I'm Jerry Warpehowski, the Forest County Veteran's Service Officer. I served in Vietnam in 1968 and '69, with the 2nd of the 12th Infantry 25th Division.

In early January of 1969, I was wounded twice in one day by small arms fire. About 2:30am the following morning, I woke up in the recovery room of the 25th Evac hospital. Through the fog of the anesthesia, I could hear a voice. As my mind cleared, I saw a smile, an Army nurse stood next to me asking how I was doing. I looked down. I still had a right arm. I couldn't feel it. It wouldn't move, but it was still there. I'm fine, I told her. Then she asked if there was anything she could get for me. Yes, a hamburger, a big, thick, juicy one.

As she left in search of my burger, I looked around the ward, about 30 beds, all full, just a part of the days casualties that went through the 25th Evac. Through the dim light I saw the stubs of half arms and legs neatly wrapped in white dressing, suspended over beds. Heads and chests all neatly wrapped with tubes going in and tubes going out. I was one of the luckier ones.

I got that burger. I hadn't seen her approach but when she spoke I could smell the burger. Looking up there it was again, that smile. That smile that said: "Your going to be all right soldier." In her eyes I could see the strain of too many 12-hour days, and too many kids with too many parts missing.

I was probably the old man on the ward. I was 21. She stayed with me and arranged things so that I could get used to feeding myself left-handed. It would be some months before I could get my right hand anywhere near my mouth. We talked as I ate. And she was cheerful and smiling all the while. I will never forget her smile.

The other nurse near the far end of the ward, there were only two of them, called her. A North Vietnamese patient was trying to tear out his tubes. I watched as the two nurses got him restrained and somehow overcame the language barrier and got him calmed down. Perhaps caring was larger than language. Perhaps it was larger than all of this. I drifted off to sleep.

The next day I was on a plane to Bien Hoa. And the day after that on my way to Okinawa, where I would spend the next four months in a hospital. I never forgot that nurse in 25th Evac hospital. Nor have I never forgiven myself for not saying thank you for the hamburger and the smile. To all the nurses who served in Vietnam, thank you, I love you all.