Another Hohenfels Story (An Intubation in the Field)

I remember another amusing story from one of the Hohenfels deployments.  I can’t remember if I was the pilot in command or the copilot or even who the crew chief or the other pilot were.  But I do remember that the medic was Sgt. Larry Youch.

Larry was a character—a bald, fire-plug-shaped guy with a very deep ornery streak and great sense of humor with whom I enjoyed flying a lot.  He was also a very good medic.  On the flight down to Hohenfels from Grafenwoehr, he was telling us about some recent training the Army had sent him to where he learned, among other things, to be able to insert endotrachael (ET) tubes in people, (i.e., to intubate them).  This was part of advanced certification he had received, and, as he told it, greatly increased the level of care he was able to provide critical patients.  He showed us a case with three different sizes of them, from infant up to adult, and the special tool used to insert them through the vocal cords down the trachea.  He was very excited about his new capability and said that he hoped he’d have a chance to use it sometime during our two-week deployment.

After a very quiet week, we finally got a call for an “urgent medevac” (meaning potential loss of life, limb, or eyesight if medical treatment is not received immediately) for a soldier on the range who had evidently gotten run over by a tank and had a broken leg.

We jumped in the helicopter, cranked up, got the coordinates from Range Control, and headed 10 miles away to the LZ that the grunts had set up for us.

As we landed, we could see a parked tank about 200 feet in front of us and a bunch of soldiers clustered around another one who was laying on the ground behind the tank.  We stayed running as Larry grabbed his med bag and headed over to the crowd.  We could see him examining the patient then issuing directions.  Two of the grunt medics brought a stretcher over and lifted the patient into it.  Then, just like in a Keystone Cops or something, they each bent down to pick up the stretcher’s handles—but facing opposite directions.  As they both stepped forward (away from each other), they lost control of the stretcher, dumping the patient on the ground.  The other pilot and I just looked at each other and shook our heads.  Army grunt medics were never the sharpest knives in the drawer!

They tried a second time, but screwed that up, too, and we could see Larry just telling them to put the patient on the ground.  Then he (in what we thought was a rather leisurely way) walked back to the helicopter, plugged into the intercom, and told us that the guy had been completely run over by the tank, and had not only a broken leg, but a broken everything and was very dead.  Then he told us to standby, unplugged from the intercom and began rummaging around in some of his gear in the back of the helicopter.  When he reappeared in front of the helicopter walking back to the patient, we could see that he had one of the ET tubes in his hand!

Yes, Larry got his chance that day to do his first “live” insertion of an ET tube in an actual patient.  After a successful intubation, he finally got the grunt medics coordinated enough to carry the patient to the helicopter, giving us a little wink as he passed by the cockpit.

We took the patient back to the dispensary where he was pronounced by the doctor there.    Larry was very happy that he had been able to put his training to good use (and we were very happy for him)!