Our Marines were right there in those battles and it was rough. Part of what Vaughn had to do was experience running firefights lasting three to four hours dealing with insurgents who were operating from rudimentary – but effective – tunnels and underground bunkers. I was just doing what I had to do,” stated Vaughn. I don’t think what I did was anything special. We lost a lot of Marines and the wounded were too many to count. “Everyone was wounded to some degree in Fallujah, physically as well as mentally and emotionally. Upon returning to Camp Pendleton from deployment, Vaughn’s chain of command took exception to his own assessment and he was presented with the Purple Heart. Several weeks after I was asked about the injury and I said it was really nothing,” related Vaughn. I chalked it up to prayer that there was no gaping wound. To this day I have a hard time telling this, but it really was amazing that it wasn’t worse. My Marines were on the radio all saying, ‘Doc Vaughn has been hit!’ But after I looked at myself, I thought it really wasn’t that bad. I remember I could feel blood seeping down inside my uniform top. “When the explosion went off, it felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to my left shoulder.

Vaughn then finally took a moment to examine himself. We weren’t too far from that unit,” Vaughn said.

I then cleaned up the leg injury of my Marine and got him off to a Surgical Shock Trauma Platoon. “We got out of the courtyard, around the corner, and dropped off the prisoners. There was still the responsibility to deliver the insurgents to their designated staging area. Vaughn’s immediate attention centered on his Marine who sustained an injury to his leg from the blast that tore into his pants and severely injured the limb. I didn’t let go of either the insurgent or my gear,” said Vaughn, currently assigned to Naval Hospital Bremerton Mental Health Department as a Substance Abuse Rehabilitation Program (SARP) counselor. A hidden projectile? An improvised explosive device? An RPG? All I know is that at that time I had a hold of the insurgent in my right hand and was carrying my medical kit and weapon in my left. I didn’t know what it was and, to this day, still don’t know what caused that blast. Vaughn and a Marine from his squad were each escorting an insurgent from a dwelling across a courtyard when suddenly their immediate world exploded in a sudden rush of searing shrapnel, concussive noise and hot air filled with swilling debris. It was a December 2004 day in Al Fallujah, Iraq, where Hospital Corpsman 1st Class Richard Vaughn was concentrating on an insurgent prisoner and about to become one such recipient of one such rarity.Īssigned to 1st Marine Division, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine with Kilo Company, 2nd Platoon, 3rd Squadron, Vaughn, then a hospitalman, was involved in Operation Phantom Fury, a two month battle fought in the ravaged cityscape of Fallujah against a determined enemy. The following trio of NHB Purple Heart recipients were acknowledged for their valor when battered and bruised, but not beaten. With August 7 annually designated as Purple Heart Recognition Day, the ranks of Naval Hospital Bremerton (NHB) over the years have included more than a few staff members who have been presented the medal in the line of duty. It is America’s oldest military award and distinctive in its rarity.

Bremerton beat blast