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| An unknown Soldier, not the man mentioned in this article. |
I wanted to tell a story
about one of the bravest men I have ever met. I say one of the bravest only
because the bravest men that I have met was easily my Father-in-law, who was a
combat veteran in the Vietnam War, and recently succumbed to a service related
medical condition, and made the ultimate sacrifice. I may tell you all more
about him at another time.
This man that I wanted to
tell you about today, I met shortly after I was injured in the service. My
injury was nothing compared to this Soldier’s injury, so I will not go into
detail about mine. But it did require me to attend five months of occupational
therapy. During those therapy sessions three times a week, I met the some of
the bravest, most honorable men that I have ever known. It was an honor for me
to even be in the same room as them.
This was back in 2006, and
there were many Soldiers and Marines coming home from Iraq because of
injuries. One day, the nurse seated me at a table with another man. The table
was “U” shaped and capable of seating four patients, with the therapist sitting
in the middle of the “U” shape. It was not uncommon to have at least two people
at each table.
As I sat, I noticed the man’s
scars. They were the kind that made you recoil inside when you imagined the
pain he must be in. Fresh, angry, red scars across his left hand and up his
sleeve. He was a Soldier and was a little bit older than most Soldiers. I would
say he was around 35 years old, but I may be wrong, because the Military has a
way of aging people beyond their years.
The Soldier had his jaw
clenched and nodded his head to acknowledge me and then continued on with his
therapy with intense focus and determination. Everything the therapist told him
to do, he went much farther than he was required to. You could tell he was
really pushing himself.
A few minutes later, his
session ended and he quietly left in a cold sweat, saying that he would
continue his therapy at home. She told him to slow down and take it easy,
knowing full well that he would not.
After he left, she saw the
concern and questions in my eyes. Then she told me that although she was not
supposed to discuss patients with anyone, this man’s story was too honorable to
not be told. So she began to tell me what she had learned about him over the
last month of intense therapy that he had pushed himself through.
The Soldier was on his fourth
combat tour in Iraq
when he was ambushed. He was shot several times. Once through the thigh, once
through the shoulder, once through his left hand, once across his left forearm,
and several times to the ballistic vest that saved his life. Fortunately, none
of the bullets hit bone, except the one that hit his left hand. The hand
skimmed across the back of his knuckles, taking fragments of bone with it.
The therapist said that given
his age and condition, he was offered a medical retirement but refused it. He
was one of her most determined patients. The man pushed himself harder and
faster than any of her other patients, even though his pain levels were
dangerously higher than most people could handle. He refused to take narcotic
strength pain pills, saying that they messed with his head.
One day she asked him why he
was pushing himself the way that he was. He gave her a look that suggested that
the answer was simple and stated that while he was “sitting there on his butt”
his brothers were still in Iraq
getting shot at every day. His only goal was to get better quick enough to get
back to Iraq
and rejoin his squad.
I am telling this story
because I am sure it is quite typical. I have heard many more like it, and over
the years met some incredible war heroes while at appointments at various V.A.
Hospitals. I am careful not to group myself with these men. Yes, my injury was
service related, yes I am not a disabled Veteran, and yes, I have been in war
zones on more than one occasion, but I have never been fired upon. I was in the
Navy, and we did fire missiles into Baghdad,
so we were classified as being in combat, but I do not consider myself a combat
Veteran.
I have the utmost level of
respect for these men and women that risk their lives every single day for
months on end. They don’t do it for the fame, because they are barely
recognized in our society. They don’t do it for the money, because what we pay
them in laughable compared to what they go through. They do it out of a level
of Honor, Courage, and Commitment that most civilians cannot even begin to
imagine.
In the last few years, the
Military has been cast in a bad light by many agenda-driven politicians and
reporters. Recently, a Soldier allegedly killed sixteen civilians in Afghanistan,
including women and children. I say allegedly, because he has not yet been
convicted. The loss of innocent lives saddens me, but I personally do not think
the Soldier was 100% to blame for the incident.
He was on his fourth combat
tour. He had recently been inured by an IED (improvised explosive device) and
suffered from a TBI (traumatic brain injury). Some of his comrades believe that
he had been prematurely declared fit for full duty following his injuries.
The fact is that we do not
know what this Soldier was going through or what he saw. He could have been
suffering from PTSD, he could have been having flashbacks at the time, and he
could have very well thought that he was engaging the enemy. We simply do not
know.
I have seen first-hand what
combat stress can do to a man. Three decades after serving in Vietnam, my
Father-in-law would still suffer from nightmares and flashbacks. I remember one
time that I woke him from a nap and he grabbed me by the throat, thinking that
I was the enemy.
These men and woman deserve
far more credit and respect that what they receive. Please remember this the
next time you see a Combat Veteran. No matter what they look like, or how they
are dressed, they deserve the highest level of respect in our society.
God bless our Troops.
