Peter Fedasch

I was assigned to India Company, 3rd Battalion, 9th Marines in early June 1968. I was a Navy Corpsman and was new to Vietnam when we got orders to dismantle Khe Sanh. Sergeant Fedasch and I became friends quickly ... maybe having to do with the fact that we were both New Yorkers. He had jungle rot on his face and I was treating it as he was about to rotate out of country and was going to get married upon his return to the "world". He did not want his family and fiancee to see the scabs on his face. And he was teaching me, a newbie in country, to use my wits and intellect to stay alive. Peter was assigned to take some Marines out to "police" an area. He was seated in the cab of a truck (on the right side) when an incoming rocket landed nearby. I heard the shouts for a Corpsman and got there as quickly as I could. Another Corpsman was already on the scene and attending to another fellow Marine, Cpl Noone, who took shrapnel to his back. Our other platoon Sergeant, Sgt Jones, jumped into the driver's seat, I on the right running board, and we raced to the aid bunker near the air strip. I felt for a pulse and there was none. It was not until we had moved Peter into the bunker that I realized it was my friend. He was my first casualty and it had a lasting impact. I lost a friend, but his lessons in survival got me through that war. I will always owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to him ... I hope his family and his fiancee have accepted the loss ... I hope he is in peace.