Kerry “Doc” Pardue

BENNY DALE CASH… A RENEWED REMEMBRANCE

I have been watching the posts on here about comments on PTSD and just know that each of us has much to share about this disorder and how it has affected us and our relationships.

I will hope that our friend who has chosen to leave the group will come back. At times, we tend to have a weird sense of humor but that is a defense mechanism to hide behind when we are really scared and at the end of our hope at times but we hurt people with it as well.

Over the years, at this time of year I would always withdraw and go to my mental cave to hide from everyone. I know what the date March 23rd means to me and how it messes with my mind and my heart, and my ghosts and my closet of fear, doubt, and worry.

This year is different for me. I don’t find myself wanting to go hide from the date… I want to embrace it and know that as bad as it was back then today, this coming Monday, I celebrate the fact that I came home 40 years ago and I went to met for the first time the woman who I chose to marry. For the past 40 years my life has changed for the better because of that time, the mistakes, the regrets, the loss, and the grief have shaped who I became as a man – a man who loves life so much more as I was given a 2nd chance. I choose to celebrate the man who made it possible for me to still be here.

March 23rd is the day I landed in Vietnam 41 years ago as a 20 year old snot-nosed kid who was so scared. I got off the plane with no gun no nothing… and the week I land they have already lost over 450 men for the week. Three days later I am going on my first ambush patrol… it is a pitch black night with no moon… I am appearing fearless but my knees were knocking and I can hardly breathe, my mouth was so dry. Here we go a walking in the area around our base camp setting up to catch Charlie and blow him away… all of a sudden we are getting hit and fired upon… I forgot how to cuss for if I remembered I would have used every word I knew… the guy next to me sees me frozen in place and he pushes me down and takes a gunshot wound to his side. My bullet… he screams out I’m hit I’m hit. I crawl over to him and I turn on his flashlight and my mine so I can see what I am doing. Big mistake, now everyone is shooting at the idiot with the two flashlights on but they stay on so I can see. I put myself between him and the bullets that are hitting all around me. God must have been watching out for me for me not to get shot. I find an entry wound and put a bandage on him and turn him over looking for an exit wound and there is none. By this time, the shooting has stopped and I don’t even know how to call in Dust-off (I am that new). They send out a duce and a half to come pick us up. I make up a makeshift stretcher out of two connected ponchos and we load him up. It is then I notice that I have pissed in my pants. I am almost hyperventilating at this point. I hold him up next to me so that my body will take most of the bumps and not hurt him so much. He asks me if he is going to die and I tell him no. I ask about his family and he tells me of his wife and mom and dad and brothers and sisters from Alabama.

We finally get him to the dispensary and the Doctor looks at him and has him taken to the Evac Hospital which is on our compound. I go see him a couple of times in the hospital. However, on the 28th day I get word that he passed away from liver failure. I lost my first casualty and his death has always haunted me, did I do enough, why him and not me, why did he push me down. His name is Benny Dale Cash and his cause of death is listed as Misadventure… how can this be a misadventure… we were shot at by the South Vietnamese at an Outpost who thought we were the Viet Cong. Years later, I made contact with his family who were very kind to me and I explained to them what had happened to their son, brother, and uncle. They went all those years not really knowing what happened to him. His parents had passed away before I could talk to them but the other family members were happy to know he died protecting Freedom.

I know that it is good that I talk to you guys about what I am feeling inside. You were the medics and know the loss and grief I have losing my first patient, particularly because I didn’t get down fast enough and he got shot instead of me. Over the years, I used to beat myself up over this and blame myself. But in the past couple of years, those feelings aren’t there anymore. Benny died doing his job; it was his time to go. I know this now more than ever. He died and I was able to make my life a better one because of him… I learned how to be a better soldier and medic because of not knowing all that I was supposed to do. I was able to become someone’s husband, a father and grandfather and live a life that has meant more to me that it would have without this challenge. I know that Benny is looking down and I know that he smiles and he tells me that it is okay because he is with Jesus and he is with his mom and dad. He is glad because he is remembered by a medic who tried to help him and I won’t let his memory be for nothing…

Benny, thank you for that night, thank you for pushing me down, thank you for allowing me to have the joy of being a father, husband, and being a grandfather. Life has meant more to me because of you… I didn’t take it for granted. Yours is the first name I touch when I go to the WALL… every time I talk to a group of Junior and High School kids in history classes I talk about you.

Thanks Benny….I finally made it all of the way home…