BRIGHT EYES

PREFACE
In 1996, my wife began to tell me of a yearling deer, a doe, that had started to come into our yard during the day. Very small,obviously stunted by the harsh winter we had just endured, she would pass up my flowers (except my tulips which she ate as they opened), and my vegetables, instead feeding at my bird feeder, which she emptied daily. This annoyed me, but since it gave my wife great pleasure to see the doe every day, I did nothing, except change the mixture to provide better nutrition for the doe.
One Sunday morning in May, we were sitting outside under a tree near the feeder, having coffee and reading the paper. Suddenly, my wife whispered "Har, look, here comes Bright Eyes." I froze as if hit by a jolt of electricity!! I couldn't breathe or move for what seemed like minutes. How?? Where?? Can it be?? A thousand thoughts and memories flooded my mind, as did vivid images I hadn't thought of in years. Finally, I slowly turned my head towards where my wife was looking, there not 20 feet away, was this tiny skinny doe, coming around the corner of my workshop. She browsed the grass as she came, then looked at me with the biggest shiniest blackest eyes I'd seen in 28 years. I slowly got up, went into the house, ignoring my wife's questions of where was I going and what was wrong. I went into our bedroom and for the first time in our marriage, I closed the door between us.
I never explained myself to her that day, and have never told her this story. So unless she some day reads it here, she may never know Why.

The Wounded

It was Oct 1968, and 1st Platoon Bravo Co was again assigned to guard the bridge I believe was at Vinh Long. We had been there a few days earlier, so I felt comfortable in the knowledge that I knew the area somewhat. The road was familiar, the buildings were familiar, I even knew one of the buildings across the road was a Vietnamese clinic of some type, and it was manned all night long. This was a good sign, as if the VC were expected to strike, those people would not be there, or so we thought.
As was my normal routine, I was up on the .50 pulling my watch, looking at the sun going down, when I noticed some activity down the road to the west. People were coming out of their hootches to look at something, then head back. Then I could see a group of civilians coming up the road, carrying several obviously hurt people. They came up the road and directly past my position: there were, I think, 8 injured--6 adults and 2 children I believe, one adult on a home-made litter,the children being carried, all injured to some extent. They went to the clinic, so I felt they would be taken care of.
I could look directly into the door, and I saw one little girl, about 5 or 6, laying face down on a litter, not moving. The LT said he was going to go see what had happened, he told me to get my meds and come with him. Through sign language and help from our Tiger scout, we learned they were a family and had been hit with mortar fire in their hootch. One old man had a arm nearly blown off at the elbow, the rest had shrapnel wounds and burns of various sizes, from minor to serious. The little girl on the litter was just laying there; at first I thought she was in deep shock, then I noticed her eyes. They were huge in proportion to her face, black as black can be,and full of life and brightness. I mentally named her BRIGHT EYES and started to look for her injury.

Bright Eyes

Nothing exposed was injured, no blood on her clothes, I suspected concussion damage when one of the women came over and gently rolled up her shirt. There in the small of her back was a hole the size of a golf ball. I could see pieces of rib showing, and at the right angle I could see motion deeper in, which I was horrified to realize was her intestines digesting her noon meal. There was no blood at all, the wound was cauterized. I never had seen anything like it before (or after either). Someone mentioned White Phosphorus, which the VC were not supposed to have, but we did. The family did not say the Americans did it, but the look in their eyes said they thought so.
I noticed the clinic people were only washing the wounds and not even bandaging them, so I asked why. That's when I learned this was a birthing clinic, and the attendants were midwives, not doctors or nurses. They were neither trained or supplied to deal with these kinds of injuries, and expected me to do it. I could cover their wounds, but I could not spare the needed items to even begin to properly treat these people without shorting our own people. If the VC hit us, I needed what I had for my people. I took what I felt I could spare, but it wasn't much, and showed the midwives what to do. The LT and I went out, he asked my opinion. I told him the old man and the little girl were very bad off, the whole family needed to be hospitalized and have surgery to clean and close the wounds. Could I hold them till morning? I looked back into the clinic, running an assessment of injuries and appearances, and I looked at Bright Eyes. She was staring at me, not crying, not whimpering, just looking at me as if to say, Is this how it is for everyone? I told the LT I was not a Doctor, but my guess was the little girl would die during the night, the old man by sunup, the others would survive unless I missed something, which I doubted.
The LT went back into the clinic and asked if the family would be willing to be flown to a hospital for help. One of the women nodded yes, the old man looked up then at me, he was terrified of the idea. The LT and I went to his track and requested a Dustoff, explaining the situation. We were told they did not evacuate civilians, try the ARVNS. The LT tried someone else, they also did not offer help. It was obvious that we were not going to find anyone who would come for these civilians.
.

Viet Cong?

I noticed several of the platoon members were by the clinic, looking at what was going on. Not only did they have the injured, but they had a mother delivering a baby at the same time. Guys were pacing back and forth muttering to themselves, frustration quickly mounting. Weren't these the people we were here to help?? Why weren't they getting the help they needed from us? Who did this,the VC?? Let's find them. Our guys??? Let's kick the S.O.B.'s a--es.
The Lt discussed taking 2 tracks to run the road to the nearest hospital. Not a good idea, deserting a post to make a unauthorized run past at least 6 ARVN checkpoints; if the VC didn't ambush us, the ARVNs most likely would try to blow us off the road. If we made it, Courts martial and Long Binh Jail most likely were our reward. Yet I have no doubt that if the Lt had asked for volunteers, the whole platoon would have gone. But luck intervened, one of the old timers stuck his head into the LT's track and said "You know,the bastards would be here in a minute if these were wounded VC." The Lt and I looked at each other, you could hear the thought processes grinding madly in our heads.
We went back to the clinic,the Lt was speaking English to these poor wounded people, and using sign language too. Are you VC? No! Do you know any VC?? No. I was amazed he was getting answers at all. Where VC?? No Answer. Where VC?? No answer. WHERE ARE THE VC?? the Lt yelled. This time one of the women yelled back VC DI DI and waved her arm towards the west.

Med Evac

BINGO,the Lt ran up the hill to his track, I told the ladies it was going to be ok, I went to Bright Eyes and gently touched her hair and face. She did not budge, but gave me a weak tiny smile, or so I thought.
By the time I got back to the LT's track he was on the radio with someone. He was telling them he felt he had people with knowledge of the VC's whereabouts, that while he couldn't be sure due to the language problem, he felt at least 2 of the men were probably VC and possibly more. After a few minutes, there was a callback that a chopper was coming out for the wounded VC, how many where there? The Lt looked at me, said "In for a penny, in for a pound" and answered 8. First time I ever wanted to kiss another man. I think half the platoon went to get those people, we came up with litters for those who needed them. I very gently moved Bright Eyes onto one, told her mother to stay with her and went to look for the chopper. In a few minutes it was there, and I motioned for the litters. A crewman jumped off the chopper and came to me. He told me they were to only take the adult male VC, no females or children. I told him we reported 8 VC, he said he knew that, but his HQ thought we were pulling a fast one, so they said no women, no children.
I knew he wouldn't go against orders,so I went to appeal to the pilot, hoping he would see my point. As I approached I could see he was looking at me and already shaking his head NO. The Lt was on the radio, apparently also trying to get the pilot to accept these people on humanitarian grounds. As I stood there feeling angry and frustrated, I noticed the pilot's gaze shift over my shoulder, then he suddenly stiffened up into a seated attention. I turned to see several armed ARVNs standing just outside the helicopter's rotor arc, and another man approaching the chopper. Once inside the arc, he stood up and walked up to the pilot's window, next to me. He pulled his shirt lapel forward, giving the pilot a good look at his Colonel's eagle. The pilot shook his head yes. The Colonel pointed at the wounded and then the chopper and then his Eagle. The pilot again shook his head yes. The Colonel then motioned for the people to be loaded. As that was done, we looked at the pilot, he saluted the Colonel, gave me a thumbs up, and we moved away from the chopper..

Aftermath

We watched the chopper fly into the night,and listened to its sounds. I looked at the Colonel, trying to find a way to thank him when he said, Soon as I heard the civilians had become VC, I knew it had to be you! I just had to come to be sure, and it is you. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
Doc, my medic is leaving in 2 weeks and I need a replacement. I've got 6 months to go, the duty is a lot easier than being with a line unit. Sleep in our compound, mostly day trips to check outposts, 3 hots a day and a 1000 ARVNS to keep you safe. You take care of my team, and I'll see you get any job you want when I leave. I was surprised to say the least.
Colonel, I'm with these guys about a month now, I'm just starting to feel at home with them, and I think they are starting to feel the same way with me. If I left them for a safer job with you, I'd never feel right, especially if I heard one of them got hit and I wasn't there. Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather stay with them.
I figured you'd say something like that. Just thought it would be easier keeping you out of trouble having you work for me. Good night Doc". He turned and started away, he said over his shoulder "I'm getting to old for this sh_t, I need some sleep. It was about 3 am.
I heard the next day that all the wounded were treated, that 6 had been patched up and sent home. The old man lost his arm at the elbow, and he and Bright Eyes were in a large civilian hospital, but expected to live. That was the last time I remember being at that bridge, and I never saw the Colonel again.