Mini Cav 3rd Squad Third Platoon D 1/7 Cav LZ Compton An Loc 1969 Photo Marc Levy

They line up like this: First Row left: Shake 'N Bake. Didn't know him well but he did the job. Gary William's, with beer can (zoom in-it's Pabst!) got his ear drum blown out by the 60. Lamb on the gun had one PH, the long thin scar stitched like a constellation over his right fore arm. Melhop, heart of gold, hard as nails. Back Row, left: Derrig, shot by an NVA at close range after a ninety-day-wonder ordered him out on flank with the 60. One bullet traveled up the barrel of the gun and lodged atop his arm. The other went elsewhere and was not pleasant. Waiting for the medivac he threw me his dope. Didn't want to get caught with that in the rear. Ray Williams, cross in the helmet, kicked a hand lume the day after a mad minute. It ignited, hit him square in the nose, then shot skyward, deployed, and floated to earth, hissing, as I patched him up. He returned a month later. Lawrence Knowles, aka Knuckles, farm boy from a Southern state who took charge of log days and made it look easy. Should have been Spec 4 quick but the Captain, as the story goes, put in orders for "Knuckles," which the company clerks tossed out. Roop the Troop, with his warm Oklahoma voice, oldest of the lot at twenty-one. Dorio, teen age New York tough guy. Cursed me when I wouldn't medvac him after he took shrap, the platoon down to nine men.  The head medic made the right call.  Nothing happened on this patrol. Just another village blown away by artillery and rockets.

Marc Levy

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