Vietnam veteran. Severely wounded on Hill 881 North on April 30, 1967.
Featured in the book 'The Hill Fights' by Edward Murphy. In it, he writes:
'Second Lieutenant Clifton Canter, a twenty three year old Floridian commanding the Weapons Platoon, had voluntarily accompanied the 3d Platoon on its foray to the right. With all his troops parceled out to the rifle platoons, he had no one left to command. A hard charger who had previously led the 1st Platoon and served a short stint as the company exec, Canter was not content to remain behind with the CP group, so he tagged along with Eller's platoon.
The 3d Platoon easily ascended the ridge finger and turned left, preparing to follow the finger to where it joined the intermediate objective. A burst of M16 fire punctured the morning quiet. Eller's point fire team had spotted NVA on the high ground to the right. Answering bursts of enemy fire splattered across the finger and sent the Marines sprawling.
Canter hugged the dirt, fervently wishing that he had something more than grass stalks to hide behind. When he learned that several wounded from the lead squad needed immediate medical attention, Canter looked around for Eller, but he could not see him. Although it was not his platoon, Canter knew that something had to be done. He pulled his lanky six foot four frame off the ground and dashed forward.
He found several wounded sprawled in the dirt and, under fire, quickly organized their evacuation. Then he gathered a handful of Marines and attacked a brush line in which he though the enemy was hiding. Fortunately, they were not.
When he spotted another wounded Marine, Canter ran over and knelt beside him. The man had taken a round through both ankles. Canter turned him over to check for other wounds. A split second later, two enemy rounds hit the dirt where the casualty's chest had lain. The NVA were not giving up.
In rolling over, the man's canteen had gotten underneath him and slightly raised him off the ground. "I'm too high," he screamed. "Let me down. Let me down."
"Four inches higher didn't seem like it would make much difference," Canter recalled, "but then two more rounds passed right between us and one took off the front pocket button of his utilities. I pulled his web belt off and got the canteen out from under him. He calmed down." '
Later he adds:
"In the meantime, Lieutenant Canter picked up a casualty's M16. He squeezed off several bursts before an AK-47 round slammed into his right arm just above the wrist. The bullet traveled up his arm, tearing away a huge chunk of flesh as it exited his forearm in a spray of blood.
A corpsman appeared as if by magic and put a field dressing on the shattered limb. Canter moved back down the finger. He did not get far. The NVA had him in their sights and shot him again. This slug shattered a Japanese camera he carried in his utility shirt's front pocket, then slammed into his right hand. The impact spun him around and knocked him down.
The same corpsman came upon him again and treated Canter a second time. While he did, an NVA took aim at him. The NVA missed the sailor but hit Canter.
"The round meant for the doc hit dead center in my right butt cheek," Canter remembered. "It smashed my hip, traveled through the inside of my leg down to the knee, but didn't exit. It damaged my sciatic nerve and paralyzed my right leg. It hurt like hell. The corpsman ripped open my utilities, checked the entrance wound, then bandaged my hand. I guess he didn't know how bad my leg was."
"After he left I lay there thinking I was the last one left alive on the hill. I had no weapon. I figured if the enemy came I'd use my last grenade to blow us all up."
While he lay there finalizing his death plans, two young Marines suddenly appeared at his side. They had been looking for him and were elated to find him. Because of Canter's size, the two had a hard time getting him to the LZ, but they managed. Someone gave him a shot of morphine. id did not dull al the pain, but at least he knew he would live. Soon a CH-46 came in; he was loaded aboard and was gone, entering the pipeline that carried the wounded from the battlefield to the hospital.'
He concludes the book with a short biography of the men involved:
'Clifton H. Canter was medically retired as a captain in August 1969. He returned to his Florida home, earned a master's degree, became a certified public accountant, then organized and operated two lead fabrication companies. He was married with four daughters when he was killed in the crash of his ultralight aircraft on 7 July 2001.'
Featured in the book 'The Hill Fights' by Edward Murphy. In it, he writes:
'Second Lieutenant Clifton Canter, a twenty three year old Floridian commanding the Weapons Platoon, had voluntarily accompanied the 3d Platoon on its foray to the right. With all his troops parceled out to the rifle platoons, he had no one left to command. A hard charger who had previously led the 1st Platoon and served a short stint as the company exec, Canter was not content to remain behind with the CP group, so he tagged along with Eller's platoon.
The 3d Platoon easily ascended the ridge finger and turned left, preparing to follow the finger to where it joined the intermediate objective. A burst of M16 fire punctured the morning quiet. Eller's point fire team had spotted NVA on the high ground to the right. Answering bursts of enemy fire splattered across the finger and sent the Marines sprawling.
Canter hugged the dirt, fervently wishing that he had something more than grass stalks to hide behind. When he learned that several wounded from the lead squad needed immediate medical attention, Canter looked around for Eller, but he could not see him. Although it was not his platoon, Canter knew that something had to be done. He pulled his lanky six foot four frame off the ground and dashed forward.
He found several wounded sprawled in the dirt and, under fire, quickly organized their evacuation. Then he gathered a handful of Marines and attacked a brush line in which he though the enemy was hiding. Fortunately, they were not.
When he spotted another wounded Marine, Canter ran over and knelt beside him. The man had taken a round through both ankles. Canter turned him over to check for other wounds. A split second later, two enemy rounds hit the dirt where the casualty's chest had lain. The NVA were not giving up.
In rolling over, the man's canteen had gotten underneath him and slightly raised him off the ground. "I'm too high," he screamed. "Let me down. Let me down."
"Four inches higher didn't seem like it would make much difference," Canter recalled, "but then two more rounds passed right between us and one took off the front pocket button of his utilities. I pulled his web belt off and got the canteen out from under him. He calmed down." '
Later he adds:
"In the meantime, Lieutenant Canter picked up a casualty's M16. He squeezed off several bursts before an AK-47 round slammed into his right arm just above the wrist. The bullet traveled up his arm, tearing away a huge chunk of flesh as it exited his forearm in a spray of blood.
A corpsman appeared as if by magic and put a field dressing on the shattered limb. Canter moved back down the finger. He did not get far. The NVA had him in their sights and shot him again. This slug shattered a Japanese camera he carried in his utility shirt's front pocket, then slammed into his right hand. The impact spun him around and knocked him down.
The same corpsman came upon him again and treated Canter a second time. While he did, an NVA took aim at him. The NVA missed the sailor but hit Canter.
"The round meant for the doc hit dead center in my right butt cheek," Canter remembered. "It smashed my hip, traveled through the inside of my leg down to the knee, but didn't exit. It damaged my sciatic nerve and paralyzed my right leg. It hurt like hell. The corpsman ripped open my utilities, checked the entrance wound, then bandaged my hand. I guess he didn't know how bad my leg was."
"After he left I lay there thinking I was the last one left alive on the hill. I had no weapon. I figured if the enemy came I'd use my last grenade to blow us all up."
While he lay there finalizing his death plans, two young Marines suddenly appeared at his side. They had been looking for him and were elated to find him. Because of Canter's size, the two had a hard time getting him to the LZ, but they managed. Someone gave him a shot of morphine. id did not dull al the pain, but at least he knew he would live. Soon a CH-46 came in; he was loaded aboard and was gone, entering the pipeline that carried the wounded from the battlefield to the hospital.'
He concludes the book with a short biography of the men involved:
'Clifton H. Canter was medically retired as a captain in August 1969. He returned to his Florida home, earned a master's degree, became a certified public accountant, then organized and operated two lead fabrication companies. He was married with four daughters when he was killed in the crash of his ultralight aircraft on 7 July 2001.'
Vietnam veteran. Severely wounded on Hill 881 North on April 30, 1967.
Featured in the book 'The Hill Fights' by Edward Murphy. In it, he writes:
'Second Lieutenant Clifton Canter, a twenty three year old Floridian commanding the Weapons Platoon, had voluntarily accompanied the 3d Platoon on its foray to the right. With all his troops parceled out to the rifle platoons, he had no one left to command. A hard charger who had previously led the 1st Platoon and served a short stint as the company exec, Canter was not content to remain behind with the CP group, so he tagged along with Eller's platoon.
The 3d Platoon easily ascended the ridge finger and turned left, preparing to follow the finger to where it joined the intermediate objective. A burst of M16 fire punctured the morning quiet. Eller's point fire team had spotted NVA on the high ground to the right. Answering bursts of enemy fire splattered across the finger and sent the Marines sprawling.
Canter hugged the dirt, fervently wishing that he had something more than grass stalks to hide behind. When he learned that several wounded from the lead squad needed immediate medical attention, Canter looked around for Eller, but he could not see him. Although it was not his platoon, Canter knew that something had to be done. He pulled his lanky six foot four frame off the ground and dashed forward.
He found several wounded sprawled in the dirt and, under fire, quickly organized their evacuation. Then he gathered a handful of Marines and attacked a brush line in which he though the enemy was hiding. Fortunately, they were not.
When he spotted another wounded Marine, Canter ran over and knelt beside him. The man had taken a round through both ankles. Canter turned him over to check for other wounds. A split second later, two enemy rounds hit the dirt where the casualty's chest had lain. The NVA were not giving up.
In rolling over, the man's canteen had gotten underneath him and slightly raised him off the ground. "I'm too high," he screamed. "Let me down. Let me down."
"Four inches higher didn't seem like it would make much difference," Canter recalled, "but then two more rounds passed right between us and one took off the front pocket button of his utilities. I pulled his web belt off and got the canteen out from under him. He calmed down." '
Later he adds:
"In the meantime, Lieutenant Canter picked up a casualty's M16. He squeezed off several bursts before an AK-47 round slammed into his right arm just above the wrist. The bullet traveled up his arm, tearing away a huge chunk of flesh as it exited his forearm in a spray of blood.
A corpsman appeared as if by magic and put a field dressing on the shattered limb. Canter moved back down the finger. He did not get far. The NVA had him in their sights and shot him again. This slug shattered a Japanese camera he carried in his utility shirt's front pocket, then slammed into his right hand. The impact spun him around and knocked him down.
The same corpsman came upon him again and treated Canter a second time. While he did, an NVA took aim at him. The NVA missed the sailor but hit Canter.
"The round meant for the doc hit dead center in my right butt cheek," Canter remembered. "It smashed my hip, traveled through the inside of my leg down to the knee, but didn't exit. It damaged my sciatic nerve and paralyzed my right leg. It hurt like hell. The corpsman ripped open my utilities, checked the entrance wound, then bandaged my hand. I guess he didn't know how bad my leg was."
"After he left I lay there thinking I was the last one left alive on the hill. I had no weapon. I figured if the enemy came I'd use my last grenade to blow us all up."
While he lay there finalizing his death plans, two young Marines suddenly appeared at his side. They had been looking for him and were elated to find him. Because of Canter's size, the two had a hard time getting him to the LZ, but they managed. Someone gave him a shot of morphine. id did not dull al the pain, but at least he knew he would live. Soon a CH-46 came in; he was loaded aboard and was gone, entering the pipeline that carried the wounded from the battlefield to the hospital.'
He concludes the book with a short biography of the men involved:
'Clifton H. Canter was medically retired as a captain in August 1969. He returned to his Florida home, earned a master's degree, became a certified public accountant, then organized and operated two lead fabrication companies. He was married with four daughters when he was killed in the crash of his ultralight aircraft on 7 July 2001.'
Featured in the book 'The Hill Fights' by Edward Murphy. In it, he writes:
'Second Lieutenant Clifton Canter, a twenty three year old Floridian commanding the Weapons Platoon, had voluntarily accompanied the 3d Platoon on its foray to the right. With all his troops parceled out to the rifle platoons, he had no one left to command. A hard charger who had previously led the 1st Platoon and served a short stint as the company exec, Canter was not content to remain behind with the CP group, so he tagged along with Eller's platoon.
The 3d Platoon easily ascended the ridge finger and turned left, preparing to follow the finger to where it joined the intermediate objective. A burst of M16 fire punctured the morning quiet. Eller's point fire team had spotted NVA on the high ground to the right. Answering bursts of enemy fire splattered across the finger and sent the Marines sprawling.
Canter hugged the dirt, fervently wishing that he had something more than grass stalks to hide behind. When he learned that several wounded from the lead squad needed immediate medical attention, Canter looked around for Eller, but he could not see him. Although it was not his platoon, Canter knew that something had to be done. He pulled his lanky six foot four frame off the ground and dashed forward.
He found several wounded sprawled in the dirt and, under fire, quickly organized their evacuation. Then he gathered a handful of Marines and attacked a brush line in which he though the enemy was hiding. Fortunately, they were not.
When he spotted another wounded Marine, Canter ran over and knelt beside him. The man had taken a round through both ankles. Canter turned him over to check for other wounds. A split second later, two enemy rounds hit the dirt where the casualty's chest had lain. The NVA were not giving up.
In rolling over, the man's canteen had gotten underneath him and slightly raised him off the ground. "I'm too high," he screamed. "Let me down. Let me down."
"Four inches higher didn't seem like it would make much difference," Canter recalled, "but then two more rounds passed right between us and one took off the front pocket button of his utilities. I pulled his web belt off and got the canteen out from under him. He calmed down." '
Later he adds:
"In the meantime, Lieutenant Canter picked up a casualty's M16. He squeezed off several bursts before an AK-47 round slammed into his right arm just above the wrist. The bullet traveled up his arm, tearing away a huge chunk of flesh as it exited his forearm in a spray of blood.
A corpsman appeared as if by magic and put a field dressing on the shattered limb. Canter moved back down the finger. He did not get far. The NVA had him in their sights and shot him again. This slug shattered a Japanese camera he carried in his utility shirt's front pocket, then slammed into his right hand. The impact spun him around and knocked him down.
The same corpsman came upon him again and treated Canter a second time. While he did, an NVA took aim at him. The NVA missed the sailor but hit Canter.
"The round meant for the doc hit dead center in my right butt cheek," Canter remembered. "It smashed my hip, traveled through the inside of my leg down to the knee, but didn't exit. It damaged my sciatic nerve and paralyzed my right leg. It hurt like hell. The corpsman ripped open my utilities, checked the entrance wound, then bandaged my hand. I guess he didn't know how bad my leg was."
"After he left I lay there thinking I was the last one left alive on the hill. I had no weapon. I figured if the enemy came I'd use my last grenade to blow us all up."
While he lay there finalizing his death plans, two young Marines suddenly appeared at his side. They had been looking for him and were elated to find him. Because of Canter's size, the two had a hard time getting him to the LZ, but they managed. Someone gave him a shot of morphine. id did not dull al the pain, but at least he knew he would live. Soon a CH-46 came in; he was loaded aboard and was gone, entering the pipeline that carried the wounded from the battlefield to the hospital.'
He concludes the book with a short biography of the men involved:
'Clifton H. Canter was medically retired as a captain in August 1969. He returned to his Florida home, earned a master's degree, became a certified public accountant, then organized and operated two lead fabrication companies. He was married with four daughters when he was killed in the crash of his ultralight aircraft on 7 July 2001.'
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