Veterans Day special
After 45 years, Gary Berg reunited with medic who helped save his life in Vietnam
PURPLE HEART — New Richland native Gary Berg holds the Purple Heart Award and plaque he earned in Vietman in 1968, a day before he was set to go home. (Star Eagle photo by Jim Lutgens)
By JIM LUTGENS
Editor/Publisher
Gary Berg was sitting around a swimming pool in Southern California, enjoying a reunion of the Navy Seabees, when he heard someone call his name.
“Gary Berg? Is that you?” said the man. “As bad as you looked the last time I saw you, I didn't think you'd make it. I never thought I'd see you again.”
The last time the man – still known as “Doc” to Berg – saw him, they were near an airstrip in Vietnam awaiting a helicopter, and Berg was hanging on for life.
It was January 31, 1968, the early stages of the Tet Offensive, and Berg was scheduled to go home the next day. But a North Vietnamese B40 rocket found his foxhole, killing one man while severely injuring Berg and two others. Doc helped pull them to safety and wondered what happened to the injured soldiers.He found out, at least about Berg, at the reunion a few weeks ago.
After a long, arduous road, Berg did make it back - though never close to 100 percent – and while he wonders why the United States was ever involved in Vietnam, his eyes – left legally blind from the war – show pride in having served his country and no bitterness from what he left behind.
The reunion with Doc (whom Berg later learned is named Harold) was memorable and emotional - “pretty cool,” according to Berg - but more on that later.
Doing His Part
Berg was a typical 18-year-old after graduating from New Richland-Hartland High School in 1965. He drove a '54 Chevy two-door and lived on the family farm between New Richland and Ellendale.
In school, Berg was well liked.
“He was one of the nicest boys in our class,” said Sharon Eckart, who graduated with him.
His parents were and are well known in the area, the late Oscar “Buddy” Berg and Betty Berg, who resides at Whispering Oak in Ellendale. Berg has two sisters, Kris Budach of rural New Richland and Kathy Pederman of Anoka. He has four children: Michelle Tischer, Austin; Marcie Ross, Waseca; Matt Berg, Waseca; and Mitchell Berg, Norfolk, VA. Mitchell has followed the footsteps of his father and grandfather in the Navy.
Berg enlisted in the summer of ’65 and joined the Navy in November. Why?
“Just because the war was going on,” he said. “Some guys were getting drafted, some were enlisting. I just thought I should do my part.”
Like The Lottery
“It's ironic,” said Berg. “I enlisted in the Navy, but I ended up spending just about the whole time with the Marines.”
That's because Berg was assigned to the Navy Seabees, a batallion with a really cool but misleading name. It's actually the Navy CBs, or Construction Battalion, whose task is to build infrastructure alongside Marines. Berg worked as a truck driver.
“I actually liked what I did over there,” he said.
He logged an estimated 15,000 miles and fired his rifle once in Vietnam. He was looking forward to going home when that fateful night changed his life forever.
A stroke of bad luck put him in the line of fire.
“They rotated who was out on the perimeter,” said Berg. “My team was scheduled that night.”
He remembers a hail fire of rocket rounds.
“They were dropping them all over, for most of the night,” he said. “One of them just happened to land in the trench with me, that's all. It's a lot like winning the lottery – except from the opposite side.”
Recovery
The next thing Berg knew, several days had passed and he was waking up in a hospital in Denang, riddled with shrapnel, legally blind and with an arm he didn’t know he’d get to keep. From there he was flown to a hospital in the Philippines to remove the shrapnel.
“I remember very little of that,” he said. “In that kind of situation they put you on morphine from the start.”
He does remember what happened to his eyes.
When the rocket blast hit the trench he was in, the blast went up through it, causing Berg's eyes to bleed, leaving scar tissue, which caused macular degeneration. He's legally blind because his vision can't be corrected past 20/200. He gets around his Waseca house just fine and, with the help of a special magnifier, can even read a little.
“It was instant,” he said of his loss of sight. “It doesn't get any worse, it doesn't get any better.”
Back Home
After a long rehabilitation process, Berg made his way back to New Richland, but he didn't exactly advertise he was a Vietnam veteran.
“When I got home, unless you were at a VFW or American Legion, you hardly wanted to admit you were in Vietnam. I never got spit on like some of them did, but you could tell that people didn't like you. Now, thank God, there's a different attitude with guys coming back from Iraq and Afghanistan.”
Berg didn't know what he was going to do for a job until he ran into Charlie Evenson.
“He asked me what I was doing,” said Berg. “I said, 'Looking for a job.' He said, 'You come work for us.'”
So Berg worked for Evenson Construction – under Charlie, Roger and Winston Evenson – for 12 years, performing the tasks he could, getting a ride to and from work from the Evensons.
“I was lucky to work there,” said Berg.
Professional Success
At age 32, Berg made a personal decision. His body would not stand another 33 years of concrete work.
So he did something completely different. He went to college, earning a degree from UM-Waseca and graduating summa cum laude from Mankato State.
He went on to work for the Internal Revenue Service for 23 years, retiring six years ago at age 60.
“I worked in customer service,” said Berg. “They had me try auditing for a while, but I didn't enjoy it.”
Closure
Berg, along with his buddy and fellow veteran Sam Jesness, who accompanied him to the Seabees reunion, returned to Vietnam in 2004 for 21 days.
“It was really a good trip,” said Berg. “We went back to the bases we worked on. When they put you on a helicopter, you wonder what happened over there afterward. We finally got closure on it.”
Berg was a little concerned flying into Ho Chi Mihn City (which he still calls Hanoi), especially on May Day, on which the North Vietnamese celebrate communism. But he experienced very little negativity.
“We were treated as nice as anyone could be treated,” said Berg. “We ran into a couple older Vietnamese, and you could tell they were not real fond of us, but they didn't say or do anything. Most people would smile and talk.”
They covered a lot of territory between Ho Chi Mihn City and Chu Lai in South Vietnam, encountering hospitality and inexpensive lodging.
“It's so cheap over there,” he said. “We'd stay in four-star hotels, where you'd get breakfast and they'd do your laundry for about 30 bucks for the two of us. They're typical Asian people, hard workers and glad to help you out all the time.”
Berg admits there are times when he's been stressed out because of his disability, but he's learned to live with it, thanks in part to the trip.
“That trip back to Vietnam in '04, that kind of healed everything,” he said.
Seabees Reunion
“It was real interesting,” said Berg of the recent reunion at Fort Hueneme, north of Los Angeles. He saw several guys from his old battalion but was not expecting to see Doc, who pulled him out of that trench in Vietnam and waited with him for the helicopter.
“He said, 'Do you remember me?'” said Berg. “He gave me a big hug and said, 'I'm Doc. I probably saved your life, and now you just made mine – because you didn't die!'”
Also there was the chaplain from his old battalion. A solemn memorial service was held for Seabees lost in Vietnam, the chaplain reading a name, then ringing a bell.
Then he summoned Doc, saying he had something to share.
“Doc talks,” said Berg. “And then he says, there's someone I want to come up to the microphone, Gary Berg. I was so nervous. I didn't know what to say. For some reason that song by Toby Keith, 'American Soldier,' came to mind, and I remembered the lyrics, all gave some, some gave all. I said, 'If it wasn't for Doc, I might have been one that gave all.'”
Doc cried.
Gary Berg remained grateful to be alive.