Haverford man recalls Khe Sanh in book

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

By Sam Strike

Haverford resident James Finnegan, M.D., says one of the happiest moments in his life was seeing the cover of his recently published book, “In the Company of Marines: A Surgeon Remembers Vietnam.”

The practicing surgeon, whose previous publishing has been limited to medical journals, has printed some of his stories and reflections from his year serving as a combat surgeon in the Vietnam War, part of which was during the famous battle of Khe Sanh.

Over the years Finnegan occasionally wrote down the moments and memories from his year in Vietnam as a Navy surgeon assigned to treat members of the Third Marine Division in the northernmost provinces of South Vietnam.

The book was written for a small audience of family and friends but has gained interest from outside parties, including the National Museum of the Marine Corps in Quantico, Va.

At a dinner a few years ago, Finnegan found himself talking about his experiences in Vietnam from September 1967 to September 1968.

His daughter commented that it was the first time she heard him talking about that time.

“My own kids didn’t know what I did,” Finnegan said, adding that he then realized that “I really do want everyone to know” about his year as a combat surgeon.

That year included serving as the commanding officer of a surgical team in the heart of the siege of Khe Sanh, where he encountered daily bombardments, constant danger and saved, and lost, uncountable young American men.

Finnegan, still a full-time surgeon at a medial clinic in Camden, N.J., harkens back to Vietnam as a “pivotal point” and “watershed moment” in his life and the lives of his friends with whom he still keeps in touch.

At that time in America, social unrest was at a boiling point, and although there are many unanswered questions about the war in Vietnam and the siege at Khe Sanh, which accounted for hundreds of U.S. deaths and thousands of injuries, Finnegan’s book focuses on his individual experiences and those of the men he encountered.

At “Charlie Med,” the term used for some base’s medical unit, Finnegan recollects, the doctors were always well-stocked with medical supplies. Navy corpsmen and those fighting on the lines all worked together for a common cause, even if they didn’t quite understand the whole picture. The cause was to keep each other alive.

Writing about the siege, which took place roughly from January to April 1968, Finnegan writes, “It soon became difficult to distinguish one day from another. The wounded arrived at all hours, sometimes one or two at a time and other times one or two dozen, totaling over 2,500 during the three months of the siege. It seems impossible to believe today, but we took care of each one of them in a timely and appropriate fashion. To this day we repeatedly affirm and reaffirm that no wounded Marine ever received anything but the best possible treatment even under unrelenting incoming fire. I fear I may overuse the phrase ‘incoming fire,’ but it would be impossible to tell the true story of Charlie Med without emphasizing that much of the story unfolds while the base underwent almost constant bombardment by enemy gunners.”

Finnegan was a Navy physician assigned to the Marines (standard as the Marines don’t technically have their own medical staff) but states in his book that he has always felt like a Marine, even if he can’t say that he really was one.

Still, many have recognized what he and other Navy physicians and corpsmen did in those jungles of Vietnam. Finnegan served in the Third Medical Battalion of the 3rd Marine Division.

Recently, a man at Finnegan’s golf club whom he has known for years saw his book in the golf shop and approached him, saying, “I’ll call you a Marine, and I was a Marine,” Finnegan said.

The war in Vietnam marked an advanced stage of helicopter technology in war, in which many casualties could be brought in at same time, and the quick transportation ushered in a new era of combat casualties – those who might have died earlier in the field were rescued, but sometimes in unthinkable, unsalvageable conditions.

Still, holding Khe Sanh was so important to those overseeing the war that the medical unit was well stocked, even when it came to blood.

If they needed something, they got it, Finnegan said, adding that once the Marines flew jets to Okinawa to get them some catheters.

Death didn’t happen because of lack of care in the medical combat base, which included a triage bunker, operating rooms, helo pad and graves-registration tent.

During this year of his life, death was all around Finnegan – inexplicable, gut-wrenching death. No doubt this included the possibility of his own and those to whom he had grown close.

“The message is certainly there, but you can’t let that paralyze you,” he said of the chance of being killed. “You do what everyone else does.”

And that is to get their jobs done while dodging artillery.

To this day, Finnegan keeps in touch with many men he knew back in that watershed year. The Marine magazines he subscribes to are filled with men and loved ones trying to find someone who knew them or their relative in Vietnam, and in reunions, so many people just trying to reconnect to those who can understand, those who were there.

As for Finnegan, “I’m trying to get my act together and write another book because there are so many stories left out,” he said. “So many untold stories.”

In the epilogue to his book, Finnegan writes, “Here’s what I know. Nineteen-year-old corporals do not declare war. Young lieutenants and captains who lead platoons and companies into battle do not choose those battles. They just fight them. Presidents and senators and congressman declare or authorize war. They seldom ever fight them. They love making speeches about them. Many of them have never served in the military. The majority have never seen combat.

“Here’s what I wish. I wish there would never be another war.”

“In the Company of Marines” is available at the Readers Forum in Wayne, Ardmore Paperback Book Shop and online.

Ellie