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4th Infantry Division
1st Battalion, 12th Infantry Regiment
CASUALTY REPORT
-- Personal --
| Last Name: | Tilleman |
| First Name: | Paul |
| Middle Name: | Robert |
| Home of Record (official): | Camdenton |
| State (official): | MO |
| Date of Birth: | Friday, 26 May 1950 |
| Sex: | Male |
| Race: | Caucasian |
| Marital Status: | Single |
-- Military --
| Branch: | Army |
| Rank: | Private First Class |
| Serial Number: | 68001023 |
| Component: | Regular |
| Pay grade: | E-3 |
| MOS: | 91A20 (Medic) |
| Awards: | Unknown |
| Unit: | Headquarters & Headquarters Company, (served with Delta Company) |
-- Action --
| Start of Tour: | Wednesday, 23 April 1969 |
| Date of Casualty: | Thursday, 5 June 1969 |
| Age at time of loss: | 19 |
| Casualty type: | (A1) Hostile, died |
| Reason: | Gun, small arms fire (Ground casualty) |
| Country: | South Vietnam |
| Province: | Kontum |
| Location: | ZA 148768 |
| Operation: | Putnam Tiger |
| The Wall: | Panel 23W - Row 079 |
The following account regarding the loss and recovery of an unidentified Charlie Company medic is provided by Sergeant Jim Daniels, a former member of Charlie Company’s 2nd platoon, and one of the individuals who helped recover the medic’s remains on the 6th of June 1969. The 2nd platoon’s 1st squad, of which Sergeant Daniels was a member, had been designated on the morning of the 6th to conduct a sweep south of the company perimeter in the area the medic had been last seen the evening before.
Daniels begins, “We were told that one of the company medics was missing and that we should be on the lookout for him. The medic had been last seen on the evening of the 5th going back into the bush to retrieve his rifle after helping the company wounded. While we were conducting our sweep, we were to watch for him.”
“The squad was very cautious and was moving to the south at a snail’s pace into a wooded area about 175 meters outside the perimeter. Overhead a small light observation helicopter came into view. I was told it was ‘Higher-Higher,’ the battalion commander. In his chopper, he quickly swept the area for us. Over the radio came word that the commander had spotted a GI. I recall thinking, ‘It’s probably the medic and I bet he’s scared.’ I also imagined how happy he would be to see us. We started to make our way through the trees toward the sound of the hovering chopper.”
“The wooded area we were in suddenly cleared into a small field of five-foot tall elephant grass. The chopper was hovering directly above us, and a man in the rear was leaning out and pointing to our right. We waved back that we understood. The thick grass was giving us some visibility troubles, so we spread out and moved in the direction he was pointing. A guy on my right suddenly yelled, ‘Over here!’ Only about eight feet away, I ran over to him and stopped in surprise. It had never crossed my mind that the medic might be dead. I had thought he was just lost, or hiding until it was safe to come out.”
“Soon the entire squad had gathered around the medic. A small crater at his feet made it clear that during the night our own artillery had hit him. He had wandered in a large circle in the dark, apparently becoming lost in the tall grass. He was less than a hundred meters away from the tattered Delta Company perimeter. The blast that killed him had blown his pants and part of his shirt off. He lay on his back staring into the sky, In his right hand he clutched his rifle, his finger on the trigger. Brass shells lay on the grass around him. He must have squeezed his trigger as the blast hit him, and all 20 rounds were fired. He had already turned waxy-death-yellow, and again the same recognizable smell hovered over his body.”
“Someone picked up his medical bag that lay just a few feet away. It was unscathed. SP4 Dilts came over to me and said that the poor guy had been scheduled to leave the field the week before, but had to stay due to the company being in such bad shape and short of medics.”
“A couple of guys found two small saplings and cut them for poles. From another squad, four guys came with an extra poncho, which we made into a stretcher. Someone eventually rolled him onto the stretcher, but the poles didn’t work when they tried to lift him. He had died with his arms and legs outstretched, and now his stiff body would not fit on the makeshift stretcher. Abandoning the poles, they rolled him on top of the poncho and carried him awkwardly by its corners. Eventually, we got the medic back to the perimeter and placed him on the ground next to the other fallen men.”