I called once for a corpsman in Vietnam on a hill called Con Thien, and for the tour I did the time I spent, I'd hear that call again and again.
A man lay dying; he took a rocket blast from about fifteen yards. No one heard it coming, the one that was supposed to kill you.
I changed the frequency of my radio and said corpsman up at the LZ, a man down, or something to that effect, then peered out of the bunker through the rest of that rocket attack.
The man hit was in such pain as he lay there bleeding in the rocket rain.
The corpsman came running with his bag of patches and pain killers, his heart full of compassion and care.
He knelt over the man, rockets still coming and tended to him the best he could.
That corpsman saved a man’s life that day by risking his own.
Corpsman up! Without you there would be more names on the wall.
Corpsman up! God bless you for answering the call.