From David Faz

Cpl. David Faz after operation Harvest Moon.

Joe David Faz in the hospital in Japan, February 1966. Below is a letter from Joe David Faz to Lt. Henry Barnett about his trip to the hospital in Japan.

From Joe David Faz

When we got back from Harvest Moon I had a fever for a few days and didn't feel very good.  About a week after our return I started to feel weak and listless but stayed with my squad and continued to go on patrols around Chu Lai.  Toward the end of January I started to throw up and got the GIs and felt weaker than a kitten.  Just before you guys went on an operation in January I was pulled off the line and sent to sickbay where I did nothing but drink broth and run to the head.  Just before you guys got back from your operation I got medivaced to the Philippines and then to Yokuska, Japan.  Tests on my stools, if you could call them that, showed that I had contacted a very infectious intestional parasite and was very dehydrated.    I remember being loaded on a chopper and then walking onto a military transport airplane but when we landed in Manila, about midnight, I was forced to get in a wheelchair and was wheeled to my, "Private Room."

Early the next morning I was wheeled onto another military plane and was unloaded about twenty-four hours later, on a stretcher, at Yohohama Air Base in Japan.  My group of people were driven in ambulances to the UN Navy hospital in Yokuska, Japan where I was given my own toilet, sink, and laundry.  I was not to have any physical contact with any of the other people in my ward and they were not to us my toilet, sink, or towels.  Talk about getting scared about my ailment.    After a week of tests: stool, blood, urine, and saliva they gave me large doses of antibiotics then a huge black pill and I was "drunk" for the whole day.  I had a little chicken broth and some dry toast, but I wasn't hungry, I just wanted to sleep.  The next day I didn't feel much better but I was able to eat some thin soup and keep it down.  I slept a lot for the next three or four days.  Each day I felt a little better and was able to eat a little more at each meal.  After about ten days of little improvement they gave me the same black pill, but a little stronger I think.  And I went through the same drunk and hangover process.  After another three weeks I was given another big black pill and repeated the drunk process again.  I was getting to enjoy the stupid feeling.  All this time they kept me on antibiotics and penicillin.     After the third pill and drunk show I was starting to feel much better and starting to keep most of my food down.  They kept drawing blood and checking my stool until the end of April when the doctor decided I had recuperated enough to get back to Okinawa and possibly rejoin my company.    They shipped me out in May and in a week I was in Okinawa.  While I was there I happened to see Pvt. Mexico, one of the two Marines who beat me up, being escorted through the chow line by three SPs.  Our eyes met and we both recognized each other but did not acknowledge our meeting.  It was a weird feeling.  Pvt. Mexico and I had gotten along in the platoon setting back in Pendleton.  He later apologized, during a break in the trial, saying they had meant to beat up Cpl. Armstrong but had gotten our bunks confused.    Sometime, about June, I was waiting to get my orders back to my unit when the Top asked me if I would mind going stateside earlier than my unit because he needed two armed NCO's to escort a prisoner back to Treasure Island in San Francisco.  I was more than glad to help out the First Seargeant in this unpleasant chore.  Well, about the end of June I was back in California and had thirty days leave and a bunch of cash in my pocket.  I hopped a military flight out of Oakland, I think, and caught a flight to Edwards AFB in New Jersey.  I caught a train to State College, Pennsylvania and spent a week with my sister's familly.     Then I got another military hop, from Edwards I think, and flew into Kelly AFB practically next door to my mom's home.  I got to visit my history teacher's summer school and recorded several tapes about my "war experinces".  It was fun and Mr. Schrade really appreciated my efforts.  (Last week he sent me the letters that I had sent his classes from RVN - quite a revelation.    When I got back to Camp Pendleton in early July I was supposed to have a discharge ready for me.  But Uncle Sam decided he needed my services for another three months and extended me until October.  I was assigned to Weapons School in San Onofre, just next door to Los Plugas, and had a great time teaching new recruits how to be John Wayne.  I do so love to teach.    I was discharged on October 31, 1966 and caught a Greyhound to San Antonio, Texas and St. Mary's University - thanks to Uncle Sam's GI bill.    Thus ended "John Wayne" Faz and started school marm Mr. Faz.

The water well in Golf's area at Chu Lai.

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