Pauls' Mission being over, it was time to decide how he would continue on. He could have returned to College, which would have been a great choice, however he had to deal with the personal fact that many of his friends had taken up arms for the 'war' in Vietnam. In fact one, Gary Alexander a close friend had returned home being serious wounded. Paul felt the deferment for his Mission had been possible due to such sacrifices and decided he would go to the Los Angeles area and seek work until his turn came up in the 'draft'. He found work in the 'mail room' at the NCR Company. (Again a lot of walking!) He became well acquainted, with new friends while he was working here, and had a number of buildings he delivered mail to, which made a wide range of new friends.
When the call came to report for induction, he followed the councel his Dad had always given him, if you do it, give it your best. Well, out of over 300 inductees the day Paul reported, he was in the top 13 in testing.
These few were taken into a room and offered 'special training' if they would 'enlist'. I don't know about the others, but Paul decided to take the offer so he could be a Medic. He was discharged as a 'draftee' and then enlisted for a 6 year term of service. His training began not far from home. When he graduated basic training, where he had been a leader in his group, he was sent on to Para Troup training. The weather was not the least bit hospitable so the going was less than freindly. He had a pretty exciting time when they were training on the tower - repelling. You have to do that both ways it appears. One way going feet first another going head first. All went well until his turn to go down head first. The start was fine, but shortly there after, he lost control and fell very fast, which looked very much as if they were going to have a pretty bad scene. Nearing the bottom of the tower, some how, Paul gained control, and came to a sharp halt before smacking head first into the ground. Not intentinal, but quite a thrill none the less.
Marching was one of the things that was required. Good weather, bad weather, sore feet, cold and miserable, out they went and on they trudged up and down hill and dale. It was only because Paul had the orthodics that he was able to complete such rigorous training. Had he not had those, he said he would have washed out long before he had gone into his 'special forces' training.
Once he graduated from 'jump school', he was sent to Fort Sam Houston in Texas for his Medical training for the Green Beret. This was not just a basic or even a regular First Aid course. In fact it couldn't have been classified as an EMT training. This was really Medical! They had time in surgery, were trained in amputation of joints (I won't go into detail on this one, but believe me it was extensive). He spent time in the 'delivery room' learning how to deliver babies. The Hospital there was part of the daily routine for the Medical Training Paul underwent. One of the classes was 'pharmacuticals'. At first it appeared this would not be much of a problem but the deeper they got into the subject the more it became apparent Paul did not have the mathematical background for the figuring needed to complete this part satisfactorily. The Trainer sought Paul after one of the tests and explained to him further time in class would mean 'washout'. Paul had shown such exceptional talent in all the rest of the courses he did not want to see that happen. His suggestion was for Paul to resign and he would recommend him as a qualified Combat Medic. Then he could apply for transfer into the Ranger Company or 'special forces unit' since he qualified for that as well. Taking the Trainers advice, Paul resigned and was immediately transferred.
Paul had leave before he was shipped overseas so he took the opportunity to visit friends at BYU in Provo, Utah before he came home to leave his car. (We had taken his VW to him when he got to Fort Sam Houston.)
When Paul arrived in Vietnam, a Medic, he was not allowed to report to the Ranger Unit, but was sent immediately to the front lines because the need for Medics was so critical. He was there for three months caring for the wounded, etc. He finally applied to his Commanding Officer for better supplies than he was getting, and suggested he be allowed to go back to base to get the things he needed. Permission was granted and Paul went back to the Supply Depot and gathered up what he wanted. While he was there, he asked if there happened to be a Ranger Unit near?
He was shown an enclosed area where they were stationed. He went to the gate and asked to see the Sgt. in charge. Looking like any other soldier he was informed that the area was off limits and he could not enter. He again asked the Guard to tell the Sgt. in charge that Sgt. Rosenberg was here and wished to speak with him. The Guard went in with the message, and soon heard the Sgt. yell, "get him in here!" Once inside the Ranger compound, he never returned to the 'front'.
Now Paul begins being 'Doc Rosie'. He was 'different' didn't smoke, didn't drink, but he was saved when the Sgt learned he did 'like girls'. The Rangers worked in Teams. Paul, though their 'Doc', took his turn in a Team too. This ment they did not bathe for a week, did not brush their teeth or shave for a week before they went out behind the lines. Any soap, shaving cream or lotion even tooth paste could be smelt a long distance if it had been used. Secreted behind enemy lines ment every care need be taken to assure they were not detected. He said there were times when he was within 6 inches of passing Viet Cong and was not seen or heard. When they slept, the sat back to back in a circle with a 'claymore' (sp) mine secured at their feet. Boobie Traps were a constant threat and getting in and out was most dangerous. They never left a wounded or killed member of a team behind. Everything that went in with them had to come out. No trace was to be left.
The jungle made it impossible to Parachute in, so they repelled from Helicopters. The night before a drop, the area was completely sprayed with 'agent orange'. By morning there was not a shread of living growth below them. When they hit the ground running, it was like hitting 'potato chips' the dead foilage crumbled into a fine powder theyhad to ran through to make cover. Paul never talked much about his experiences while there, but I know there were times when he would allude to various things. On his Birthday in 2010 he had a visitor, a friend who brought him candy every year and spend some time visiting. On this, her last visit with him he told this story: "We had been out for a number of days and were in danger of being caught by the Viet Cong. We sent a message to base to have them come in and pick us up. There were 6 of them. The 'Chopper' that came was not able to hover low enough and was not sure they could get all 6 aboard in time. The Team Leader of course was the first to grab the 'ladder' that was lowered, he had to climb as fast as he could, with the ladder swinging from the movement of the man, plus the wind of the 'chopper blades' making it difficult to grab hold and begin the climb. Each man had to deal with the problem. Paul, being the lowest man on the Team was of course last to 'hopefully' grab and climb. By then there were at least 4 others ahead of him causing their own swaying to what the 'chopper' was making. There wasn't time to think, just 'do'. When he was finally able to get grip on the ladder, he had to deal with the weight of his pack, ammunition belt, medical supplies, and automatic rifle, which was free swinging at times. Once you got a hold, you tried to control your hold, get your feet to moving and get up to the 'chopper' door as quickly as possible, with a man ahead of you who was trying to manage with a man ahead of him. Sounds comical in the telling, but it was far from comical to the 6 guys doing it. Once the first man got into the 'chopper' he would grab a beer out of the tub provided and light a ciragrett. Each man in turn doing the same thing, I might add they were shaking hard while they did this. Paul went on to say he was fighting to keep a hold and maintain some kind of composure as he struggled to make each rung of that ladder. When after much hard work, and nearly freezing as he fought the chill of the wind that whipped him around as well, he finally made it to the door. Someone pulled him in. By now he was shaking so hard and his teeth were chattering, rather a pitiful sight he imagined. He reached into the tub, grabbed a beer and took a stiff drink, then he lit a cigarett and began to puff heartly. The rest of the team just stared at him. One finally said: "Doc, we didn't think you drank or smoked?" To which Paul shaking and stuttering said: " I - I - I - don - don - don't." Amazing what fright, cold and danger will cause us to do huh? It was funny in the telling and hearing, but afterward I had time to reflect on the fact; Paul was having a panic attack from what he had just experienced. How many others he had to suffered during those long 18 months? Only he knew and further suffered from the 're-call' that apparently over took him on occasion. No wonder they say: "war is hell".
Well, Paul said when they returned they were left to themselves for some time to 'come down' from their time 'out', then they had to go over the entire time again with their commanding officer and give all the information they had gleaned. Each man would then bathe and put on clean clothes get something hot to eat and spend time in the 'houch' coming 'down'.
Paul was the stable influence in the Unit. When the others would go out on 'liberty' they would bring their cash to Paul and ask him to keep it so they wouldn't blow it all while they were drunk. He was safe. No matter how much they would threaten, or beg, he would not let them have their money until they were back in the 'compound' and sober.
He was the last 'Medic' to leave Vietnam. All the medical supplies and equipment were brought to where he was. He said he had one of the finest dispensaries he had ever seen. He could do just about anything he might have been call on to do, surgery included. When it was time to leave the Country, he was ordered to destroy it all. This he did by setting fire to the Unit. Broke his heart. In following those orders he nearly missed the last plane to leave Vietnam. He had to run for it and barely made the door before they took off.
Upon arriving back into the States, he later learned, he was to have been sent for debreifing, but the order was overlooked, and he was sent home. PTSD was more pronounced with these Veterans than most because they were flown to their area of operation and then when finished were flown home. In the Second World War the Veterans were sent home on Troup Ships where they had time to talk with others and help them deal somewhat with the things they had seen and done. Not so with Paul and the others who served with him. Carrying such memories was such a burden that problems developed. In Pauls case he had an additional burden. He had just returned from two years of teaching and preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Nothing he had done in those two years in any way was like what his Military Training and time in Vietnam put him through. His problem was not able to be helped by any with all the time the learned men and women at Palo Alto had. They told him: "if you were in an out of jail, using drugs, beating your wife, then we would know what to do for you, but you seem to be having trouble with relating to your religous background, and we know nothing about that!" So Paul had to work it out for himself. Did he? I think he did, to a point. His feeling of guilt and unworthiness was dropped enough that he could go back to Church, through friends, he was able to find a place of acceptance. He was able to bear his testimony and take part in lessons. He was generous in his contributions to the Boy Scouts and Young Womens programs. He found acceptance and love from those he admired. Paul was upset that his health kept him from attending Church as he would have liked, but his faithfulness in prayers was great.
Paul loved his family. A great sorrow of course that he never had any children of his own, but he was quick to enjoy those of his family and the youth he admired in the Ward. He mentioned on a number of occasions he would like to have had some one named after him as he never was able to carry on the Rosenberg name himself. I have always felt Paul was well named. Of course I remember it was because his Dads' best friend was named Paul, but I like to think now that our Paul followed along the same lines as Paul the Apostle. He was weak for a time, and then he found himself and became strong and valiant in the things he knew to be correct. He could not do all he would have wished, but I am convinced when he had proved himself in the end, he was called forth to carry on the Mission he was destined to fulfill. Had he lacked in mortality, he is now struggling to fulfill in eternity. I believe he will achieve yet those things he so longed for in this life. A worthy wife and children that together they may raise to fulfill his fondest dreams.
Written this 9th day of March 2011
by: Eileen Rosenberg
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