Doc Byars joined 2nd Platoon, Echo Company in March 1965 and stayed with the platoon through October 1966. He is credited with saving over 9 from our platoon and another 7 from the company during his time in Vietnam. He found out that the moss growing in rice paddies had healing properties that he could use to stop bleeding wounds. Many of us are walking around today because of his science. His happiest time in Vietnam was when he helped deliver a baby in a small village near Laos. The village chief gave the baby a nickname of ″Bac″ which was short for Bac si (Doctor).
Doc will be remembered for his biting wit and concern for his fellow soldiers. His care extended to making sure they were safe. Their missions wouldn′t permit that but still at the end of each patrol briefing he would study the trails they would take and point out that this or that valley, hill or village was going to be very dangerous and that his fellow soldiers were not to go there, because he ″didn′t ′service′ those areas.″ But he still ran into fire-fights to get us back to safety. And, yes, he would repeat over and over, ″I told you not to go there!″
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His philosophy was that he didn't mind getting old so much, it was maturing that scared the crap out of him.
Doc Byars joined 2nd Platoon, Echo Company in March 1965 and stayed with the platoon through October 1966. He is credited with saving over 9 from our platoon and another 7 from the company during his time in Vietnam. He found out that the moss growing in rice paddies had healing properties that he could use to stop bleeding wounds. Many of us are walking around today because of his science. His happiest time in Vietnam was when he helped deliver a baby in a small village near Laos. The village chief gave the baby a nickname of ″Bac″ which was short for Bac si (Doctor).
Doc will be remembered for his biting wit and concern for his fellow soldiers. His care extended to making sure they were safe. Their missions wouldn′t permit that but still at the end of each patrol briefing he would study the trails they would take and point out that this or that valley, hill or village was going to be very dangerous and that his fellow soldiers were not to go there, because he ″didn′t ′service′ those areas.″ But he still ran into fire-fights to get us back to safety. And, yes, he would repeat over and over, ″I told you not to go there!″
.
His philosophy was that he didn't mind getting old so much, it was maturing that scared the crap out of him.
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