11 November 2009 Veterans’ Day

Three inches of rain fell in the last two days. Cassi Creek is raging down the valley. It is higher and faster than we’ve ever seen it before. It is following a new overflow channel through part of our yard. Fortunately the rain seems to have ended. Now we just have to wait for the creek to drop. .

I hope this raft is tied off. The creek was still rising when I took this photo this morning.

I hate Veterans’ Day. There’s a lot I could say, much of it repetitive, little of which might make any difference. I hate the loss of friends who need not have died. I hate the feeling that every medic or corpsman, nurse, or doctor lives with; knowing that we couldn’t save all our wounded but wanting desperately to have done so.

It’s my corner today:

Hey, Doc

Twelve long hours of humping, setup just before it's dark,

Twelve hours going up and down never on the flat ground,

Twelve hours busting jungle, staying off the trails,

And all I want is time to sleep but the men have all come round,


Saying, "Doc, I’ve got the bug again, my fevers going up."

"Doc, I've got a blister here, that hurts me when I walk."

"Hey, Doc, I got the clap again, got anything for that?"

"Say, Doc, if you can spare the time, I really need to talk."



They're tired and they're homesick. They're dehydrated, sick.

They know they'll face the same routine tomorrow,

They've lost a lot of buddies to VC booby traps,

They're half used up by tension, half by sorrow.



“Doc, I need some salt pills, Doc, I've got a rash"

"Doc, I'm out of bug repellant, have you got a spare?"

"Doc, I got the dysentery, have you got some pills?"

"Doc, I’m scared as hell and no one cares."



Crashing with the CP group, center of the circle,

Rapping' with the radio watch to help 'em stay awake,

Doze in twenty-minute snatches, never more than that,

God, I'd never make it without the pills to take.



“Hey, Doc, got a cigarette, my whole squad's are wet."

"Thanks for staying up with me, Doc, I'm so tired tonight."

"Hey, Doc, my wife's divorcing me; help me get some leave,"

"Hey, Doc, if I get hit, you'll come and get me, right?



And I listen to their problems 'til the morning's nearly come,

Because I'm not a squad mate they can ask in confidence.

But I don't want to know them; they're all so close to dying,

To come to know them breaks down my defenses.



"Hey, Doc, will I make it, Hey, Doc, OH, God! It hurts!"

"Doc, can't you give me something for the pain?'

"Doc, my legs are missing, I don't want to be a cripple."

Till I never want to hear, "Hey, Doc!" again.



I'm the Doc for all of them, but who's the Doc for me?

How can I keep going knowing some are going to fall?

Like children, small and helpless, wounded, they believe in me."

And I've got to find some way to save them all.



"Doc, I can't feel my fingers, Doc, I can't move my legs"

"Doc, give me something stronger for the pain."

"Doc, they shot my balls off! Don't save me, let me die"

"Hey, Doc, What’s wrong, you got that desperate look again?"