Where I Stand — Mike O’Callaghan: Nevada National Guard medics on their way overseas

Friday, Feb. 14, 2003 | 3:03 a.m.

Black Hawk helicopter pilot Craig Robison and a detachment of the 126th Medical Co. have left Reno with Southwest Asia as their eventual duty assignment. Robison, a chief warrant officer in the Nevada National Guard, is one of several very special Nevadans on their way to combat zones.

Medical units are made up of special people who become invaluable during combat. I got my first helicopter ride to M.A.S.H. strapped on the side of a helicopter 50 years ago this week. It was bitter cold outside so they covered me with a plastic shell to prevent frostbite.

Our infantry platoon was blessed with an exceptional medic. Doc Utter, a farmer from Michigan, was listed on our roster as Cpl. Ivan E. Utter. He was a quiet man who was always there when needed and that was often. During one 24-hour period in North Korea our unit lost the platoon leader, platoon sergeant, assistant platoon sergeant, assistant squad leader, and two automatic riflemen. Doc was really busy and only one of the wounded died and his death couldn't be prevented. Lt. Bob Smith, still living in Massachusetts, was hit in the heart and SFC Walter Searcy had his arm almost blown away. Both men, after several months, eventually were returned to duty thanks to the quick work of Doc. The division history book reports that during those few hours our battalion had been hit with 3,000 artillery and mortar shells.

Less than two months earlier Doc was decorated for his actions, when the platoon took back from the Chinese a forward outpost on T-Bone Hill. He was a busy man as the position was covered with wounded Americans and Chinese. He never flinched as he moved from one man to another. The flares in the air allowed us to watch him in action as he set aside his carbine and worked with both hands saving lives and bringing comfort to those who were in great pain. I don't know how many lives he saved that night, but when daylight appeared he had completed his work.

The January issue of VFW Magazine has the article "First Aid Under Fire" written by Gary Turbak: "Thousands of Korean War veterans survived their battlefield wounds because someone with medical expertise and first-aid supplies was nearby when they were hit. Often, the wounded man didn't even know his rescuer's name, but in a sense they all had the same name.

"Officially referred to as 'medics' by the Army and 'corpsmen' by the Marines, these front-line medical men were often just called Doc," Turbak wrote.

Turbak goes on to describe Doc's working conditions as follows: "Being a medic or corpsman was gruesome, gut-wrenching work, as the lives of wounded men often hinged on the kind of initial medical aid they received."

"The worst thing" recalled medic Terry Ward, "was giving morphine to soldiers who were beyond help." When the war ended, 830 Army medics had been killed and 3,270 wounded. Corpsmen attached to the Marines had 108 of their number killed.

Every combat survivor has a special story about their medic or corpsman. I like the story of Medal of Honor recipient Doc David Bleak. Here's Turbak's account of the Idaho potato farmer attached to the 40th Division in Korea.

"First, he tackled a fellow GI to the ground to protect him from an exploding enemy grenade.

"Then he killed three Chinese soldiers -- two with his bare hands and one with a trench knife -- because they were keeping him from attending to a wounded GI.

"Later, after taking a bullet in his own leg, Bleak was carrying a wounded colleague down the hill when two Chinese soldiers attacked with bayonets. Laying down his human burden, the unarmed Bleak charged the enemy, grabbed one Chinese head in each huge hand and smashed their skulls together, killing both."

Doc Bleak was good, but so was our Doc Utter, and you can safely bet that our medics of the 126th Medical Co. will prove themselves as some of the best of the best. We know they will be going into action with some of our finest Black Hawk pilots and crews.