Heroes Everyone

Tired and very weak from losing so much blood, he tried to find Ugly Joe to tell him he was going to pack it in.  He was nearly immobile, had run out of water and just couldn’t take it anymore.  The Japs hit them again.  There was another firefight and once again the Marines managed to take out almost a dozen and a half enemy soldiers. During the fight, he felt tremendous pain as a .30 caliber bullet ripped through his left groin area just missing the main artery in his leg.  Now he was immobile!  His fellow Marines loaded him on a stretcher, and two of them ran with him toward the beach.  Along the way, he kept his rifle in his hands and fired at the Japs who were trying to stop them.  Five times they had to stop and hide.  Several times they had to fight.  But somehow, they got him to the aid station on the beach.  As he lay on the stretcher his youthful body felt very old.  He thought about his family and about his fellow Marines and all the horrors of the last few hours.  He just wanted to go home, to leave this hellhole.  He struggled to stay alert afraid of what would happen if he let himself go to sleep.  But surely, he thought, the worst is over…but it wasn’t. At about 1700 his semi-dream state turned into a living nightmare.  Japanese soldiers broke into the aid station and started firing at the wounded Marines.  Unimaginable horror crossed the faces of the Leathernecks as they desperately tried to get out of the way.  Several Japs started hacking away at the wounded with machetes.  Men were screaming, trying to fight back, and trying to hide.  Then one of the attackers threw a grenade.  Skillet didn’t see the grenade from the cot where he lay, but he felt the shrapnel that blew his instep and two toes off his left foot.  Wounded, bleeding, and in excruciating pain, he waited for the next blow.

Just before dark, a young Marine by the name of Larzadi found Skillet at the aid station, grabbed him and practically carried him to the beach.  A landing craft had just unloaded some equipment and was raising its ramp to go back when Larzadi picked up Skillet, ran into the water, and pushed him onto the landing craft. As his eyes focused, he could see another wounded man in the corner.   It was a Navy doctor with his arm shot off who was as white as a sheet.  He had never seen anyone that white.  The driver of the craft quickly headed for a destroyer and unloaded Rimmer and the body of the doctor.   While the corpsmen on board the destroyer tried to clean him up, another doctor gave him a shot of morphine.  Still attached to his web gear were the safety pins he had used to hang his grenades.  Someone grabbed two of them and pinned his foot together to keep it from dragging.   He barely noticed the additional pain.  As the morphine seeped through his body, one of the doctors asked, “What would you like to have?  More than anything right now?” “Something cold to drink.” “We got it right here.”  Skillet sat up and gratefully took the big can of pineapple juice from the doctor.  It was cold and soothing and the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in all his 17 years.  As he lay back on his stretcher, a grenade dropped from its safety pin, hit the metal deck and rolled.  Within seconds, he realized he was absolutely alone and chuckled at the sailors who ran for safety.  It felt good to laugh.  He laughed again for he knew the grenade wouldn’t explode because the Carter key was still locked in.