S Huish's story

THE DAY WE GOT SHOT DOWN
By DAN HUISH
WAR WAGON GUNNER
Tape Transcription by Don Callison
Copyright 1998

The 4th of JULY 1970....
We made one pass and took fire. I saw the muzzle and the smoke come out of the bunker. It was a cement bunker down there in the river. I hollered, “Taking fire”, on the first pass. The Cobras came in and gave some cover. I saw some more muzzle flashes in the treeline, I said, “Bill, get the guy in the bunker with the minigun”. I laid on the trigger of the M-60 into the treeline and was getting ready to throw a Willie Pete. That’s when I felt my hand get hit.

Bam! Like that, my hand flew up and back against the door frame. A bullet went through my finger and into the White Phosphorous grenade. I think it was that one that went off. Ray Burdette said he saw the one in my hand drop toward the ground so the one that exploded in the helicopter might have been one that was in the frag bag between my legs because the burst came right through the door.

The guy with an AK got right in there. Two rounds came through my left leg. One came up through my butt. I don’t know if any bullets hit my chicken plate or not. But then, I didn’t remember much. I do remember seeing blood spurt out of my knee, the cockpit was full of white smoke and I could see flames coming around from behind the instrument panel. I thought to myself, “Well fuck it, I’m dead”.

I didn’t feel us hit the ground. I had passed out before we crashed. I remember Ray laying me down off of his shoulder onto the floor in the back of Rick Waite’s ship. I could feel the ridges on the floor digging into me. I could see out of one eye, I could see Burdett, I wanted to touch him and let him know I was alive. I lost consciousness again.

We got to the aid station. I think it was Vinh Long. I woke up. There was a big guy rapidly pushing up and down on my chest. I thought it was a bad guy. I don’t know what I said but I started fighting him. I didn’t know that I’d had a heart attack and he was giving me CPR.

I woke up again a little later and I think they were trying to sew my finger back on. I looked around and started yelling, “Where’s Bill, where’s Bill, where’s my pilot”? They couldn’t calm me down until they wheeled him into the operating room. I looked over, he was all burned and black. I couldn’t see too well but I had one eye open and I could barely see him. That’s when I said, “You don’t look so good”. He told me, ”You look worse”. I had no idea. I saw that his foot was broke up then I lost consciousness again.

They med-evaced me to Can Tho but they couldn’t move me from there for about 5 days. I had 2 more cardiac arrests and they wouldn’t transfer me because I was too unstable.

The next time I woke up I was in a slick, I think I was going to the 93rd Surgical Hospital at Long Binh. The medic was there beside me. I was laying on the floor, the ride was real smooth in the dustoff ship. Maybe it just seemed smooth because I was flying so high on all the morphine they were giving me. As I woke up I saw there were about 3 tubes of blood and other liquid hanging and going into me. I knew I was burned. I looked a my arms an watched the skin fall off them. It was all nice and pink under there where the charred chunks fell away.

During the crash I had literally eaten the instrument panel. I didn’t know it but along with some teeth, my lips and nose were nearly gone. I begged the medic for a cigarette but he wouldn’t give me one. I found out later that he didn’t know where to stick it. He yelled over the noise of the Huey, “Your face is all burned off and ya ain’t got no mouth”! I made him put in a Marlboro cigarette into something. He lit it and stuck it in corner of what was left of my mouth then he went back talking to the pilot. The morphine was great, smooth flight, no bumpsJ. I was laying there and he forgot about me. With my one good eye I watched that cigarette as it kept getting shorter and shorter and I was trying to get the medic’s attention. “Hey”! Shit! The ash fell off and went in what was left of my nose and I couldn’t breathe. He turned and saw what was happening. He was in tears while he tried to get the ashes out of my face. He lost it when I scratched and pulled some meat off of my arm. He leaned over and puked out the side of the Huey.

The burn ward at the hospital at Camp Zama was the worse thing I had ever seen. Never have seen anything written about it. It was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. Watched guys die every other day there. I was there for about 3 months. They tried to move me to San Antonio but I had another heart attack. I got gangrene on the left leg. They were going to amputate but another Doc said it just needed to be in traction. While I was in traction I found out that my best friend from when I was in high school was in a bed just across the ward. He’d had his jaw blown off when his track hit a mine. He helped me out of traction and we went to town to party. Really pissed the people off in the hospital.

1970
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