I tried to do what I could with my limited resources and skills. The grenade was fortunately a Chinese grenade. They are in a wooden case unlike American grenades that are in a metal case that rips you apart. Even so, he was in bad shape with lots of blood everywhere. His face was badly torn. One ear was barely hanging on. After a little praying I began to do what I could. I took ordinary straight needle and thread and began to sew up his the worst cuts. He didn't utter a word as I stitched and stitched flesh back together. I got our first aid kit and bandaged him the best I could. I spent perhaps three hours patching him up. I gave him aspirin and a shot of penicillin. I told the family I would come the next day to check on him.

The next day all his bandages were blood soaked and I changed them all. The same thing happened the next day. I could not stop the bleeding. I told them he was not to move for 24 hours. When I came the next day most of the wounds had stopped bleeding. He got better and better and finally fully recovered. The family and I became great friends and they often invited me to dinner. I would bring food to share with them. But I was hooked. After that people from all around would come to me for medical attention. It was sad to not be able to help everyone but satisfying when I could help some.