The Medic

A war story by 

Norman E. Hooben, MSgt, USAF Retired 

Not everyone who goes to war is caught up in the shoot-‘em-up scenes depicted in war movies.  Some of us are content to doing our jobs behind the lines…psychologically it had a sense of safety.  But it wasn’t always that way.

There were occasions where we were sitting up on the Sentry Dog’s kennel roof watching fire fights on the horizon while drinking beer and smoking cigarettes in the middle of the night.  This happened on more than one occasion, and we could not tell who the enemy was.  Tracers (a bullet coated with wax that would burn in flight) could be seen going from left to right, and right to left.  Who were the VC (Viet Cong) and who were the Americans; we didn’t know.  That is, until one night the tracers were clearly coming from the right…kicking up dirt where we played horseshoes during daylight.  Thinking we were on the ground was probably the reason they were aiming low, but that gave us time to get off the roof to retrieve our M16’s which we kept by our bunks.  So that was about as close to seeing some real action and that sense of safety was lost momentarily.

Then there was the time we got two rockets which presumably were aimed at the flight line…we were between the flight line and where the rockets landed.  Both duds!  Just how lucky can this guy be?  When you heard the whistling of incoming rockets and the warning radioed to us by the army ("Tan Son Nhut, alert condition red take cover." they repeated over and over.), the thought of this being my last day on earth was definitely right up there with my family and a lifetime of thoughts that whisked by in a flash. (By the way, “duds” means nothing happened.)

We worked 12-hour days 7 days a week even though there was not enough work to fill a 12-hour shift…sometimes we played horseshoes.

While doing my job that I was trained to do there was one other exciting moment that I guess qualified me for combat pay…maybe being shot at also counts?  Describing it as an exciting moment may be an understatement…the whole ordeal lasted about 2 seconds. 

While treating an injured military dog the entire concrete floor of our small clinic rolled in a wave-like motion as if you were shaking out the crumbs from a tablecloth and the walls buckled inwards, yet everything fell back into place as if nothing happened.  We were caught in the shock wave of a 500 pounder (that’s a bomb) dropped into a nearby field from and A1E (aircraft) that avoided the runway due to having only one landing wheel.

So that’s the extent of my war stories except for the time spent off duty.  We had a country and western band that played throughout the Saigon area NCO and Officers’ clubs.  There were several U.S. Army clubs, one Air Force, and one Marine club.  We also played at the general’s promotion party (that would be the 3^rd Army Field Hospital next to MACV Qtrs.)  Probably the highlight gig was the time I was contacted by the State Department to have the band play on Armed Forces television…great show!

Now the time frame this story takes place would include all the country artist’s songs of the day…including some oldies.  Hank Williams, Charlie Pride, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton, and several others were just a number of songs our lead singer, Hank Dauphin, knew by heart and he belted them out flawlessly in a two hour show with a break halfway in between.  Did we have a favorite?  Yes, but it was none of the above.  It was a song sung twice, once during the first half of the show and when we closed for the night…with a round of applause from about one-hundred or more war-weary G.I.’s  waiting for those “Silver Wings” to take them back state-side (That’s what we called home.).

Now this favorite song of ours was truly ours, for it was a collaboration of several people including the name mentioned above, Hank Dauphin, and there was Jim Kay, myself and others whose names I’ve forgotten over the years.

Yes, we wrote the most popular song in Saigon…it was even more popular than a hit song back state-side called the “Green Beret” …here it is, The Medic!

Medic Song

A young G.I. soldier on leave in Saigon
Was stopped by two MP's, they said pardon young man,

There's blood on your cap n’ there's blood on your sleeve,
And we may have to cancel your seven-day leave.

The young G.I. said, Sir, now don't take me wrong
For I've just returned from a place call Khe-sahn,

Where the hardships are many and the comforts are few
And brave men are dying for me and for you.

Don't have much money 'cause I don't draw much pay
Just came into Saigon to spend a few days.

Won't bother your women or drink up your wine
Just writing a few letters for a friend of mine

You see, last week my best buddy got shot in the chest
And, as I held him, he told me with his last dying breath

Please write to my mother, please write to my girl,
And tell them I loved them as I left this world.

He left those two MP's with tears in their eyes,
Stayed there three days and went back to his guys.

For he was a medic and his future was made
The dying and wounded would need his first aid.

Southern Playboys
U.S. Forces Television Studio Saigon, Vietnam
circa 1971

Norman Hooben: Medic Song
By the way, I’m a Medic