dirty, we could not close up the skin right then. We never close wounds immediately, because if we did the soldier would get gangrene and die. Johnny’s hips had skin flaps over them and were bandaged up. He went to recovery and then to post op where they soaked his bandages every four hours with saline solution to remove them, gave him antibiotics to prevent infection and then rebandaged them.
He returned to the OR three days later to have the skin flaps closed surgically, then was re-bandaged. I was the first one into the OR the morning Johnny was there to have his skin flaps closed. I saw him at the other end of the Quonset hut and started to go talk to him. When I saw who it was, something in me snapped and I ran out the door at the other end and was screaming, crying, yelling with my fist up in anger at the war and all the destruction. Someone found me at some point and took me to the chief nurse. I told her “get me out of the OR, put me on the malaria ward or something!” She sent me to a beach for a few days and back to duty.
Johnny was transported back to a veteran’s hospital near his hometown so he could continue to get medical care and recover. He had a good team of doctors, nurses, physical therapists, and a psychologist helping him recover but what seemed to help the most was having his buddies come visit and bring pizza and beer.
He would never walk again, dance, play basketball, or have a normal life. That was gone completely. He had no idea how he would live with only half a body. Sure, he could ride around in a wheelchair and his arms were strong. But would his psyche be OK with only having half a body? How could he get through that?
Our VA has many programs to help veterans like Johnny, but just as we could not save them all while in Vietnam, the VA cannot save them all after their return home.