I haven't written anything the past few months because of my needing to reflect back on my life. Since I first realized that I was not infallible and had frozen briefly in helping to treat Michael. You see I had always been taught to always do my best in anything that I did or learned. While I never was the best scholar and received middle of the road grades it never bothered me.

When I went to Hospital Corpsman School all of this "always do your best because a life might depend on it" was reinforced in me. I attempted to give always a 110% in my effort on the ward and FMF training yet still being a middle of the roader.

When I was staff on 7 South at Great Lakes Naval Hospital I went out of my way in helping the young marines/sailors that were on my unit. I spent extra time talking with them and their family in getting to know that Life was still meaningful and not to be mad at God or life in general for what was dealt to them. (Little did I know that I was just repeating what I had been taught in books to say. That when it was my turn I wasn't ready to receive this message. I tried to understand tho what they were going through, the hurt, rejection, denial, etc. without really knowing what they were going through.)

Like I had stated earlier about joining the Marine outfit at Phu Bai about replacing a Corpsman who the marines thought was a coward due to him hiding trying to save his life while having the wounded crawl to him. When I first joined them they were quiet and not so friendly. However, when they realized I was willing to put my life on the line for them (Gospel of ST. John, Chapter 15, Verse 13: "Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends") then they opened up and accepted me as their Corpsman. This respect I fully intend to do whatever it took to keep regardless of the consequences it had to me.

On April 20th, 1968 when Michael was hit I responded immediately along with Doc Tura and pulled him back to where we could work on him. Once we did that, I froze. Doc Tura was checking him out and I froze for a brief second. I realized then that I nor Doc Tura could save him no matter what we did, yet I started at that time to lose my faith in God which was amplified a few seconds later when I got hit.

It was this feeling of being abandoned, not knowing where to go next and getting angry, upset at God that caused me to put this time period out of my mind. It went against everything that I had been taught about God, love, honor, etc. It was the blackest time of my life.

While laying there after being wounded I knew that we all were in big trouble unless I could get another Corpsman's attention. I kept on calling out for help and it seemed like an eternity before I heard someone come up from behind. At that moment I didn't care if they were friendly or enemy. I knew that I would be helped one way or another.

When the Corpsman tried to work on me because I was still conscious, I told him to check the rest out because I had lost one and didn't want the guilt on me that another one had died who was worse off than I while I was being attended. Afterwards, I let them work on me when I heard them say this one's alive, so is this one and this one. The 4th one (Michael) no one would tell me anything about. Yet I knew it was my fault that he died because I wasn't good enough or prepared for this type of injury. Nothing can ever prepare an individual to see death in his face like that.

When I was told later of the injuries of the other three, I was glad that they had made it. It was when I was told later that year that since I couldn't do the job of a Corpsman anymore that I was being medically discharged. I really felt like this was my punishment for my sin. I really took it to my heart that the one thing I really loved doing was being taken away from me.

I really felt suicidal bearing this guilt. I had plans on going back to my home state of West Virginia to do so. I was very troubled and tried not to let anyone see. However, my Grandfather, Charles W. Bunner, knew something was wrong. He had been injured in a coal mining accident in 1962-63 and had face a similar situation. We had long talks while working on lawn mowers in his garage discussing my alternatives. I remembered one thing that he said "It's up to a man how he wants his life to turn out. I hope I have a Grandson that I can be proud of always." He reminded me of the hurt that the family would go though if I had done anything to myself.

All of this has been tearing at me these last few months. Sometimes I wish that I have had sudden impulse to do it, but I keep thinking of what my Grandfather said and realized that the family would be more hurt in my doing so. While it would do away here with my suffering on Earth, come Judgment Day it would be an eternity of suffering.

I started out writing about "The Moment of Truth" that we all have to face sometime and kind of wandered. This past Sat. at the 5:30 pm Mass, my Priest Father Frank gave a sermon on concerning Faith of a cancer patient parishioner. I listened very intently since it was a situation similar to mine. I felt like Father Frank was talking directly to me in his message. I started getting tears in my eyes and am doing so now just thinking about this. I want to have faith and believe again like I did before I went to Viet Nam, to regain that childlike innocence of blindly believing in God again.

I had forgotten all of this turmoil in my life until Nov. 1996 when I was face to face with some unfinished business concerning God and Faith. I was getting angry at everyone around me not quite understanding what was driving me. I am beginning to realized it was my lost of Faith and Moment of Truth that was doing so.

I realize that a man is not born alone. That there are several people present during his birth. It is a long path from birth to death. Hopefuly when I die I won't be alone because I will have the Faith to sustain me. God has always been there for me. It was I who abandoned God, not him abandoning me. He attempted to carry me along my path while I was in my deepest sorrow, etc. Those are the single set of footprints I can see in my past. Hopefully with God's Grace there will always be another set along his.