I really don't want to write this blog honestly................. been dreading since it came to my mind last week when I was reading a book. I guess because of this coming Monday is the 5 year marker and the truth is that it's still as painful as the day it happened. Not the physical pain, but the emotional pain has been more then I ever thought I could bear.
What I'm about to share with all of you some of you may have never heard me talk about this before and others may have heard just parts of the story. I'm going to take you down a very down this path so please just sit back and follow along as I navigate the story for you. It's Dec 19th 2006 and my CET (convoy escort team) along with 25 or so fuel tankers. I'm talking about the ones your see filling up gas stations. My truck was the scout truck meaning we were 3-400 meters in front of the lead truck for the convoy. Basically we're looking for I.E.D.s and any suspicious activity that could pose a threat to security of the rest of the convoy. So at this stage in our mission we've left one base to return to our home base and we'd probably been on the road for maybe 2 hours, but I'd say about 1 1/2 hours. That's when our world got turned upside down. We had just made a transition from a secondary route to another secondary which required us to take an off ramp which lead into well very crappy part of Iraq. After we had came down off the off ramp we had just picked up a little speed as to keep our interval with the convoy and that's when it happened. BOOM! The I.E.D. exploded throwing a big piece of burning hot copper from the right side of the truck to the left side. The I.E.D. had almost completely severed the right arm below the elbow of the guy who was sitting next to me. As the shrapnel flew through the truck it was as if time slowed downed and I distinctly remember the shrapnel hitting me on the wrist and face then in what seemed like minutes the concussion of the blast finally hit causing me to break my nose then go unconscious. What I heard when I woke up confirmed my fears. I knew I needed help because there was no way that I could manage such a critically wounded soldier on my own. My gunner wasn't going to be much help due to the amount of shrapnel he received. It was my gunner who was able to single the other trucks to get up here fast all because of a chemical light. As the trucks came up and security was in place we began to work on the severely wounded my gunner and my T.C. (truck commander). It was me and one other person working on my gunner, our medic along with a few other people were working on our T.C. and it just so happened that our medic on the civilian side was a paramedic for city back in Minnesota. What seemed like hours was probably no more then 30minutes of being on the ground before the medevac (same as emergency medical helicopters) arrived on scene to take the three of to a military hospital in the Green Zone. Once I was there I had a CAT scan done then from there I was taken to a open room where I was given an I.V. and cleaned up my this medic. She was absolutely calm, ready to do whatever needed to be done. She wiped the dried blood off my face, pulled small pieces of shrapnel out and off of my face, and bandaged my left wrist which still had a chunk of shrapnel inside of it that would later fester and be pulled out by one of my buddies. After all this had happened I was taken to a room that was filled with soldiers like myself in some way shape or form. I found a rack (bed) and put my things on it as most of the guys were sleeping. A few minutes later a guy asked me if I wanted to see my buddies who had gone through the entire event with me. I just remember standing there in complete shock of how rough my buddies look compared to me. We talked for what seemed to be only 10 to 15 minutes before a guy came looking for me. I was then in a sense escorted to the on call shrink because what I had exhibited signs of what the Army refers to 1000 yard stare. It's as if the soldier is looking off into nothingness, emotionless almost. In complete shock basically.
I spent nearly two days in this hospital and constantly seeing the pain of hurting men. Men who've been shot at, blown up, tore up, and just beaten up. I met three men at this hospital during my time there that made a lasting impression on me and I remember them to this day. The first shared a room with a buddy of mine. This man was being sent back stateside due to the severity of his wounds that his received from the I.E.D. blast that he bad been in. He made me look like nothing compared to his wounds and we talked much about life. He talked of his daughter and her wedding that would be taking place soon and how much he missed his family. The second was a was an older man who had been shot in the hand while out on patrol with his soldiers and he had returned for surgery on his hand. The third was a younger man who had been wounded by the same type of I.E.D. that had wounded me. In the two days or so that I had been at this hospital I experienced much more then I ever thought I would honestly. I witnessed an angel flight which is where the bodies of fallen soldiers are loaded on helicopters then flown out of the country and are usually escorted as well. On the night I put my buddies on the helicopter for them to leave Iraq was unusually hard. I was sitting at a computer desk messing around on what then was the only social media device that being myspace, it just so happens that as I was getting to stand up the medic who took care of me was passing by. She asked me one very simple question, " How are you doing ?" I said I think we should go somewhere to talk and it all came out. I was in tears literally seconds after talking with her, this was so painful for me, to have gone through so much then lose the only guys who really understood what we had been through. That memory is still etched in my brain to this day. I remember her face, where we were sitting, and the sights and sounds as people passed by.
Two days later I'm sitting in a little tent at one of the bases where we traveled with our convoys waiting to get picked, but due to the amount of fog it had been made nearly impossible until the night of the 24th of December............... Christmas Eve. Go figure right lol So I had heard that there was possibly a handful of trucks from my unit heading southbound and swinging by to pick me up on their way south. During the trip south before they had a little run in with an I.E.D. thankfully they only substantiated vehicle damage and that no one way wounded. We picked up food at the chow hall then made our way south. The leg of the journey I fell asleep and just remember waking up a little north of our base. We arrived on Christmas morning around 0230ish, I pretty much ran to my trailer dropped my gear off and looking for anyone from my platoon. As I entered my trailer my roommate had set bowl with little goodies such as Hershey Kisses, suckers, and Kraft Easy Mac for when we didn't want to leave the trailer. I quickly dropped my body armor and ran to my squad leaders room where I pretty much pounded on his door and I was ecstatic when he answered. We embraced in a hug that only soldiers who've seen combat could understand or mothers and fathers who've lost sons. We talked and slowing, but surely my squad-mates entered in the tiny room. We talked and talked for a long time, then in typical military fashion we all headed outside for a smoke for those of us that smoked. We continued to talk about everything that happened that night, in some sense it was kind of like a counseling session for everyone involved that night. A few weeks later I would go on my last convoy ever and that was the end me doing convoy missions in Iraq.
Finished! Finally! Whew that was a post and a half and it didn't start or end easy at all. Thank you all for reading my blog.......... I really do appreciate that. I hope you all enjoy Christmas with your families and friends! Take care and God bless!
© Nathan Fahlin
No comments:
Post a Comment