Senior Writer
Senior
United States 🇺🇸

William M

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Bio

William is a Purple Heart veteran of the Vietnam War. He has been a principal in a stock brokerage firm, a sales manager at a high-tech firm, and an award-winning documentary film maker specializing in biographies. He was the author of the highly acclaimed book Crazy Horse: The Lakota Warrior's Life and Legacy telling the Crazy Horse family's oral history. He has also written his own memoir "In My Father's Footsteps." He is well versed in Philippine, Scandinavian, and Native American history and genealogy.

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As a Story Terrace writer, William M interviews customers and turns their life stories into books. Get to know our writer better by reading the autobiographical anecdote below!

A Miracle

As morning faded into afternoon, Foxy and I walked down a dirt road chatting. Our other two platoon brothers trailed us by 15 meters. One was named Richard Fell. I remember him for a reason. As we continued to saunter, I suddenly heard a loud grating noise that sounded like something skidding on the dirt directly behind me. When I turned around, I saw Fell hurling up into the air like a rag doll.

A speeding American jeep had hit him.

Being the medic, I rushed to his aid. Upon kneeling by his side, I found his eyes open, covered in dust and seemingly lifeless. He had no pulse and was not breathing.

His tongue had slid into the back of his throat.

I stuck my finger in his mouth to try to dislodge his tongue from the back his throat. His tongue was too slippery.

Then I remembered a film on tracheotomies I had seen.

If I could cut open his windpipe, I could get him breathing again. I took out my bayonet and pushed the point against his windpipe. But I was frightened my bayonet would break through his skin and pierce his neck all the way to the ground. It sounds silly, but extreme situations make for extreme thoughts.

I put my bayonet down.

Then I remembered I had a hollow plastic tube in my breast pocket. So, I pulled it out and shoved it down his throat. Thankfully, it opened his windpipe. I began giving him mouth to mouth through the tube while the sole passenger from the jeep that had hit Fell pounded on his chest to try to get his heart going. We did this for about ten minutes, which felt like an entire day.

Finally an ambulance rolled up bearing our battalion surgeon, Doctor Wong, who knelt down and examined Fell. He shook his head slowly, looked me in the eye and said, “I’m sorry, but he’s dead.”

We then loaded Fell into the ambulance. I rode in the back of the ambulance with Fell, continuing to give him mouth to mouth, hoping against hope.

When we got to the hospital, we carried Fell in on a stretcher. We set him down on the operating table. Doctor Wong’s medical assistant inserted an IV into his arm.

And then something remarkable happened.

Fell sat up and asked what had happened.

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