Jim Dempsey was an amazing man who taught us that each moment of our life can and does have an effect on everyone around us. Those moments, like drops of water in the ocean, may seem simple – even overlooked to us. But to others, they may report the memory for years to come – and those memories shape who we become, and how we will, in turn, act or react to someone else. Here is one such moment, and a good depiction of Jim “Doc” Dempsey.
“First meeting”
I was drafted in June 1966. After basic training I was assigned to the Light Vehicle Drivers Course for my AIT. What a gift. I have always been a car freak, loved to drive and had even worked a couple of jobs driving small trucks.
AIT was a breeze. When orders came down I was first told I was going to Germany. Oops! They made a mistake. I was really being assigned to Viet Nam. Going to a place called An Khe. I knew there was a war going on, but it was fairly early in the war and I knew very little about it, and had no idea where An Khe was or what units were there.
On arrival in An Khe I and the rest of the planeload were taken to the 15th Admin Company where we were processed in, and awaited further assignment. It became apparent we were in the 1st Cavalry pision, Air Mobile but that really had no particular meaning. It was quite strange with the different sights sounds and smells.
Within a couple of days I was assigned to HHC 2/5 (headquarters and headquarters company 2nd Battalion, 5th Cavalry Regiment) as a driver.
Oops again! There is nothing for me to drive, so I am reassigned, this time to B (Bravo) Company 2/5 (2nd Battalion, 5th Cavalry Regiment) a “line” Company. I am to be a rifleman. Commonly known as 11Bravo.
There is only a skeleton crew from the Company here in Base Camp, so I am given my gear which consists of my rifle and web gear and sent “forward”. Forward is an LZ called Hammond, and it is a forward re supply base for the troops on the front lines.
I get my first ride on a Huey helicopter and the un-mistakable sound and feel of being a passenger in that machine with the doors open.
As informal as it was back in Base Camp, it is markedly more informal here at LZ Hammond. There are also just a few people here from Bravo Company, and it’s like they don’t know what to do with me. I get to just “hang out” for a couple of days when the decision is made that they can’t keep me here any longer and it’s time that I join the Company in the field.
Another ride in a Huey which I later learn is a “log” bird. It is late in the day and it takes me to what amounts to a mountain top, drops me off and I feel like I’m in some World War II movie. People walking around with rifles slung over their shoulder or just being held informally, many with no shirts on, and looking seriously grubby.
I have been told to report to a Lt. Butler, and being as “green” as I am, I’m not sure exactly how to do this. I see that “chow” is being served. You have to understand that the buffet line consists of a line of marmite cans (insulated metal containers designed to transport food) lined up on the ground with some soldiers standing behind them serving food to others walking through the line. I don’t see anyone that appears to obviously be an Officer, so I walk up to the server closest to me and ask who Lt. Butler might be.
Waddaya know, I have found the right person, standing there serving chow, no shirt and this an Officer. This is definitely a different Army that I have been exposed to in the U.S. Lt. Butler tells me to follow the trail past a row of pup tents made of pairs of ponchos rigged together. He tells me to find “Diaz” which I do, and I am shown a place to bed down for the night.
The next morning is a beehive of activity and everyone is packing up their gear to get ready to move out. After some hurried instructions of how to set up my web gear, which I had never gotten having not gone through Advanced Infantry Training (AIT) I get my stuff together and we move out. We are walking in a line up a ridge where the land drops off to either side of us. It is hot, humid and carrying all my gear is difficult.
I am sweating profusely and my head feels like it is in a steam bath with my steel pot (helmet) on. I don’t know how much time has elapsed as I try to keep up with the column. The next thing I know I am laying on the ground with this big fella leaning over me sprinkling water on my face from his canteen and patting me on the cheeks to wake me up. It appears that I passed out, and it turns out that the big fella is Doc Dempsey.
He lifts me back on my feet and takes my web gear off, and we start moving along with the column. As we walk, little by little as I seem to get accustomed to the grind and the heat, he hands me my gear little by little until I have it all back.
I have no idea at this time that there will be other experiences in this strange combat environment that we will share. In time I will come to know this big man much better and learn how much I would grow to like and respect him.
Harvey Rothman