Every time we went on an operation in to the Bo Bans, we would lose at least a dozen legs and arms to mines. When word came down that we were going in to the Bo Bans, grunts would get a sick feeling in their gut, and corpsmen would double-up on their medical supplies.
The Bo Bans was a bad place, a very spooky place--a place I don't like to remember. In one week, on an operation there, one of my good friends lost an arm, and another lost his leg. That same week on the same operation, my best friend was killed. I received multiple wounds to my legs. It was my last trip to the Bo Bans.
I then made my third and final trip to 1st Med EVAC Hospital, DaNang.
Sometimes, I awake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, and I know I've been walking through the Bo Bans again; the place continues to haunt me. I wonder if some present-day Vietnamese ever sees the the ghost of the young man I once was, wandering through the Bo Bans.
