by Donald Z. Smith

Created on: July 27, 2011

My fear was a survival mechanism I was using at the time because I recognized upcoming danger and had to deal with my stress. It was a choice to either flee from it or confront it.  The atmosphere surrounding me was definitely full of unwanted anticipation as to the upcoming events.  I wasn't sure what it would be, but there was no question something would happen.  I looked at my bandaged arm and felt the pain from my injuries.  My right arm had swollen five times its original size and throbbed in pain.  The corpsman or medic advised me I needed to be medevaced.  Enemy contact had prevented any possibility of in-coming choppers for our wounded or dead, as the enemy mortaring of our positions put landings on the LZ in great jeopardy.  

My mind was confused, and I was frightened.  I couldn't remember being so bothered by my daily combat existence.  I somehow felt things would deteriorate in the days ahead, as I just sensed it in the air and from the enemy contact daily.  I had to get out to survive.  I had over-whelming fear lately, much more than I had ever experienced in war.  My imagination ran wild thinking I could lose my arm.  I fretted all day long worrying I could not pull my trigger finger in the next engagement.  I was constantly whining to the medic that I needed to get out.  This was the first time after months in combat that fear seemed to motivate my every action and convince me I needed to get medevaced and leave that jungle area.  I was in panic in my mind.  I felt ominous thoughts of doom, which only fed my fear.

I knew I had to deal with my fear.  I had been in combat for a long time and never had a serious injury that would necessitate medevaced from the field.  I had been in other operations as intense.  I started realizing my fear was promoted because I had a legitimate reason to be in the rear area safe and sound.  No excuses to run from danger, but a real and honest reason.  However, I had no way to safety as the choppers couldn't come.  I had to maintain my sanity and not allow my fear to continue.  I was ashamed to myself that I was allowing fear to motivate my actions and attempts to change things through whining occasioanlly to the medics that I needed to be medevaced.  I realized I would be in time, and calmed myself down in order to continue to survive in any upcoming battles.  I couldn't allow fear to over-ride my reality.  I had to maintain my combat mind.

I did quell my fear in those days, and always remember the short time I allowed fear to make me panic and try and flee my situation.  Making medics feel badly that my injuries would prevent me from continuing and making them feel guilty of my situation.  I realized, finally, my actions were initiated from fear that had temporarily over-taken my mind.  I did rise up above my fear and continue to do my duty for several days until I was finally medevaced to a rear hospital in Danang.  There was a time in the war where fear was able to manipulate me for a short period and replace common sense.  

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