Lou Sorrell's Memories of Steve

 

 

The Doc was an amicable, likable sort of guy. A little older than most of the rest of us, he took things fairly casually and "in stride." He was always professional about his work, his duties and his responsibilities. He often carried an M16 and would join in fire-fights with us Marines, just as if he was a grunt himself! In fact, we all sort of considered him in that way. Understand that he didn't have to join in, that wasn't his job or function in the platoon. But, the situation being favorable to him doing so, you could always find him, count on him, to execute fire-and-maneuver tactics just like the grunts he took care of.

My memories of Doc are few, but very sweet. He was always there, both during and after the fighting, to "check you out" and make sure that everyone was physically all right. Tending to minor and major wounds alike. He cared for each of us, as all corpsman did, like "we were his own." He took his job and responsibilities very seriously, but maintained a sense of humor about it at the same time. That later quality, his sense of humor, always made us Marines feel better about ourselves and those that had been wounded or killed. As I remember, the Doc would never say anyone was dead, rather, he would say, "They'll fix him up in (the hospital in) DaNang." Or, "He's not as badly wounded as it seems. He'll be ok." No one was a "lost soul" to the Doc.  He just had a way of making things look a little "brighter" and lightening your load.