Vietnam amputee tells two stories of war: the lengths of helping fellow soliders
Larry Weight, who served in the Army and was injured in the Vietnam War, poses for a photo on Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2015 at his home in Provo. SPENSER HEAPS, Daily Herald
A scrapbook contains the letter sent home to inform family members that Larry Weight had been wounded in Vietnam, seen on Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2015 at his home in Provo. SPENSER HEAPS, Daily Herald
Larry Weight, who served in the Army and was injured in the Vietnam War, poses for a photo on Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2015 at his home in Provo. SPENSER HEAPS, Daily Herald
Larry Weight, who served in the Army and was injured in the Vietnam War, poses for a photo on Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2015 at his home in Provo. SPENSER HEAPS, Daily Herald
Larry Weight, who served in the Army and was injured in the Vietnam War, poses for a photo on Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2015 at his home in Provo. SPENSER HEAPS, Daily Herald
On March 3, 1968 and after a mere 104 days in Vietnam, Provo resident Sgt. Larry Weight was blown into the air after a homemade mine was detonated by a Vietnamese soldier watching in the jungle.
The guy in front of him got shrapnel in his thighs. The guy behind him was killed instantly.
As for Weight, his left foot was blown off at the top of his boot. His right leg was mangled from the hip down; it would later be amputated. His right arm was injured, and both eardrums were perforated and bleeding.
Weight was flown to a field hospital where he was immediately operated on. After being flown to several other hospitals, on March 10, 1968 he finally arrived at Fitzsimons Army Hospital in Aurora, Colorado. Twenty-nine months and 24 additional surgeries later, he was released on August 11, 1970.
According to Weight, he was drafted to the Vietnam War just after completing his junior year at Brigham Young University. Though his dad supported his decision to serve, his mother said she had a friend in Canada and Weight would be welcome to live there.
Weight said he declined the offer because he believed in his country.
He described how his grandfathers and uncles had served in either the First or Second World War, “so that was kind of expected of you.”
While in Vietnam, Weight served in the 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile). As a member of this division, Weight was helicoptered in wherever any unit had encountered the enemy and had wounded or dead soldiers. Weight’s division would engage the enemy and reinforce the people who were trapped. When the area was secured, the medevacs would come in and lift off those who were wounded or dead.
Weight had many colorful stories to tell of his experience in Vietnam (such as the time he encountered a tiger), and many stories he could’ve told as a result of his lifelong injuries. His wife Karin said he’s full of metal fragments that are still leaving his body nearly 50 years later. However, in telling the story of Vietnam, Weight told the experience of two men who were willing to go to great lengths to help their fellow soldiers.
“I’d like to give two examples of defining the war, and two different soldiers representing two different countries,” he said.
Weight remembered one morning with a beautiful blue sky.
This particular morning, the guys were just getting ready to move out when they saw a North Vietnamese man coming down the trail, carrying a huge pack and an AK-47.
“The two guys that were with me spotted him, and raised and fired,” said Weight. He continued, “It appeared to hit him because he spun around, dropped his pack and fell in some bushes.”
However, the man got up, picked up his pack and “started maneuvering through the jungle.”
Weight said he began to follow the man who, despite appearing to be laboring, wasn’t going to leave his pack for anything.
“Then I could see a crack in the mountain and that he was headed for that crack,” Weight continued.
Weight told the other guys that were with him to hang back, and he’d call if he needed any assistance.
Weight watched as the man approached the crack in the mountain, where he could see there was a mounted machine gun. Weight decided to throw a grenade in there.
So, he took a grenade, hunkered down in a rocky place, pulled the pin and threw it in.
“All of a sudden the whole mountainside came down,” he said.
After calling the lieutenant, several others arrived and began to inspect the scene. Weight said there was a huge entrance leading into the mountain. He among a few others, volunteered to check it out.
“We went in and we could see light bulbs strung down the middle of this big cavern,” Weight recalled. He further described their findings: “There were little rooms off to the side, and in the back there was a lot of storage, a table, and lots of lights over this table.”
Upon exiting the mountain and reporting their findings to the lieutenant, they were told to come and look at the man’s pack.
“So we went over and he pulled the pack out,” said Weight.
Weight said it appeared to be a 10 pound package of rice flour, as it was white and very finely milled. The lieutenant dipped his finger into his mouth, touched the substance, and tasted it.
“He said, ‘Check that out, you’ll find out it’s not rice flour,'” said Weight.
“So I did, and wherever you touched it to your gum, the gum went numb instantly,” he added.
According to Weight, the substance turned out to be pure, refined opium.
“And then we looked at the facility we’d been in and we could see medical supplies and stuff,” he said. “We’d blown up a hospital basically,” he added in explanation.
In rummaging through the dead man’s pack, Weight said he found a picture of him, his wife, and two daughters who appeared to be ages 4 and 6.
“Beautiful people,” Weight said.
“I just couldn’t believe this fellow had sacrificed so much trying to get that medicine back to his fallen comrades,” said Weight.
Weight told of another, similar story, when a sister company had been severely ambushed and Weight’s team was called in to set up a perimeter and remove four wounded and two dead soldiers.
“So we set things up, finally got things stabilized, called in medevac, and they came in and picked up the two dead and then they loaded the three wounded,” Weight recalled.
“And then I looked at the sergeant and I said, ‘Sergeant, I was told there’s four wounded.'”
Weight said the sergeant replied, “There are.”
That’s when Weight looked down at the sergeant’s flak jacket and saw a hole, right below his diaphragm where he’d been shot.
When Weight asked him why he hadn’t just let the others do the work the sergeant said, “Those are my soldiers. And I have to bring them home.”
Weight’s voice caught and his eyes filled with tears as he remembered the incident. He added, “So that made quite an impact.”
Weight explained he wanted to tell those two stories because those two men — the fellow from North Vietnam and his sergeant from Puerto Rico — were willing to sacrifice so much to help their fellow soldiers.
“They’re not heroes, they’re just doing their job,” said Weight. He added, “And you met people like that all of the time.”