It was December, 1967- I was serving as a Combat Infantry Medic with the 15th Combat Engineers, attached to the 2/60 Infantry Division, down in the Mekong Delta of South Vietnam.
I had been “in-country” 4 months, involved in a few “fire-fights” and had been wounded once. Usually in these combat situations you did not, could not, see the people you were shooting at, and who were shooting at you. On this particularly day that changed-
We were out on a road clearing mission, when we were attacked. During the exchange of gunfire and shelling I became slightly separated in the foliage from the other guys in my unit. I heard some “movement” behind me, off to my right; I turned and found myself face-to-face with a young Vietnamese boy holding a rifle in his hands. I was 20 years old, he looked to be 2-3 years younger; we had “stumbled” across each other, and now we stood facing each other, each with a weapon in our hands.
It seemed like we stood, frozen, forever, fear etched on both our faces. Suddenly, we both fired our guns- he missed; I did not. I looked at this boy lying on the ground, realizing he would never get up- I never fired my gun again.