The Deadly Rice Fields of Vietnam: SP5 Clarence Sasser

Ken Harbaugh:

Hi, I’m Ken Harbaugh, host of Warriors In Their Own Words and the Medal of Honor Podcast. This is a stand-alone interview, but we highly recommend everyone check out our Medal of Honor Podcast episode about Sasser before giving this interview a listen. That episode provides helpful background info and a detailed explanation of what Sasser did to earn the Medal of Honor. It’s called “The Toughest Thing He’s Ever Done: SP5 Clarence Eugene Sasser”, and you can find the link in the show description. Thanks, and enjoy the interview.

I’m Ken Harbaugh, host of Warriors In Their Own Words. In partnership with the Honor Project, we’ve brought this podcast back at a time when our nation needs these stories more than ever.

Warriors in Their Own Words is our attempt to present an unvarnished, unsanitized truth of what we have asked of those who defend this nation. Thank you for listening, and by doing so, honoring those who have served.

Today, we’ll hear from Specialist 5th Class Clarence Sasser. Sasser served in Vietnam as an Army Medic. Through numerous wounds and excruciating pain, he continuously administered aid to fellow soldiers for 20 hours as his company was attacked in Vietnam.

SP5 Clarence Sasser:

The Huey, the DUSTOFF, medevac helicopters were probably the best thing that happened to those that were injured over there. They saved a lot of lives. They were first, not in the form of the Huey, but first incorporated into emergency trauma on the battlefield during Korea, from the M*A*S*H series. It was expanded during Vietnam, to the UH-1D helicopters, configured to carry stretchers of injured persons or soldiers. They were the lifesaver of a lot of people. The injuries in Vietnam were quite severe, particularly from the booby traps and things like that. There were a lot of booby traps set over in Vietnam. Some were self-effacing ones, others were command-detonated ones.

They were crude in the sense of the society that were utilizing them. They used what was available, what they had to use, and because of that, they were somewhat crude. I don't know if it's accurate to say that they were geared more toward maiming than killing. I think they were probably equally, one was just as good as the other, as far as they were concerned. But the facts of the matter is, they did do considerably, a lot of maiming people. But then that maiming again, versus death, was attributable back to the first question with the medevac helicopters, a lot of people that are maimed now would've died.

And almost invariably during World War II, these people died because of blood loss, because of the delay in getting them back to... I want to say competent medical care, but we as combat medics, we thought we were competent also. But to get them back to first-ranked treatment. People that lost the leg with severe trauma to arteries and veins like that, almost invariably died, bled to death. The Hueys would get them back to that advanced treatment so quickly, until a lot of them were saved with emergency procedures. A lot of soldiers were saved. It's probably prudent of me to pull a little praise on those people that flew those machines. If you called them, they came, if it was in any way possible to get in there, they would get in there. And because of their attitude, their own bravery, a lot of people were saved. I know several guys that, currently now, that were double amputees, had parts blown off, lower legs blown off, that I know would've died in any other war other than Vietnam. So they were remarkable. They had a remarkable record and coming in the hot spots, hot landing zones, picking up people and getting them out, they did wonders. I can't praise them enough. I can't praise those pilots enough, without them.

What I found, the scariest, most difficult thing to do, was usually, if somebody hit a booby trap, it was either our point man or the first in the lines, in the line of movement, that hit it. Invariably, when they hit a booby trap, the medic had to go. If it was a command-detonated, that meant that somebody was sitting somewhere that pushed the button or threw a lever that detonated that. When that soldier got within range. What if he set two there? Did one and got and injured the person, and then when the medic came to see about it, do the other one. That was always the scariest, most difficult thing to deal with. That if I go up here after him, how do I know it's not command-detonated?

Well, after a little while, you learn to just trust your luck. It breeds a little bit of that, and in fact, the whole war bred that type of thought. And if I can interject a personal opinion, it's probably the problem with those of us that have had problems readjusting. It promoted a situation of right now, of today, why worry about tomorrow? Tomorrow I'll probably be dead. And when you get into a mentality like that, it becomes doubly hard on the mind to get to, shall we say, get out of it. Again, this personal opinion, nothing to prove it, don't want anything to prove it, don't want to even think about it too much, but to me, it promoted a right-now-type attitude. Or why should I worry about tomorrow? Tomorrow's definitely not promised and I probably won't be here tomorrow. So to me, that was the worst thing about it, was the attitude it promoted in the soldiers, the chance of that almost any day, any minute, it could be your last.

We had the whole range of it, from sniper-type wounds, gunshot wounds, to actual fire fight-type injuries, to various type booby traps, the least of which were the explosive devices. There were also the punji pits, which were sharpened bamboo, charged spikes, that was like, as TV labels it, tiger traps and everything. With a covering over it, you fall in on the spikes sticking up. There were severe injuries, and a lot of times, they were covered with excrement, in an effort to produce infection. But yeah, I treated the full range of those.

Probably the most common problem that I treated, was the plain old jungle rot. We were down in the Mekong Delta, which was down south in the rice paddy area and movement down there almost always involved water. Water on the skin and primitive areas, such as this, was always produces very violent fungus-type problems. The biggest thing was the fungus infection. It was preventable to a certain extent, but then after time or over time, it was almost never preventable. Almost everyone had it, and it may seem, at first glance, to be a minor problem, but once a area become macerated, other words, raw in everything, it produced tremendous pain and would really impair a soldier. So the biggest thing was to guard your guys for those type problems, and make sure that preventative measures were used to reduce the risk of it, and to treat it when it did become active, before it could totally disable the soldier. That was probably the most routine thing we did down where I was.

We went into an area on helicopter. Slicks, we call them. Bringing back a little memory, some of them good, some of them bad. But we went into this area on helicopters. The entire company did, and it turned out to be a fairly hot area, which was, I really hate to say, common back then, that you went in the areas and you found more than you expected. But it was interesting because we were not scheduled for any action. We were a backup company on that mission, and we were just to take it easy until, or if and when, another company or someone got into trouble and needed some reinforcement, some backup or somebody to pull them out, from term we used back then. And we were just cooling it, and orders came down from our battalion headquarters that wanted us to go check out an area that they had found, that they suspected may be an area of activity.

So we ate that morning and loaded on the helicopters, about nine that morning, went into this area, and it was daybreak the next morning before we got out, those of us that lived. It's a particularly distressing period to remember and everything. Probably the hardest part of it all was spending the night with my friends and just listening to them call, beg for help, when you couldn't do anything. You knew some of them were dying, you knew they were dying. You knew you'd never see some of them again. As for myself, I had been injured fairly severely, but being the medic, I knew that my injuries were not life-threatening. So other than the pain, and the trauma, and the fright, it was something, it really was. But hell, I got through it.

In times of intense stress such as this, there are certain things that you know need to be done. And in this instance, we were trapped in a rice field, no cover whatsoever, with enemy troops dug in, artillery already zeroed in on that position. We were taking severe incoming hits and the safest thing to do would be to get to the tree line. And that's what I was trying to get my guys to do. Take the chance and get to the tree line. You're probably better off than staying out here. We were in dire straits, probably the best way to put it. And if you could make it to the wood line, at least you'd have a little bit of cover, other than a thin blade of rice, a thin rice stalk. It's one of those things that instinct tells you, I guess. But at any rate, that's what I was doing, encouraging them to, at least try, to make it to the wood lines. By trying to get there, it was a lot better than just laying here waiting on things to come in to kill you.

Probably the most striking remembrance of that day was the leeches. We were in the rice paddy and of course you couldn't stand up, you had to lay in the water. The only protection or cover that was available were the levees, the dikes. That didn't afford very much protection, and to utilize those, you couldn't stand up. You couldn't stand up anyway because of the incoming, and the snipers, and the gunfire. But I remember laying in the water and fighting leeches all night. And just terrible. Just one of those things.

Other than the grit from the dirt, they were all dirty and first off, their rice paddies were not like the rice fields I was used to. I grew up in this area and this is a rice farming area, and had farmed rice and worked in rice fields growing up. They were different from ours. We rotated our fields. Their fields were rice fields perpetually. So consequently, there was always a lot of stinky mud. And I'm sure the people aware how mud gets when it is continually covered with water. So it was fairly stinky and everything. And hence the fungus and the leeches that were there. They were different from ours in the sense that they were permanent rice fields, and along with that, go a lot of other diseases and things like that.

The night is always the worst part, and it's probably the worst part because it is night and you can't see. But the sounds were the sounds of sporadic gunfire, sporadic sniper fire, the sounds of fellow soldiers, essentially dying. As I mentioned previously, a few minutes ago, probably the worst sound was hearing your fellow soldier, your friend, calling for his mama to help him. And there's nothing you can do. There's no help you can do other than comfort, if you could get there, having already been injured, wounded, there's very little I can do. Used up all of my medical supplies, had found another medics bag and had used that up. And there's just nothing you can do. Plus there's the point of tempting faith of even trying to find him and get to him is, again, a further risk of your life.

You have to look at it in context. I lived with these guys. They were my friends. We ate, slept, joked, played, partied and everything else together. They were friends. And I don't think that there is any person alive today, that when a friend has a problem, won't try to help them. And above and beyond, there are two other factors. Number one, it was my job. My job was to take care of them. If they got injured or wounded, my job was to take care of them. That was my job. I had no other job. And the second part of it was, nobody needed a medic that wouldn't do his job. You were accorded a certain amount of status within the unit, by virtue of being doc, the medic, and along with that goes obligations. One of those obligations is that if I'm hurt, doc, you'll look out for me. Yeah, I'll take care of you. Well, that's a promise. So you throw all of those in together and I refuse to believe that any prudent person wouldn't do it. It's probably, if I were to guess at it, I would say, it's probably one of the reasons, the powers that be put the medic with the platoon and had them live with them. Rather than when they go out, to draw a medic, as you would draw a carbine, or something of that nature. You form bonds, you form camaraderie, and along with that, go obligations. I felt particularly strong about it because of that.

Within the platoon, and there are four platoons in a company, and each platoon had a medic within the platoon, you were accorded a certain amount of status. For instance, when we were out for extended periods of time, and we were resupplied with C rations to food, the first case that was broke open, the doc got his choice out of it. Well, there's an obligation to that, and that obligation is that you will do your job when the time comes, regardless. And that's what it is. You could always say, "Well, I don't know, I think it's too hot to go out there." Hot, as in the lead and not the temperature. You could always say, "It's too hot to go out there," but what about that person's friend that's watching, what's going on? What's he going to think about you? What's he going to do to you?

Remember, we are in a combat zone where there are no laws other than survival and kill the enemy. So what's going to happen if his friend is out there dying and you don't refuse to go because you scared or you may get hurt? But you may not get hurt. So what's going happen? What's he going to do when his friend dies and he say, "The doc didn't go." Just may find you next time, next time a fire fight break out. You just may be a casualty. There have been instances, I'm sure, I can't quote any, but I'm sure there have been instances, just as there have been other instances of things that weren't quite proper. But you go, it's your job to go. It's your duty to go.

The whole thing was scary. But after a while, even that becomes second nature. That's what I found, one of the most marvelous things about the human psyche, is it get used to things. No matter how bad it is, it can get used to it and it will get used to it if it's given enough time. The scariest moments... Oh, I had been helping a wounded soldier out and was going back to, what I call, my little spot, where at this point, we're still in the rice paddy. And was going back to my spot where a friend was, where I knew that he was laying there, and I didn't dare stand up because obvious reasons. I stand up, a sniper can find me. It was obvious who I was, or what I was, to anybody observing the area. Medic was a fairly higher priority, in that you kill the medic and injured people die. So you got a much higher casualty rate.

And all of a sudden I heard, what we had come to know of as, incoming. If you've been there, you can always tell when it's coming in. Just from the sound of it. I heard it and I heard it, and I knew by the sound and the direction that it was going to land pretty close to me. The question is, what do you do? Do you freeze and stay or do you try to get away? But again, you have only a few senses to try to figure out what's going to happen, where it's going to go and all of that, but I knew this one was coming fairly close to me. So the method that I had hit on to get around in the rice paddy, understanding the discussion about rice paddies earlier, they were probably 40, 45% mud with a little layer of water on top. The mud in this rice paddy was at least thigh deep, with water up to the waist, and it made moving extremely difficult. So I had hit on the method of I could grab a handful of rice and just pull myself sliding over the mud in the water, and I could move around quicker thataway. Plus I was down and was out of line of sight, in other words. So I heard this coming in and oh man, oh Lord, it's going to be close. So I started moving and everything, and got to a... And understand, when I say the distance, we're not talking over 10 or 12 feet. And got to a intersection of two dikes that formed a cross. And just as I was rolling up and was going to put my back out, because I knew it was going to fall, they came down and hit right where I was when I realized that, when I initially heard it. That to me, probably was the scariest moment of knowing that if I didn't do something, it was going to get me. It still sprayed me with shrapnel and all of that, but okay, yeah, not life-threatening.

Well, as I said, I had my back sprayed with shrapnel. I had a gunshot wound through the thigh, that was pretty much flesh and muscle, no artery or nerve, no bone damage. Through the arm, and a piece of shrapnel in the side, and a gunshot wound to the head.

Well, you see somebody down that's ingrained in you to help them. It's ingrained in the medics to help, and it's probably something brought out by the aptitude test that they give you when you go in. I would like to think that's what it is. But no medic or former medic can ever not help in someone that's down. There have been instances, since I've been out of the service, where I came up on automobile accidents, and the urge to help is there. Several such instances was there. Again, it goes back to somebody has to do something. It's just ingrained in you that your job is to help people.

I had spent time, about five months, in Japan, which gave me a little period to adjust to the difference between being in a combat zone and a regular life. Being in a combat zone was particularly frustrating, to a certain extent, because there were no laws. The only law was to kill the enemy and look out. Back here, society structured, there are things you do, there are things you don't do, as we all know. And on top of spending that time in Japan, I came back, going to Washington, to be presented with the Medal of Honor. So I was handled a little bit different from the regular, ordinary soldier that came back.

The regular soldier got on a plane in Vietnam, 18 hours later, he got off a plane in the United States, and eight hours later was on another plane headed home. Without any time to relax and take a deep breath and say, "Phew, I made it," Without any time for adjustment or anything. And of course the climate here, at that time with the anti-war protests and everything, did nothing to help that. In fact, it probably exacerbated any misgivings or any insecurities that he may have. Myself, it was a little bit different. I came back, going to Washington to be presented a medal and as such was handled a little bit differently, I like to think. I do feel that I did have problems in adjusting to American life at that point, lifestyles at that point, but I don't feel that mine were as severe as a lot of the other guys were, that came back.

There was no thoughts about combat stress or post-traumatic stress disorder, and in fact, it didn't become a recognizable diagnosis until, I believe it was in 1980 or something, or somewhere, '84, somewhere in that range of time. But just the trauma of going from a society where there are no holes barred, to a society where there are structured rules and regulations, it was something in itself.

As I've said a couple of times, in Vietnam, the only thing that it was, was to do your job and to look out for your people. Everything else was like second nature. I'm not saying that we were lawless over there or anything, but in combat, those are the only things that matter. Do your job, look out for your people, look out for yourself. To here, driving by the speed limit, getting in line and waiting till your turn, which believe me, there were lines at certain places over there, the chow hall, the PXs and things like that, but they weren't anywhere near like the lines here. And giving rise to a little bit of impatience and problems such as that. It makes life, even though combat is a little bit harder, life is easier in there, and there's just so many things you got to do, whereas here, there's everything to do.

A medic has been, again, a special person throughout all warfare. It's genuinely recognized that some injuries in war may not be totally disabling to a soldier, and with sufficient treatment, you regain the use of that soldier. Plus, there's the psychological advantage of knowing that if I get hurt, someone's here to take care of me, they won't leave me behind to die. That, in my estimation, has a bearing on the temperament of a fighting soldier. It's a tradition way back to the Civil War with Dr. Mary Walker, back to the Revolutionary War with medics during those times. So again, it does have a long and glorious history, of which I'm especially proud that I fitted in, that I was one. I am especially proud, although I mean nothing by the statement, that my medal was awarded for saving lives rather than taking lives. To me, it makes a difference, although in life, it does not make a difference, but to me it makes a difference. It's a point of satisfaction for me.

We had a chaplain in the company, but chaplains were at least company grade. But that is another part of a medics job, as a listener, a psychiatric-type counselor to the people, to the soldiers, I should say. And you listen and you talk to them, and you discuss girlfriends, and Dear John letters, and things of that nature, and pats on the back for a good job and all of that. And it has a tremendous settling effect on the troops, to know that if something happen, doc will be there. Doc will take care of me. And it's a tremendous psychological advantage, I think, again, a reason for him to be with them.

Yeah, you looked out for your people. It's again, part of his job. His job is the welfare, the care, the health of the entire platoon. If one has a problem, it's just like a mother hen. If one has a problem, you go get him and you go try to square it away. Whatever, if you had to go to the CO about it, whatever, you did it. Whatever the guys came to you about, you tried to work with it. And of course there's also that little point about confidant in the equation too. You listen to their cares, their troubles, their fears, and if it warranted action, it was your job to do it. Other words, it was a mother-hen-type situation in that you looked out for your people, you did whatever you thought would help this person to be a better soldier, particularly when you were out in the field. In the base camp, there were other avenues for them, but out in the field, it was your job to look after their welfare. It was your job to stand up for them, if their injuries were such that they needed to go back in, it was your job to get to the CO to him back in.

Without a doubt, you have a lot of them die in your arms, and that's not a good feeling. Depends on where it was, of course, in TV you always see them as saying the last words and all of that, and then an exhalation of breath and then they're dead. A lot of times they're unconscious. When you got there, there was no such thing as confession, just a matter of holding them and trying to get them on across to the other side. Nothing you could do, happens a lot. Happened a lot. But life goes on. We adapt to those type things. Hope it doesn't stay around to affect you too long, but life goes on.

I got joy out of it. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the camaraderie. I enjoyed the status that it bestowed on me. I'm a people person. I was a people person before and it fell in with that. Had it to do over again, I don't have any regrets. I could leave out the injuries and all of that, as I'm sure everybody would, but other than that, I don't have any regrets. I am intensely proud to have been awarded a Medal of Honor, since most people think you're winning, but really you don't win it. It's technically earned and everything. I'm intensely proud to be a Medal of Honor recipient. To me, it epitomizes that I did my job. Nothing more, nothing less.

To those that maybe see me and remember those days back there, my hat's off to you. I'm glad you made it. I'm glad I made it. Thanks for the good times. Thanks for the bad times. To those that see it, then without any idea of what it's like, believe me, it's not easy, but it's necessary. It's part of being an American and part of enjoying the benefits of this society.

I know most of the guys and we all know each other. We get together every year and have publicity sessions and all that good stuff. But probably the central vein or theme among all of us, is that something had to be done. These are people that are, to me, some of the greatest people on the face of this earth. Probably the biggest thrill I find, out of it all, is being in society with people like Pappy Boyington, the old World War II, Marine fighter pilot, Ace and General Doolittle and all of these people, Audie Murphy. Man, this was something to me to be in their company and be considered as an equal to them. That, to me, was something, and I thoroughly enjoyed that. Some of the more flamboyant military people in the world, are in this society, and to me, it's something great to be in the same group as they are.

Ken Harbaugh:

That was SP5 Clarence Sasser.

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