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Lives of Many Depend on Navy Corpsmen

"I solemnly pledge myself before God and these witnesses to practice faithfully all of my duties as a member of the Hospital Corps."

When a graduate of the U.S. Navy's Basic Hospital Corps School walks across the stage to receive his diploma, he says these words. They're part of the Hospital Corps' pledge and an important foreshadow of the kind of dedication and high morals required of those who enter into its service.

"I hold the care of the sick and injured to be a privilege and a sacred trust and will assist the Medical Officer with loyalty and honesty.

I will not knowingly permit harm to come to any patient."

Hospital corpsmen belong to a rare society. As members of the Navy's only enlisted corps, corpsmen serve in only one capacity – to provide medical care to the sick and injured. That's their mission, their focus and their passion.

Over the years, corpsmen have served on the battlefield, rendering comfort and life-saving medical treatment, many times during the heat of combat. Corpsmen appear throughout the history of American warfare, serving on battlefields in Europe, Asia and the South Pacific.

And wherever they've gone, hospital corpsmen have done so with valor and uncommon courage, from Mt. Suribachi to the deserts of Southern Iraq. Many have given their own lives while saving those of others.

"I will not partake of nor administer any unauthorized medication.

I will hold all personal matters pertaining to the private lives of patients in strict confidence."

Being a corpsman isn't for those lacking moral conviction and strength. It's for men and women who understand that what comes first is the patient's welfare. And that maintaining good character is an important component of the hospital corps' tradition.

Not that some haven't stumbled and fallen. It's happened before and will doubtless happen again. Corpsmen are only human at best. But the job they do is superhuman, particularly in times of war.

"I dedicate my heart, mind, and strength to the work before me.

I shall do all within my power to show in myself an example of all that is honorable and good throughout my naval career."

In 1966, a young HM3 named Robert Ingram found himself administering to those wounded during a battle in which 1 st Battalion, 7th Marines engaged the North Vietnamese.

During the ensuing firefight, Ingram sustained a shot through the hand while working over an injured Marine. After treating him, he aided two more Marines and was shot in the knee.

Limping over to other Marine casualties, a Viet Cong soldier surprised Ingram and fired a round into his face. The bullet entered under his eye, traveled through his sinus cavity and came to rest under the hinge of his jaw. Ingram shot and killed his assailant and continued to drag himself to the next injured Marine.

While tending to other wounded, Ingram was shot yet a fourth time. This bullet entered his lower torso. He continued to administer first aid until his injuries caused him to move back to a friendly position.

Ingram tried to refuse medical evacuation, asking that others be moved first. Forced aboard a helicopter, he was so gravely wounded that his fellow corpsmen thought him to be dead. Thirty-two years later, Ingram received the Congressional Medal of Honor for his service that day in 1966.

Corpsmen practiced their battle skills in a competition aboard Camp Lejeune recently. Like HM3 Ingram. they know that one day the lives of many may depend on their readiness, their willingness and their ability to serve during combat.

And, as always, they intend to be ready for it.

© 2003 Carole Moore

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Good Sunday Morning Everyone

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Mornng, Snippy,

Back around this time of year in 1966 when I was a Swab they were looking for volunteers for Corpsman school. I never went, didn't think it was my duty to volunteer. Darned dangerous work; besides, never volunteer.

So, about 1978 I realized with pain and sorrow that I had not done what I should have done, what I really wanted to do. Still feel that way, though not as much, since I get to take care of my kids nowadays instead of being dead. Still, I would have been very good at the work, and in those days could sprint with a man over my shoulder.

So, likely somebody didn't make it home so that I could. Maybe more than one, maybe more. Way, way too many. Old regrets, today's regret.