Back to
the World
One Wounded
Marines Journey Home
by Dave Stromire
Echo 2/1
68-69
When
I was Still in
I always wondered about the
wounded in the Medevacs and where they went, how they were doing and if they would
they make it. Most of the wounded, even
though pretty bad, would live and were headed back to the world. Some whole, and some not whole.
This is the story, of my journey home. I know many wounded will relate and some may
not. Only because, their wounds were
more severe then mine. And for those who survived
I even checked in with our local Marine
recruiters once. I asked if they had any old leatherneck magazines. I wanted to
find out about
Here is my journey home from
Doc Bo and my squad carried me to the
waiting chopper. I could hear them
yelling over the loud whirling noise of the chopper blades, that I was going to
be OK and was going home. "Your going back to the world Dave, You’re
going Home." That was mid morning of
I remember lying on my belly, my legs were
twisted and conformed in all kinds of positions, while the major pieces of
shrapnel, was being removed from what used to look like legs. Then I
was bandaged up and hit again with morphine. That next day, I
was awakened out of morphine-induced sleep. A Marine Captain and his
aid with a black and white Polaroid camera handed me a Purple Heart, told me to
pose holding it and smile. After the picture was fully developed. He told me to write on the back of the
picture, and tell my Mom I was OK. He
put the picture in an envelope addressed to my parents and stamped and sealed
it. Then he took the Purple Heart back and went down the row of
beds, repeating the same thing with the other wounded. At the time, I
never had a second thought about it. I
just wanted a smoke.
I found Cigarettes tasted great on
morphine, but there had to be someone there to grab the
cigarette as the morphine put me out. When I woke up again I was on my way to
Even
to this day, I have not experienced that much pain. If it had not been
for the Corpsman, holding me down. I think I would have been jailed for
assaulting a Navy Officer. I used
every foul word a Marine ever came up with, and with tears in my eyes, I
threatened the Doctors life. He just smiled. It felt like my skin was
being peeled off from my legs. Just when they finished and I caught my
breath they actually began to scrub my wounds to purposely make them bleed so
they could heal from the inside out. The Nurse shot me up with morphine
and my legs were wrapped again. I laid back and lit a smoke, with
the nurse standing at the ready. In case
I fell off to sleep. But, not this time. I was going to enjoy being somewhat pain
free. I said, “Man I am glad
that is over”. That’s when half the ward broke out in laughter.
I asked “what is so funny”. The
Marine in the bed next to me said, “Hey, we get our dressing changed twice a
day here. And the pain does not get
any better”. What he said, turned out to be
very true.
When those double doors opened every morning
at eight, I cringed. The Doc, the
Nurse and Corpsman pushing the dressing cart came in those dreaded doors.
After a few days of that, one of the sweetest Navy Lt. Nurse started feeling sorry
for me. When the doors opened, she would
come down to my bed, and really soak my dressings with hydrogen peroxide and
hit me with a shot of morphine. There
was a row of about ten beds on each side of the room and I was on
the first row about eight beds up. So when that nightmare of a cart got to me. I was heavily under the influence of the
morphine. Removing my dressings was not so bad anymore, but they still
had to scrub my wounds. The morphine
really did not help with that, but when they were done with me I could somewhat
relax.
I went through two more surgeries and that’s
when the doctor told me I would never walk again. That both my legs had too
much nerve damage. My left foot was
fractured pretty bad when the mine blew off my boots and my right foot was bad
also. I had to sleep with my foot in a
box, so that nothing would touch it. Also,
I had a box on my wheel chair to protect my foot, because my right leg was
stuck out in front of me. It was called causalgia of the right foot. And I could not move my toes.
After 20 days in
From that time on, until they shipped me to
the States, I was treated as if I had leprosy and two of the head Corpsman,
screwed with me so much I just wanted out of there, and they knew it. So
twice a week when they called the names of those who were to go home they would
call my name. I wheeled up there all
excited then the head Corpsman would say “Stromire, it says here that you are
an ambulatory patient, and the only way you are getting on that plane, is when
you walk on”. So holding back my tears,
I tried to stand, but fell on my face. I climbed back into my wheelchair
and went back to my bed. Sometimes I was left for hours without any care.
Laying there naked humiliated and
with no bandages. I would write
home and tell my parents that I was OK, but I think they forgot me laying here.
Then one day when the Two Corpsman who had
it in for me, were off duty. I
heard my name called to go home. I wheeled up there, this time not so
excited, but with a small ounce of hope. I asked them at the desk, “did I hear my name
Right? Am I going home?” He said “Yep Dave; we have a stretcher waiting
for you now”. I was told I was going to a
"My
great big beautiful freedom bird!" As I was taken out towards the
plane. I set up and gave that Hospital and those jerks my middle
finger. The plane had beds strapped along the walls about three high.
There were maybe about forty Marines, and we had a beautiful Round Eyed air
force Nurse to every ten Marines. They were like airline stewardess, always
checking on us, seeing if we needed anything. So much better then the way I was treated at
Yakuska
We were driving north on a California
Freeway. I was setting up just looking
at all the Americans in total Awe. The
ambulance driver and his friend were just laughing at all the stupid comments I
was making. When that congested freeway would slow to a snail pace. I would sit up and smile, and soak it all in.
When we got to the Hospital, I was brought through the main lobby doors. I was sitting up looking at all the people
going about there own business. They probably thought I was just in
a car accident. They had no idea I was
coming back from
After I was assigned my ward and bed, I
immediately saw a big difference from the Navy personal here, then in
now
and do not come in here messing with my Marines”.
The Lt. told me to sign my name, and handed
me my check. Even though I was
unfortunate to have a bad experience with the Corpsman in
My time in Oak Knoll was filled with good
days and bad. The bad days, consisted of many Spinal Taps, trying to find the
right nerves to sever in my spinal cord, to deaden the pain to my right
foot. And (many) other surgery's which have done nothing for my drop foot
and chronic pain.
I also had many, many great times. I was lucky that the hospital was in
After many, more spinal taps with that very
long needle. My Doctor found the nerve
that was causing all the pain. He went
in through my side and cut the nerve. This
relieved the sensitivity enough that I could finally put a sock and shoe on
that foot. After coming to the
conclusion that nothing more could be done for me I would just have to suffer
the pain, the rest of my life. Or, I
could have the same thing done on the other side, which would completely numb
me and kill my sex life. I agreed with their first opinion! So I was
sent home to wait for my Military discharge.
I was one Happy Marine. I was finally going Home. I even put my uniform on, and I was driven to
the
Unfortunately there were two dirty long hair
hippy types in the seat in front of us. One
of them turned around and asked me. “How Many Baby's did you Kill?"
He immediately got a champagne bottle up side his head. The other one got
a champagne shampoo. I was not going to
waste my Rum on the likes of them two. The whole train car broke out in
laughter and clapped for us.
When I arrived in