Watching the birds try to land in the valley, Carter knew there could be trouble. The volume of enemy fire had increased, and one of the helicopters took off after receiving multiple hits.
Before the helicopters arrived, Carter had pulled security at the casualty collection point and helped the medics. It was strange, but the on-the-job training he had received while they were trapped on the ledge really helped. He handed them gauze and bandages. It was like being in an inner-city emergency room on a busy weekend night. They had set up a makeshift trauma center.
But what good was all that if the helicopters couldn’t land?
Carter watched another bird come in, trying to find a landing zone. It found one—but across the river.
That presented another set of problems. The only way to get across was to wade through the cold water with the stretchers. He was worried that the commandos would drop the wounded, which could aggravate their conditions. And he was concerned about the enemy fire. They were still shooting at the birds.
With Walding on a stretcher, Carter helped provide cover as they moved toward the helicopters. When they approached the river, he heard Walding’s voice.
“Please don’t drop me [in the water],” Walding said.
Inside, Carter was relieved. It was the first time Walding had said anything in a long time. He had gone into shock and was sleepy—not a good sign. Carter was worried that Walding would die before dust-off. Now he had hope. If, at this stage, Walding could remember that the river was cold, his mind was still working. He was trying to fight to stay alive.