No
life remained in this 19 year-old. Life that only a short time ago had been
bubbling over...
Written by veteran Frank R. Rice, Army.
It was October 1970 and Reforger II 2/63 Armor HHC First Infantry was on
the move through the Bavarian countryside. We had been in the country for
about three weeks and were bivwacked in a forest area, near a rail head,
where our M-60 Tanks were to be loaded for shipment in preparation for the
trip back to Ft. Riley, KS, then our home. A group of us sat and shared
the stories of the day and had some hot food, our first hot meal in two
days because we had been on the move and C-rats were all we had time for.
PFC. Billy Donavin from Los Angeles, California a tank crew member who almost
everyone in the unit liked from the company down was part of this group.
He followed the Hippie lifestyle before being drafted and those of us who
only read about these Hippies before entering the service looked at him
with some amusement. Billy couldn't stop talking about how he looked forward
to heading home to LA for the holidays and how it wouldn't be long after
that when his two years since being drafted would be coming to a close.
I was a Medical Field Specialist at the time and as all other medics, I went by the call of Doc. As the call came for us all to get back to work so others could eat, we all parted ways with "see ya later!"
One of the cooks had sustained a burn of the foot from spilled boiling water and I was in the process of cutting off his boot when a hurried call came from the railsiding that someone had been injured. I told the cook I'd be right back and grabbed my medical bag and ran the short distance.
Upon arrival I observed a crowd surrounding the front and back of two tanks already loaded on the flatcar. As I got closer I could see what appeared to be someone standing between the two from the waist up. It was Billy Donavin. As I got closer I could see that his legs hung limply. Seems Billy had been chocking the tracks so that the tanks would not move during shipment. Chocking was the act of wedging large wooden blocks, or chocks, and spiking them in place in front and in back of the wheels or tracks of the vehicles. Then tiedowns were used to finish securing them.
In the process you were not supposed to go between the vehicles or crawl under, but instead go over the top from side to side to place these chocks. Well, between being tired, anxious to go home, and not thinking, Billy passed between the tanks, each weighing 52 tons. Apparently the car moved slightly and the tank that had not yet been secured, shifted.
Billy was crushed and nearly crushed in half, no life remained in this 19 year-old. Life that only a short time ago had been bubbling over. As we supported his body the Monsterious piece of steel was backed off and he was gently removed as the last bits of air escaped his lungs in the cold, damp, drizzly night. The scene illuminated with flood lights and vehicle headlights. The big green ambulance was summoned closer and Billy was placed inside.
I crawled in beside the driver for the short ride, that seemed to take forever, to the dustoff site for the flight to the Army Hospital about 100 miles away.
Billy got to go home a little ahead of time but not the way he intended and the suprise was not the way he planned for his family and friends. He made the final trip to LA. within a few days. God Bless him!
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