It was sometime in 1968, or 1969. The place was the Third Field Hospital, located near the Tan Son Nhut Air Base just northwest of Saigon in the Republic of Vietnam (pronounced Viet Nom in the South Vietnamese dialect). At the time I was working for the U.S. Army at the Tan Son Nhut AB as a civilian avionics technician. Our medical support was assigned to the Third Field Hospital. One day I had this very bad cold/flu and went to the hospital for sick call. After checking in I was directed to have a seat on a long wooden bench that was located outside, against the back wall of the hospital, and facing a large open space surrounded by a high wall. As it turned out this was no ordinary courtyard. It had several canopies installed to shield tables from the sun. The tables were the type that you might find in a medical operating room. Other than about six other patients seated on the bench waiting to see a doctor, no one else was present; it was very quiet.
Presently a set of large iron gates in the back wall of the court yard aggressively flung open, and very loud sounds of a Medivac helicopter filled the space. In came multiple stretchers laden with wounded military personal. Wounded hardly does justice to the scene; actually they were 'shot to hell!' It turns out that what was unfolding within a few feet of us was a triage unit working to save as many of these men as they could. They were hurriedly placed on the operating tables and the nurses immediately starting cutting off all of their clothing. Pants, belts, shirts, boot, socks, and whatever was removed and thrown to the ground. Other nurses and doctors were frantically injecting them with painkillers, even as most of them were wrenching in pain. The solder directly in front of me had bullet holes from his feet up to his chest. The one next to him was missing his leg from the knee down. Other injuries are too horrible to describe...I noticed one in the far corner was not being worked on at all...he was obviously in God's hands at that point. Periodically a doctor would shout to direct orderly personal to take them to one place or the other in the hospital. The orderlies would leave the triage area running toward the hospital door, with stretchers in hand. I remember saying a short prayer, and then thinking...I've got to get the hell out of here...now! Apparently at about the same time, the other patients on the bench reached the same conclusion, and the bench quickly cleared.
I only went back to the Third Field Hospital once after that, and I stayed for several days getting over the effects of a bad glass of water...gastroenteritis, I think they called it.
However, I do think about this incident periodically, especially when I hear of a civilian disrespecting the USA, its symbols, or the military personnel protecting it. These men gave more than should be required of a person to bring honor and respect to our nation, and left it all on the field of battle. They deserve our respect every time we get a chance to show it.

The End

PS: I have no doubt that without the urgent efforts and skill of those nurses and doctors, none of these men would be alive today! I hope they are!