VN: This meant that you had actually walked into the rear of units that were attacking the 2/503.

Rascon: It appeared as such. Moments later, the leader of the point squad, Sergeant Elmer R. ‘Ray’ Compton, stopped the platoon, stating he had spotted the enemy setting up a machine-gun ambush in the heavy foliage ahead of us at the fork in the path, and that they were wearing dark green and khaki uniforms and had NVA pith helmets. After that, some things are blurred in my memory, they happened so fast. Within seconds of Compton’s briefing, Pfc Neil Haffey, a grenadier, was brought forward and told to fire his M-79. As he did so, all hell broke loose. From what Haffey later told me, as he was firing his M-79, his projectile had not cleared his gun when they opened up on us. But Pfc William Thompson, an M-60 machine-gunner, somehow ended up lying on the edge of the trail. At that point, I was about 15 to 20 meters behind him with the main recon force.

VN: Could you generally see what was happening?

Rascon: Not really, other than heavy weapons were being fired in both directions. I couldn’t see what was happening up front. I remember somebody yelling ‘Doc!’ so I started forward when Platoon Sergeant Jacob Cook said to me, ‘Doc, stay down or you’re going to get killed. Don’t go until we provide you cover fire.’ But I went forward anyway, crawling on my knees to the area where I heard yelling, toward the location of the point squad. Then I saw Thompson, who had been with the point squad, lying on the path. I saw that Haffey was much farther forward and to the side of the trail, seeking cover but trying to fire his M-79. However, everyone was pinned down with firing all around and hand grenades being thrown in all directions.

VN: Can you describe what happened next? A statement written by members of the platoon says that you ‘dashed through withering enemy fire and exploding grenades without regard for personal safety to reach the dying machine gunner,’ and that therefore you also became a target.

Rascon: I could hear the NVA talking and yelling — I think they did not expect us, either. Both sides were trying to get in better fixed defensive positions. It was hell — tree limbs were falling from the machine-gun and hand-grenade explosions. I could hear Sergeants Lacuna and Cook yelling, trying to bring the remaining recon element up to outflank the enemy. However, the point squad was trapped and pinned down. It was weird — our two machine guns were up front. I don’t know how this happened. Somebody said, ‘Send the machine guns up front,’ but they did not know that [machine-gunner Pfc Larry M.] Gibson was already up there, as well as Thompson. This ended up being fortunate — it kept everybody down, and it gave me cover fire. After a few tries, I made my way to Thompson. He was face down. I lay down between his legs and tried to find out where he was hit. Both of us were looking down machine-gun alley — I could see the gun that was shooting at us and the others. But I couldn’t see or feel where Thompson was hit, so I crawled over him, turned around and put my back to the enemy fire. At this time, I could see out of the corner of my eye that Haffey, who was to the front ahead of me, was in a position where he was unable to fire his M-79, so he broke out his .45 pistol and started using that to counter the enemy. Incoming hand grenades were all over the place. I was hit by shrapnel and by gunfire in the hip — the bullet went up my spine and exited by my shoulder blade. I am only 5 feet 7 inches tall, but I managed to drag Thompson, who was over 6 feet, off the path, where I could examine him. By his wounds, I concluded quickly that he had been killed instantly.

VN: Other members of the point squad were apparently still pinned down and were running out of ammunition. But they were able to lay down covering fire and move to better defensive positions. They described how you further risked your life by retrieving ammunition belts from Thompson’s body and running through enemy fire to deliver them to the second point squad machine-gunner, Pfc Larry Gibson.

Rascon: I heard Gibson yelling for ammo. His assistant machine-gunner was not there — he was pinned down someplace else. But nobody could move forward. I crawled toward Gibson, who was on my right. He was yelling, ‘I need ammo!’ I saw he was shot in the leg and was bleeding. I said, ‘You’re shot!’ Gibson yelled back at me, ‘Get away from me, Doc!’ Gibson’s concern was to maintain his suppressive fire on the enemy. I remembered that Thompson had two bandoleers of ammo wrapped around him. As Gibson was still putting down covering fire, I went back to Thompson and stripped the bandoleers off him and brought them back to Gibson, who at that time was almost out of ammo. He still didn’t want any aid. He just wanted to keep firing at the NVA positions. As I left Gibson looking for other wounded, a hand grenade went over my head. It landed in front of Spec. 4 Jerry Lewis, a buddy of Haffey’s. I didn’t know until years later that Haffey had seen Lewis hit and killed instantly by the hand grenade and that Lewis was his best friend. At this point, Gibson, who had been able to reload, got the machine gun going again.

VN: Squad members wrote that your ‘resolute action enabled Gibson to resume covering fire for the pinned-down point squad, when it was then able to continue engaging the enemy.’

Rascon: After Lewis was hit, I started looking for other wounded.

VN: I understand that you saw a hand grenade being lobbed at Haffey, who had been wounded, that landed just 5 feet from him. You rushed through enemy fire, knocked him down and covered him with your body to protect him. The squad members’ report said you saved him from further serious injury.

Rascon: Seconds before the hand grenade landed, I saw Haffey trying to place himself in a better position, but he was shot in the hip point-blank from about 3 meters by an enemy soldier. He later told me he remembered the guy looking at him and shooting him. I saw a number of hand grenades had been thrown within meters of him. I crawled over to him and threw myself on him, knocking him down. We both ended up getting hit by the shrapnel from the grenades. Haffey’s only concern was to make sure that I could get back to Lewis to see how he was. I told Haffey I would go back to look at Lewis. I got back to Lewis, and immediately realized that the grenade had killed him instantly. After I left him, within a few seconds more hand grenades went off. One hit me in the face — that wound was the one that hurt the most! I thought my head spun around three times. The war stopped for me — everything was in slow motion. Blood was spurting out through my mouth. I thought my jaw was gone, and I was deathly afraid. I managed to pull myself together and remembered the other machine gun that had been abandoned on the trail. I was really afraid the M-60 and spare ammo would fall into the hands of the enemy, who were very close. Without much forethought, I made my way back to the trail. I grabbed the M-60, the spare barrel and two boxes of ammo. Strange to say, I was not hit that time by gunfire. I could hear everybody yelling: ‘Cover, Doc! Cover, Doc!’

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