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I brought along 2 pieces of PVC plastic pipe, one several inches in diameter and wrapped with tight rope for strength (which I found to be an effective mortar, given 1 M-80 and a soup can), the other pipe was capped and was 1 - 1 1/2 in diameter.

Someone broke the stick off one of the Mexican-supplied large exploding skyrockets, and was using this as a makeshift bazooka... Someone had apparently decided that the time had come to test the accuracy of this setup and directed the business end towards a tent at a campsite 50-65 yards away. The skyrocket promptly entered the tent & exploded, blowing it to pieces.)

At any rate, after a day of playing with this, it was becoming dark. We ran out of these fireworks and bought more. It so happened that THIS batch of firew orks was defective...

To this day I don't know what I did to get on Gods good side (and to this day I OWE HIM *BIG* FOR THIS!!!) but I did not use the pipe as a bazooka, but as a mortar, holding it with my right hand, when it exploded. I was between this bomb and everyone else, so consequently I took the brunt of the blast.

The first reaction I had was the noise of the explosion - I instintively put my hands to my ears. I remembered that I was holding the damn thing with my right hand, so I wiggled my fingers. It was dark so no direct light was shining on them, but I was relieved that I saw four things obstructing the stars.

I stumbled up to the fire and asked for a beer. When it was handed to me the guy simply remarked "your leaking" - up to this point I didn't feel any pain.

(Editor's Note: Immediate reaction seems to be the same in most cases: no pain is felt right away. It's only after some significant period of time that awareness and pain start.)

What I saw happened to me I only had previously seen watching real footage of WWII-Vietnam horrors!!!

My arm was perforated with the shards of the PCP plastic pipe - the plastic quite literally BLEW RED CRATERS into my arm. My small ring finger was blow half away. But my biggest shock was when I looked down at my shirt and it was SHREDDED and getting sticky with blood!

And I didn't feel any of this. Nothing. Total Body Shock after being shot with, for all intents, a shotgun!!! >(Editor's note: Similar reports from other people who have suffered similar wounds are numerous. One can read casualty reports from Vietnam that described essentially the same circumstance with grenade fragments, and no doubt big-city EMT's can tell of cases they have seen.)

The Mexican ambulance driver (a familiar, if not ominous, site at Rocky Point) flipped out when he got a look at me....

They decided that the most massive injuries were just below my ribcage. A large piece of plastic perforated the lining of my stomach, resting at/around the membrane which acts as a sac for my intestines (this was extremely difficult ...They were convinced that I needed to be driven to Mexico city, and I was convinced that I was going to probably die on the four-hour trip, so I told them to get to work NOW.

The tetanus shot was beginning to be felt, whereas before they doused my wounds in alcohol it felt good (I felt the evaporation!) - NOT A GOOD SIGN... To get at that large piece he had to enlarge the incision 3-4 inches and he stuck his two fingers inside my stomach. I could feel no pain, but I could feel his fingers wiggling inside, and I could feel a slight resistance somewhat like pulling a sticker out of your finger, occuring. That piece of plastic mangled my insides so good it took 2 hrs, 2 surgeons, and 3-4 locals to get it out. They finally did & put in subcutaneous as well as muscle stiches (40-60 in all).

Unfortunately (as if this isn't bad enough) they told [me] that they used too much local, and if they used any more, that it could stop my heart. Maybe they could use one more. So I told them to work swiftly and do my chest region, use a local on my finger (which by now a nurse was holding it together, and I was beginning to feel pain), and work up my arm. They got to my finger just as I was losing my composure (ok, I was screaming in pain -ever got stitches using a turkey baster & no ananesthesia? Not pleasant. Period.), shot me up with the last local, and went to work.

At this point I was sitting at around 90 stitches, major pain, even the pain in my butt where I got the tetanus shot - damn that hurt!

(All the while misc. orderlies/nurses were picking at the craters in my arm. Occasionally they would hit paydirt - a white bloodstained plastic piece would go into a piece of gauze. The gauze was already overflowing with perhaps 15-20 plastic pieces.)

I started screaming again, halfway through my hand. They were visibly disturbed at my distress now (4 hrs into this) and asked... ..one (or more) of my friends to calm me/hold me down. This to me was the worst part of the whole ordeal; the look of my friends when they came into that room. They had heard my screams OUTSIDE of the hospital, and knew it was me. Hellofa thing to do to your friends...

(Editor's Note: Even after 4 hours, he was still aware enough to react to his **friends'** discomfort!)

An incredibly brave girlfriend of one of my friends held my head and patted my forehead. She warned me when they were gearing up for another set of stitches, and held my (other) hand while another buddy held my shoulders down. I will to this day curse the hospital for not putting me under for this, but I wanted to be awake & aware for all this.

Mexican hospitals have inadequate materials (like needles the size of hatpins), but I survived the ordeal with a little shy of 115 stitches, most of which were put in 2-3 at a time per wound. This is what it would be like to be shot with a shotgun (but don't be in Mexico!)

Later, an American doctor admired the TECHNIQUE of the stitches- he felt that they were some of the best, if not the best, stitches he's ever seen... I was on pain pills/anti-infection stuff for 2 weeks. I still draw a crowd whenever I lift my shirt...