What It Was Really Like As A Medic In The Vietnam War

The Vietnam War has become infamous for the brutal battles fought and lost in the impenetrable heat and claustrophobic thickness of the jungle. Following American soldiers into the line of fire, hoping to prevent them from becoming yet more casualties, were their medics.

Medics trained alongside other troops, but their job in the field was to patch up their comrades when the bullet, grenade, or shell with their name on it found its target. Without body armor or even bulletproof helmets, medics were in as much danger as their comrades — and sometimes more. While soldiers could hunker down during bombardments, the medic ran towards the enemy to find the wounded, often with little more than a few bandages, some morphine, and a pair of blunt scissors, and little to no medical training. 

Even when the guns were silent, medics were in charge of soldiers' general health, treating them for diseases from malaria to foot rot and unwelcome souvenirs picked up at brothels. This is what it was really like as a medic in the Vietnam War.

Like other soldiers, combat medics were trained in fitness drills, firearms (unless they were conscientious objectors), and how not to get shot. Medical training lasted ten weeks and revolved around triaging battle wounds.

Vietnam combat medic Stephen Dunn recalled learning "how to give shots, bandage and carry the injured, apply tourniquets and morphine." Fellow Vietnam combat medic Roger Buchta said medics also learned how to treat shock and administer an IV, as well as basic anatomy. After that, the medics worked at base clinics until receiving their orders to deploy to Vietnam.

Unlike in other wars, Vietnam medics carried weapons. According to We Are the Mighty, most had an M16A1 rifle, a .45 caliber pistol, and grenades. Like the infantrymen, they didn't have body armor or bulletproof helmets.

Medics were also distinct from infantrymen in some ways. Vietnam combat medic Rafael Matos wrote in The New York Times that they didn't have to worry about their appearance, and they didn't have to take orders that conflicted with lifesaving care. Medics weren't supposed to fight, although Matos says he was ordered to perform at least one infantry-related task. Vietnam combat medic Wayne Smith admitted that the heat of battle got to him. "I wanted to be a medic to save lives... But when I was in combat I was tainted by this blood lust and I, too, became a combat soldier."

Fortunately not every day as a medic in Vietnam meant running into battles and treating grievously injured soldiers. When they were relatively remote from the action or in times of relative peace, the medics focused on caring for the soldiers' general health. In the jungle, that meant reminding soldiers to take their malaria tablets and stay hydrated. In The New York Times, Vietnam combat medic Rafael Matos recalls mundane tasks like administering tetanus shots and treatments for head lice.

Many soldiers encountered one particular health issue while stationed on bases further out. In 1968, Dr. David Cromwell was a licensed doctor in Maryland, a qualification that allowed him to direct commission as an officer and physician. Later in the war he was sent to the Ashah Valley, but for his first few months he ran a clinic at a base in Saigon, where the most common complaint was sexually transmitted diseases (STDs), often picked up from brothels.

However, Cromwell says, for soldiers trekking through the jungle, the most common ailment — aside from artillery and bullets — was foot or jungle rot. Caused by having wet feet for a long period of time, this could be prevented by changing into dry socks as often as possible and was easily treatable if caught early. However, Cromwell noted, some soldiers felt that staying quiet and losing a toe was a small price to pay for escaping back to the U.S.

Medics went into battle with very limited supplies – as many bandages, gauze rolls, and morphine syringes as they could carry or persuade others to carry, and possibly an IV bag and a pair of scissors. According to Dr. David Cromwell, physicians didn't get more than a stethoscope.

The phrase "BandAid over a bulletwound" is grimly close to what they were able to accomplish. But the combat medics' purpose was to patch up their comrades well enough that they could be moved to an area accessible by helicopter.

Gary Michael Rose was a Special Forces combat medic who received the Medal of Honor in 2017 for saving the lives of 60-plus men over a four-day mission in Laos in 1970. He told the Army's website, "Your job, as a medic, is to maintain the person's life. That is, to keep them out of shock, to stop the bleeding, and also as much as possible prevent infection if you could."

From the battlefield, the wounded would be medevaced to an aid station, which had more resources to deal with severe injuries. From there, the worst cases would be flown on to a more remote and better equipped hospital, for example in Saigon, or even to a ship hospital like the U.S.S. Sanctuary, anchored mainly in Da Nang. Those who recovered were often sent back out to fight again.

Medical evacuation missions carried out by UH-1 Iroquois helicopters ("Hueys") became known as Dustoffs, after a call sign used by the first iteration of this type of helicopter in the 57th Medical Detachment. They were crewed by four people — a pilot, an aircraft commander, a medic, and a crew chief. When they landed, the medic and crew chief were responsible for loading the wounded into the back on litters, where they could administer further first aid, including blood transfusions and fluids via IVs.

Addressing the Congressional Committee on Veteran Affairs in 2003, Retired Chief Warrant Officer Michael J. Novosel, who was awarded the Medal of Honor for a mission in Vietnam, said of the Dustoff crews he'd worked alongside, "To appreciate the sacrifices they made, one has to understand the magnitude and intensity of the task... They kept men with traumatic amputations, sucking chest wounds, bullet riddled bodies alive... They were under intense physical and mental pressure."

Flying into the middle of battles in the chaos of the jungle, the Dustoff crews were at a high risk of getting hit, either with a bullet or artillery. The casualty rate is estimated to have been as high as a third. Unsurprisingly, these crews — like all combat medics — were highly respected by soldiers. However, as Novosel explained at the 2003 hearing, because Dustoff crews are technically assigned to aviation units, they still are not eligible for the Combat Medic's Badge.

According to The Washington Post, as many as 15,000 women served in Vietnam with the U.S. military. Most were nurses working in combat hospitals. Even away from the battlefield, combat medicine wasn't an easy job. Nurses worked 12 hours a day, six days a week, caring for soldiers with horrifying injuries. Adding to the challenges, some of the makeshift hospitals had no running water or air conditioning.

Many of the nurses came straight from nursing college, with no practical experience of emergency nursing, let alone combat nursing. Former U.S. Army nurses Diane Carlson Evans and Marsha Four, who both served in Vietnam, explained that part of their anxiety about being in the war zone was that their under-preparedness would result in soldiers' deaths. "To say 'challenging' doesn't come close to the feelings that I had about being incompetent. Their lives were in my hands. I was responsible for them," Four later told Whyy.

After their tours, many nurses — like many medics and soldiers — struggled to readjust to life in the U.S. In addition to dealing with repressed emotional trauma, they found civilian nursing frustratingly unchallenging, hampered by regulations that prevented them from performing basic tasks they'd done every day in the field.

In 1984, Carlson Evans launched a campaign for a memorial to the women who'd served in Vietnam, which was finally approved and unveiled near the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in 1993.

Medical staff who served in Vietnam felt the immense responsibility of treating soldiers with terrible injuries, often while under fire themselves, and with very little equipment or training. Some also witnessed atrocities carried out by their own side, as Rafael Matos wrote in The New York Times. 

Many experienced post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and other psychological issues — not to mention long-term effects of chemical weapons like Agent Orange. As nurse Diane Carlson Evans explained to The Washington Post, medical staff learned to repress their emotions at the time so they could do their jobs. Her friend and fellow veteran nurse Edie Meeks said, "You had to shut your emotions down... There were so many traumatic things that happened."

As sentiment in the U.S. turned against the war, the hostile attitudes of American civilians towards veterans prevented many from finding an outlet once they were home. Many were haunted by nightmares, memories of specific incidents or soldiers they'd lost, and suicidal thoughts. In 2018, Matos wrote, "Unexpected flashbacks still haunt me... I can go into stress if I smell a rare steak... I can suddenly imagine the stench of gunpowder and cordite in the air."

Through therapy, new jobs, veteran centers, and more surprising sources, former medical staff of the Vietnam War found their way back to civilian life. But as Vietnam nurse Joanie Moscatelli told Whyy, "I don't think the war ever ends."