Somebody might remember this... I don't know if it was Thanksgiving or Christmas 1968 or some other day around that time. I had only been flying a short time. We were dropping mermite cans full of hot chow at some remote firebase; I was standing on the pad outside the ship, pulling mermite cans out, when a mortar round landed behind me, just outside our rotor disk, close.

I smashed the hell out of my right shin on the gun mount as I dove back into the ship and we got out of there fastquick with some of the cans still on board. Couple minutes later, as we cruised back towards Kontum, I reached down to rub my sore shin and my hand came back covered with blood. Looked down, and there was a puddle of blood around my boot.

I went down on the floor of the ship jabbering about getting "hit" and whoever the gunner was got on me and started cutting my bloody pantleg up. Big bruise, no holes anywhere. Huh?

Wasn't blood. Beet juice. Mortar shrapnel had punched a jagged hole in the end of the mermite can, warm juice leaked out and blew all over my leg.

You think I got jerked around a little for a few days after that?

Merry Christmas.