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The medic carries everything the platoon has for its wounded. He has to make it last.
Daniel Tomczak, a platoon medic from Dearborn, Michigan, packs his aid bag the same way after every call: tourniquets on the left, dressings behind them, albumin at the bottom, syrettes in the flap. On a dike in the paddies he pulls a pilot and a door gunner out of a crashed Huey with the rotor still turning, and hurts his shoulder doing it.
Then the platoon goes out along a trail where the first hamlet is empty and the pots are still on the fire. Sergeant Barlow, Lieutenant Nordby, Hollander on the radio and Tomczak's friend Villarreal carry what they can. When a mine goes off and the medevac cannot reach them, the wounded have to be carried to it, in the heat, on the last of the water.
