After a year, 16 of the 65 who survived Army Special Forces Medic training, one of the most demanding courses in the military, made it to the last day and the last test. Pass or fail, a student received five minutes and two attempts to open a patent intravenous line on another student. Failure meant he was out of the course on its last day.
I was class leader. One of my soldiers was so muscle-bound that no one had been able to find a vein in that mass in order to start an IV. Predictably, the two students who drew him as a patient failed the test—and the course.
I looked at their anguished faces. I turned and walked away. The standards were set.
“If you are wounded in battle,” went the rationale, “would you want second best working on you?”
Next morning at graduation formation, an instructor marched out. “Sergeant Sasser, have all your men line up at the OR. Everyone retests on the IV.”
I hurried to the Lab Officer-in-Charge, a captain.
“Retest the two who failed,” I offered. “They didn’t have a fair chance with the patient they drew. The others have already passed. It’s unfair to put them through it again.”
“Everyone retests,” he insisted.
Whenever there is a difference between an enlisted man and an officer, the officer is always right.
I came out of the OR. Every student eye focused on me.
“Sergeant Sasser, this is wrong,” my assistant protested angrily. “You have to do something.”
Obviously something desperate. Which would likely end my military career.
“Sergeant Mansell,” I ordered, “have the men form up in the street.”
I drew a deep breath and returned to the OR. “Captain, with any due respect, my men refuse to retest.”
“I’ll have you court martialed for disobeying a direct order. I’ll send you to Leavenworth.”
News of the revolt flashed all over Fort Bragg. I explained the situation to my soldiers, including possible consequences.
“But we must never compromise with injustice,” I stressed. “Each time we do, it becomes easier to compromise the next time. Soon, even the concept of right and wrong disappears.”
For hours in the North Carolina sun my Green Beret soldiers stood unmoving at parade rest, with myself positioned out front, resisting all threats to have us court martialed. Not a soldier moved.
High-ranking officers appeared. They seemed stunned that young enlisted men led by a grizzled sergeant dared question the authority of an officer because of principle.
The captain folded first. He came outside about noon. “Sergeant Sasser, have your men back here at 1300 hours. Everyone graduates.”
This incident during which a class of enlisted students took on the entire leadership of Fort Bragg is still remembered and talked about years later as “The Goat Lab Revolt.” Now retired from the military, I still receive mail from my students who were there that day, and from other Green Berets who have heard the story.
One of the more recent came from student John Cain, who is now a minister.
“You affected a lot of lives that day,” he wrote, “when you inspired us to stand up to the brass. That was a classic 24 hours. I still respect you for that to this day.”
I replied, “I was so proud of you guys who had the guts to stand up for what was right. You guys were the real stars, and I’ll never forget that there are Americans who still believe in doing what is right, even when it’s not always convenient.”
Marine BLT 2/3 was in the middle of a firefight its second day in-country in Vietnam when the unit was jerked out and sent to a place called Khe Sanh—which became the most savage fight of the Vietnam War. Blood In The Hills by Robert Maras and Charles W. Sasser is Maras’ personal account of that fight. It is available at most book stores and on-line.
I remember this from years ago… EVERYBODY was talking about it, and waiting to see what would happen… we heard all kinds of comments and opinions on it.. but no one seemed to know the whole story at the time… at least not most of us… I imagine the higher level brass knew… but they weren’t talking… from our viewpoint.. and from what we did hear of it.. if the SF med students were involved in a mutiny… there HAD to be a reason for it… and now I know… “the rest of the story!” Decades later… thanks Charles! and THAT is… true leadership. Glad it turned out OK for all concerned. Many times it doesn’t… as we all know.
Hey, Will. It was an interesting day. I went on to serve 29 years in military, 13 of those in SF, including Desert Storm. God bless you for your service. chuck sasser
Thanks, Chuck. It appears your words on compromising an injustice have become prophetic in Washington.
Hey, Phil. Ain’t it ever so. We were all a different breed back 35 years or so ago. God bless. chuck sasser
Great story! When did this happen?
Hey, Chip. I began the course at Ft. Sam in 1980–so this must have been early 1981. I could look up my 201 and get the exact date. You were SF during that period?
chuck sasser
Thanks, James D Jordan
Hey, James. Thank you, my friend. chucksasser
“To feed men and not to love them is to treat them as if they were barnyard cattle. To love them and not respect them is to treat them as if they were household pets.” -Mencius, philosopher (c. 380-289 BCE)
Still happening after 2,300 years—you’d think they would stress this at West Point.
A great quote, Jim. You, my friend, are a true philosopher. LIke you, I’ve also known a lot of good officers as well. I’m sure this captain in charge of Med Lab at the time will probably never forget the incident either.
chuck sasser
Glad you and your men stood firm! Now if we could teach that to all
Thank you so much, Sally. A couple of the responses (see above) are from people who remember the incident. I hope you’re doing well. God bless.
chuck sasser
Class 2-81…..Best training of my life…I loved 300f1….Great story DOL
Robert. You were in 2-81. We were going through Med Lab at about the same time then? Yes, indeed, it was great training. But tht’s how I felt about SF all the way through.
Chuck sasser
As a prelude, you have to know that about six months before, our class created a flap by harassing a pizza delivery guy and getting the MP’s called to the barracks at Ft Sam Houston, TX. The next day, SFC Sadder chewed is our, and told us that “The deadliest guy on a SWAT team is the sniper, and he doesn’t talk trash, hell just kill you at 800 yards without batting an eye.”. We all shut up. So when he stood in front of us in April, 1981, with years in his eyes, and said, “Men, I’ve been in Special Forces for years, and it’s about honesty and fairness, and this isn’t honest and it’s not fair,” we were with him all the way. Right after that was when the senior instructor, MSG Meader, came out and SFC Sasser told him we weren’t going to retest. The MSG looked like he’d been hit by a bullet. It was great. I will never forget what SFC Sasser taught us this day.
I really like that story and standing up to an over bearing egotist. I have worked for several like that through the years, most new MBA’s. I always resisted the changes they wanted to make because some professor that never had a public job told them how to do business. On another issue, with all the news in the press (at least in Tulsa area) on the passing of 40 years since the Girl Scout Murders, and all the other books out of print, that they might let you re publish the book they had you recall. I would really like to be able to read your take on the event, as I am sure it would be more in depth and meaningful than what was out there.
Hey, Joe. Long time ago, hasn’t it been. I’m sure you remember too. Walt Milner, one of the victim’s dad, Doris Milner, was my partner on TPD when I worked TAC/SWAT. Pete Weaver was a long-time friend–and the goofy media tried to portray him as some hick cop–which he certainly wasn’t. We all knew who killed those girls–and DNA and other evidence is beginning to prove it. I call that the beginning of the insanity that we now see common in our society and in our culture–Call it Ferguson before Ferguson was Ferguson.Thanks, Joe. I hope you’re well.
chuck sasser