Phu Quac Medic

Incident at Phu Quoc island at the tip of Vietnam and Cambodia. Medical rescue and air medical air evacuation may, 1972

After six years as a medic, RMK-BRJ assigned me to Phu Quoc Island, located at the most southern end tip of Vietnam and Cambodia. The company was building and installing surface type radar equipment on several island peaks to warn of any approaching enemy boats or ships. This work-site was somewhat monotonous for me since there was a skeleton workforce here. The only break in my boredom was reading emergency management and disease treatment manuals.  Previous work sites kept me very busy, for two years, I was the only American medic taking care of 3000 Vietnamese workers 24 hours a day, seven days a week, at Cam Ranh Bay. 

At Chu Lai, the employees numbered about 500, which included American supervisors, Vietnamese, Korean, and Philippine workers.  Once a week or when needed, I would hop on a US government  CIA controlled Air America Huey helicopter and island-hop to other small island work sites that did not have an on-site medic for sick calls or medical emergency response. While flying on Air America Huey chopper, I was very aware that if we were forced down by enemy ground fire and captured, the Viet Cong would assume that I was a CIA agent and would treat me without mercy. I was very aware of the risks l and accepted the assignment without question. Its my job.

 

It was one of those mornings that I walked from my dispensary, which sat off the side of the end of the AnThoi runway where the company employees were offloading supplies from a Sky Van aircraft. The Sky Van airplane was twin-engine,  multiple roles transport short take-off and landing aircraft. It looked like a freight train boxcar.  I positioned myself behind the front end of the hood of a pickup truck and watched the final process of unloading. The Sky Van's right turboprop engine was idle, with the left turboprop running, which resulted in a deafening whine, with blasts of air that felt good in the humid heat of the late morning. I then observed an Australian national, and RMK-BRJ employee supervisor, walking down the aircraft's rear ramp. I didn’t know him well, but the scuttlebutt was that he was somewhat of a jokester who overdid his nightly whiskey. One story is that he stenciled with red spray paint a kangaroo on all of the barges living quarter’s doors, causing the displeasure of the site project manager. 

As the Australian excited he walked around the left side of the aircraft, he had a silly grin on his face and appeared distracted, looking off to the left side as he walked toward the roaring whining turbo propeller. Suddenly I saw the co-pilot run out of the rear of the aircraft chasing after him, yelling something inaudible. He caught up with him within a few feet from the spinning propeller, and as he grabbed him around the waist, the co-pilot fell to his knees, the Australian pitched forward falling. There was a sickening metallic thud sound as the tip of the spinning propeller struck the top of the Australians head. He fell under the propeller and convulsed several times. An American supervisor screamed, “he’s dead! He’s dead!”.  I grabbed my combat medical pack, and while running to the Australian, I heard a warning shouts, “watch the prop! Watch the prop!” as I ran around the prop giving it a wide berth. Crouching, I moved to the front of the screaming, whining almost invisible propeller then dropped to the tarmac on my left side with feet facing the prop, cautiously crawling under the whining blasting prop to reach the injured Australian. I had to focus on keeping my arms and hands down to avoid having them chopped off by the prop while checking and clearing his airway of secretions and placing a bite block between his clenched teeth. Being concerned about neck injuries, I cradled his neck and head in my left arm and, with my right arm, grabbed him around his waist. By digging my heels into the tarmac, little by little, I managed to push ourselves out from under the screaming propeller. About 15 feet in front of the propeller, I knelt over him and made an emergency medical assessment: his pulse was steady regular but weak, he did not appear to be breathing which caused me to initiate mouth to mouth breathing, after five or six breaths he started breathing on his own. Inspection of the wound revealed a long deep gash exposing part of his skull on the top back of his head. I dressed and bandaged the wound and placed a neck brace on to ensure neck stability during transport. The American supervisor that I had dispatched to pick up Medical supplies from my dispensary arrived with a stretcher, small portable oxygen tank, IV sets and fluids, and a resuscitation bag. I decided to hold off starting an I.V. infusion drip with a port adapter to add emergency medications because the Sky Van aircraft was ready for the flight I wanted to immediately get airborne due to of the urgency in getting him to a military hospital in Saigon.

  

 I soon regretted not starting an I.V. on the ground as when climbing to altitude, the aircraft was bouncing around in the turbulent air, and with me on my knees on the hard metal floor, it took me several attempts to start a successful I.V. drip. Realizing the Sky Van was continuing to climb higher, perhaps to 10,000 feet, which were max cruising altitude, I asked the pilots if we could keep our altitude low for patient oxygen requirements. Obliviously they ignored my request due to the risk of enemy ground fire and continued to climb to a safe altitude. At least I could provide Oxygen supplement by nasal cannula from the portable oxygen tank that I bought. I kept talking to the Australian and making him respond to me to keep him awake and alert. He was conscious of stable vital signs during the flight. After an hour's flight or so, we landed at the Tan Son Nut airport, bringing him back in back in stable condition for sophisticated intensive medical care.