October 1983 Island of Grenada. US military. Choppers landed and we got out and were supposed to run to a tree line. LZ (Landing zone) was supposed to be cold (no enemy fire) but it was hot as hell.

My RTO (radio telephone operator) was missing when we hit the jungle off the LZ and I needed to call into my CO and tell him the LZ was hot and to go to the alternate LZ but could not find my RTO.

All of a sudden we see him in the middle of the drop zone inside a swampy oily mess like quick sand. I run out to him and the dam oil was boiling, bubbles all around. He was screaming bloody murder. I pulled him out thinking he was burning up (Grenada is a volcanic island) and when we got to the tree line, told the medic to attend to him cause I thought he had burns. He turned to me and said “sir, that was not hot oil I was in, those were rounds hitting the pit I was in”. Enemy was trying to take both of us out.

I realized right when he said that that my right leg was soaking wet and my side was hurting like hell. Loosened up my line gear, stuck my hand down my side and my hand was soaked in blood. I had been shot, but luckily the round hit my canteen that splintered off and the metal from my canteen cup had pierced my side. I got dizzy and passed out. Luckily I didn’t lose much blood and the medics had me patched up pretty quick. Crazy that with dozens and dozens of rounds that were fired at us, I was the only one that got shot and it just barely grazed me.