Yep. My dad was chief of surgery at Tripler Army Medical Center 1968-1971. If you were injured in Viet Nam, and you survived the battlefield, you either went to Clark AFB (Philippines) for less critical injuries or Tripler for bad stuff. He was transferred to be CoS at Walter Reed (in DC) in 1971, and I stayed on to graduate high school. (Barry Obama was a fifth-grader at my school when I was a senior. I probably shoved him out of the way in the school bookstore at some point.)Military brat?
Yep. My dad was chief of surgery at Tripler Army Medical Center 1968-1971. If you were injured in Viet Nam, and you survived the battlefield, you either went to Clark AFB (Philippines) for less critical injuries or Tripler for bad stuff. He was transferred to be CoS at Walter Reed (in DC) in 1971, and I stayed on to graduate high school. (Barry Obama was a fifth-grader at my school when I was a senior. I probably shoved him out of the way in the school bookstore at some point.)
My dad died in 1980, but I still remember his Social Security number (every military dependent knew his/her sponsor’s number) to this day, and I have to look up DH’s SSN every time.![]()
It was pretty awful. He had done a fellowship with Michael deBakey and Denton Cooley in Houston in cardiothoracic surgery, so he was the chest guy. My maternal uncle was also an Army doctor (administered several Army hospitals in Thailand), and they both died of service-connected conditions (Agent Orange, etc.)That is an awesome story. I can’t imagine the horrid wounds your dad saw.
