What It All Means To Me

My bags are packed and I am ready to roll. I am at Fort Bennings, Georgia. I hope to catch a flight tonight back home. It has been a rewarding and satisfying tour. I am one of the lucky ones, because my tour was only 3 months in theater. Our regular hospital people are spending 15 months.

My trip back started last Friday at 2100. We had to go through customs and dump out our 3 duffel bags completely and make sure we aren’t bringing back any illegal articles. We stayed in lock down until about 5 PM the on Saturday where we started our process for going to the airport. We stopped at Liepich, Germany for 2 hour layover. It was cold there. It was in the 90’s when we left Kuwait. I could see my breath when we stepped off the plane in Germany. It might be a cold, very cold winter for me after the 120 degree days.

For the most part, my deployment was better than I expected. I was fortunate to have been stationed in Mosul. We had a small, tight group. The other providers were great to work with. I would gladly repeat a tour with this group anytime. If I was in Bagdad, there would have been a lot of politics and policies. Yes, even in a war zone that stuff exists. There is way too much brass there all trying to do something to leave their mark. I guess I would never make it in politics.
I experienced every emotion possible. I had enjoyable times and a lot of laughs. I also fought back tears when I stood at attention for the Angel Flights. Unfortunately, that was more than once. I experienced anguish when I had to do an amputation. I also had great joy when I saw one of my patients in the news, knowing I did something to help him. I learned a lot about Iraq. I talked with one of the sergeants whose brigade killed Hussein’s 2 sons in Mosul back in 2003. It took a lot longer than the press showed. I saw soldiers laugh. I saw soldiers cry. The high point of my trip was to see my son grown up, leading and training fellow troops. He makes me proud to be his father and to be an American.

I also feel that I accomplished some of my goals. I joined the Army because I wanted to help our troops and also help our country fight against terrorism. I am too old to be an infantry man like my son, but I have specialized skills to offer. I have mixed feelings about the intensity of what I did. At first I felt like I could do a lot more. I saw a lot of combat wounds and learned a lot about their specialized care. I thought that I should have been a lot busier, but for me to be busier would have meant a lot more suffering and injuries to our troops. I definitely did not want to see that. They did need a lot of non-surgical orthopedic care. They did need an Orthopedists to evaluate them and treat their knee or shoulder or back injuries. They had a lot of injuries like I see everyday in my practice back home. So I feel that I did contribute to helping these soldiers even though it wasn’t a lot of battle wounds.

I leave with mixed emotions. I am ready to go home. It has been long time. I am anxious to see my family and friends. I also feel a little guilty. I see the other soldiers having to spend 6 or 12 or even 15 months compared to my 3. I feel like I should spend more time in Iraq. I also have commitments back home that I also need to take care of.

This will be my last entry into my blog since my deployment is complete. I want to say thanks to everyone who had supported me. I received many care packages and emails. I know it was a lot harder on people whom I left at home than it was for me.

I want to end this with a special note. This is something I learned in my basic training. It is called the Soldier’s Creed.

“ I am an American Soldier
I am a Warrior and a member of a team
I serve the people of the United States and live the Army value
I will always place the mission first
I will never accept defeat
I will never quit
I will never leave a fallen comrade
I am an American Soldier”

I am proud to be an American and an American Soldier.


Tom

What My Son Has Taught Me

I had a wonderful experience that a lot of times parents don’t often get to see of their children. I visited Mike and saw in action as a responsible, mature adult. Yes, I am talking about my son who was often wild and living on the edge as a child. Now he is responsible for the lives of men underneath him. He is a corporal in the Marines. He is a NCO (Non Commissioned Officer), so basically in charge of a lot of things. He still has a sergeant above him as well as other officers like colonels and generals. So when he is on a convoy, he has a commander, but when they dismount, he directs the troops on the ground. It was quite amazing to me, to see all the other troops come up to him to ask for permission or directions. On the ground he would direct their formations and give them orders to carry out. He would train them and drill them with other corporals. He is responsible for their lives outside the wire. I was truly proud as a father to watch him in action. The funny part is when we were back at the sleeping quarters or cans as they call them, he was like his old self, just joking or playing around. His men respected him or at least feared him enough that he only had to give the orders once and they carried it out.

This is a picture of Mike and myself after we arrived at an outlying FOB for target practice.We came in the MRAP behind us.
These are some of the vehicles than formed our convoy. As big as they are there is not a lot of room in them

I had an interesting time getting to visit him. I had some difficulty arranging a flight to his place. We had no direct flights from Mosul to Al Asad. So I had to travel to Balad, another air force base, and there try to get a flight to Al Asad. It was almost like me just hitch hiking a ride on the airplanes. I got to know the medic for the SF guys, so I was able to hitch a ride with them as they were flying to Balad. We take off and about an hour later we land but we don’t get off the plane. After about 20 minutes on the runway (remember, this is a military plane where we get on and off at the back of the plane with all the cargo), I talk to one of the SF guys who told me once in a while, they stop at Tikrit or Al Asad and pick up things. Al Asad!! Wait a minute. That is where I am ultimately trying to go to. So I talk to the flight crew and sure enough, we were at Al Asad. Here I was sitting on their runway for 20 minutes not knowing that this is the place I ultimately wanted to go to. So I asked the pilot and they let me get off just before they close the door. Fortunately, Al Asad has a bus system that goes 24 hrs a day. It was about 12:30 AM, I was able to catch a bus with all my gear and go to his camp. I knock on his door at 1 AM which was quite a surprise to him. I was able to spend about 3 days with him.

The guys in his MRAP, includes a gunner, dismount, driver, VC (Vehicle Commmander,ie Mike) and medic (not pictured)

I had a exciting time with him and learned a hell of a lot of how the other side lives. It is a world of differences between being an officer and an enlisted man in the military. He was able to give me a sampling of what his everyday in Iraq is like. One day I went shooting with him. We had to travel outside the wire. I rode in his MRAP which replaces most of the humvees now. We did about an hour drive on the roads of Iraq. Outside the wire you travel with your weapon loaded including a bullet in the chamber, but with the safety on. You are given a briefing before we leave in case we have to dismount and return fire. For the most part I was pretty safe. We will just ignore the fact that an IED blast occurred on the same road we traveled just the day before. The thing that made me the proudest of our troops is that this was one day in my life, with my adrenalin flowing pretty hard while outside the wire. These Marines do this almost everyday, day in and day out, without batting an eye. They are fully aware of the danger. They do this for us so we can live in peace at home. I was honored to be in their presence. That is why is hurts me deeply whenever I see any of them injured. Those guys are truly heroes to me.
).Mike doing tricks with the grenade launcher portion of his M4.Mike and a fellow corporal kicking the pigskin during some of their down time.


Oh by the way, I had a great time shooting with them. I shot the pistol (M9) and the M4 (similar to the M16 just a slightly shorter barrel and stock). We also did a night shoot using the night vision goggles. Those are so neat. You can see quite a bit at night with those. (Nancy, they would make a great Christmas present). Mike by the way got range high on the combine pistol and rifle shoot.
.This is the practice target range where we spent the day. It was a long day. We were up at 0430 and didn't return until 2300. It was a fun day however.

Well, I am on my way to Kuwait. I hope to be home in about a week.

Tom

It Is Hard To Let Go

This is most of the OR staff. These are the nurses and scrub techs who are assigned to the unit. Most of them are on a 15 month tour. They are scheduled to go home early Jan after their second set in a row of spending the holidays in Iraq.



This is most of the other doctors who I work with. All the other providers are full time active staff. They do a 6 month rotation.

These 2 are my closest friends. CAP Tom Chenowith and CAP Peter Brandrup, both from anesthesia. They came here a few weeks after I was here. They are here for 6 months. They are so close, you almost need a crowbar to separate them. We have spent a lot of time together. In the early morning I would make coffee since I had a great supply from Starbucks. Both of them would come into my CHU for 20-30 minutes before the day started. We would have coffee and talk or tell jokes. I really looked forward to that every morning. I will miss these 2 great friends the most.




Well, it is official. My replacement is here, although he had a tough time getting here. I had a few scares that I might be here a bit longer than originally planned, but it looks like we are back on track. When he arrived at Kuwait, the bus that picked up the group got into an accident. The lead bus stopped, but the second bus did not. Fortunately, he received just some bumps and bruises, nothing serious. For a while there, we didn’t know who was coming or when. Eventually, he got here a bit late, but better late than never.

I really have mixed emotions about leaving. Don’t get me wrong, I am ready to leave. You get a little tired of always running to the bunker when the C-RAM (our PA system) goes off. In fact, just last night, it went off during the middle of the night. I was in a deep sleep (which doesn’t happen that often) and when it went off yelling “Bunker, Bunker, Incoming, Incoming”, I reached over and tried to turn off my clock radio which I thought was going off. When I finally realized that I don’t have a clock radio and realized what it was, I threw on some pants and went out to the bunker. By that time the “All Clear” sounded, so I went back to bed. Of course then your adrenalin is flowing and it takes a while to go back to sleep. In the past 3 months that I have been here, we only had 2 mortars that actually hit the base. One hit the airfield, they aren’t real good shots. The other hit one of the T-walls and sprayed the area where the ambulances are parked. The back of 2 of the ambulances look like somebody shot them with a machine gun, but a little bondo and they were back in action.

Anyhow, back to mixed emotions. When you are here for a while and you are the only Orthopod in this area, I feel personally responsible for the care of these soldiers. I really feel like these kids are part of my own family for the sacrifice that they are doing. I go to the EMT whenever there are any injuries, whether they are orthopedic or not, just see if there is anything I can help them with. When you do that for awhile, it becomes engraved into you and it is hard to let go. When my replacement came, I held onto the pager. He had a tough time getting here. He didn’t get much sleep for a couple of days. I know he was new to all this, just like I was 3 months ago. I didn’t want to just dump all this onto him and say “Adios, good luck”. So after the 2nd day, he was getting broken in, he half jokingly said to me that he was wondering if I had separation anxiety. I guess I did. I was hesitant to let go. I didn’t want to acknowledge that my job here was done. My replacement is here, I can go now. I am not really needed anymore. After 3 months of always wondering when they call, how bad is it going to be. Hopefully, it will only be superficial wounds. Hopefully, no more Angel Flights. Now, after 3 months of riding that emotional roller coaster, all of a sudden, it is over. So I showed him the pager, showed him how to clear old messages, and gave him the pager. It is his turn now.

He seems like a good guy. His name is Dr. Magdiel Mayol, from Puerto Rico. I feel comfortable now leaving the orthopedic care in his hands. Ironically, I guess I timed giving him the pager at the right time. I told him the battery was low. So he had it for a while, the pager went dead and they couldn’t get a hold of him this morning. They know where I live, so they knocked on my door. They needed me for one more case. It was the EMT with just a little finger injury. So I took care of it. Now I am really done.

I am working on trying to see my son, Mike. He is out in Al Asad. It is not like I can go buy a ticket from United and show up at the airport. I have been working with our headquarters. One time there is a flight, then next time it is cancelled. It is sort of like standby. They call it Space A (space available). Mike is a marine out there. He will be moving to another base soon. So I hope to see him before I leave or he moves.
One of my first blogs that I wrote after I arrived here included this sign. Now on one of my last blogs before I leave I thought I would include it again, only a little different. They gave me an award. Someone must of liked what I was doing out here so they gave me a medal. It is the Army Commendation Medal. I think they liked that I stepped it up a bit and was always there when they needed me. I am just grateful that the medal wasn’t a Purple Heart.


Well, I am scheduled for the Freedom Flight on Oct 25th out of Kuwait. I should be back at Fort Bennings, Georgia then hopefully home by the 31st. I don’t think I will dress up as an Army man for Halloween this year.

Tom

New Hats

The other day we got new hats in the OR. One of the anesthetists has someone from his home town who regularly makes hat. I think this is a part time job for her. So she made a group of hats and sent them over here for us to wear in the OR. It sure beats the old paper throw away ones that we normally wear. Now we are colorful. Some of the hats are styled for Halloween, so these are just in time. In the picture, I am with some anesthesiologist, doctors and nurses from the OR. I don’t know if you can see the detail, but I picked the hat with little skeletons on it.

Speaking of Halloween, the kids (most of these soldiers are still kids to me) are really gearing up for this. Quite a few of them have ordered costumes. The command is going to release when they can wear them here at the CSH. That is an advantage for them being here working medical and being at one place at the time. The troops going outside the wire don’t get to wear costumes. Second thought, it might be pretty neat having Frankenstein kick in your door and point a M16 at you. I wonder if the insurgents would think it was neat.

Now for some more good news, sort of. They like me over here. I am just doing my job. I make myself available anytime, night or day ( It is not like I don't have the time or anywhere else to go). Apparently, in the past they have had some Orthopods who have not been so nice to work with. So the command told me I am doing a good job and that was very nice of them. In fact, I was doing so well that they have expanded my area of coverage. My area of coverage just grew about 100 miles. They tell me my schedule may change, but I am not sure what that means. I guess we will see.

Oh by the way, the news on the internet mentioned about Iraqi's civilian and kids getting killed in Mosul last weekend. That was the incident that kept me up most of the night. They didn't mention our soldier getting killed. They also didn't mention that that the insurgents were picking up the kids and using them as shields when our boys were fighting back. Our guys didn't kill any of the kids. One of the insurgents detonated a suicide vest and that's what got the kids. Funny how the news didn't quite pick up on that either.

Tom

The Angel Flight

I participated in my first Angel Flight the other day. I really prefer not to be involved with another one. It is hard not to cry in public. The Angel Flight is the name of the flight to take one of our fallen heroes home. A few nights ago, some of our Special Forces guys were on a mission. They took casualties. 3 of them had wounds which needed attention and surgery. Basically, they will eventually heal up and do alright. Unfortunately, one of their buddies was badly hurt. He essentially came in already expired, but we worked on him doing whatever we could, but to no avail. Usually, within 24 hrs if the weather permits, the body is flown out to the home base. They bring the body out in its’ temporary casket, with a flag draped over it. All the troops form a line on each side of the path leading from the ambulance to the plane. The casket is carried by the members of his platoon from the ambulance to the back of the plane with every soldier in full salute. Once it is in the plane the unit, one by one boards the plane to say their good-byes. Some of the docs were there because the other 3 wounded guys wanted to say their good-byes, so we escorted them out. We brought them out in another ambulance and rolled them in their wheelchairs to the line. One guy held his shot up arm in the salute position for the whole procession. I don’t know how he did it, but he wasn’t about to put his arm down until the order was given. Less than 24 hrs earlier, we took an AK 47 round out of that arm. That unit is scheduled to go home in a week. I know it hit everyone pretty hard, including me.

Things have definitely gotten busier. I hear reports that Mosul has become one of the last strong holds of the insurgents, so the Army is stepping up things to clean it up. Unfortunately, that will probably keep us busy.

More attacks have been aimed at the Iraqis and less to the Americans. The Iraqis are softer, easier targets. Also, when they hit American targets, we tend to more often finish completely what the insurgents started. The Iraqis have improved, but don’t always finish the job.

Hopefully home in a few weeks.

Tom

Build Me An Ark

We had an interesting briefing the other morning. I have heard about a big dam just north of Mosul. I think it comes off one of the tributaries of the Tigris River, which is about a mile or two east of here. Well, I have heard that the dam is not the most reliable structure. Apparently, when it was built many, many moons ago, they used gypsum at it base. They say that gypsum is not the most reliable substance for the dam. So the Army Corp of Engineers are working on shoreing it up somehow. Our base is downstream from that dam. The CSH is on the low side of the base. The other side, the Marez side, is higher up. The Corp of Engineers have moved their headquarters to one of the highest areas on the Marez side. If the dam breaks, they tell us we have about an hour before our hospital is 20 feet under water. That would make this place look like New Orleans after Katrina. So we practiced drills today, moving patients out and evacuating. The Corp tells us that the dam is fine and they are just taking precautionary measures to restore it. I am still a little puzzled that if we are fine, then why did they move their office to higher ground? Maybe I should request an ark for my next care package just in case.

We get a security briefing once a week. I can’t tell you much because then I would have to kill all of you. But, they did show some interesting photos. It wasn’t the good stuff like you see in People or US magazines. It was photos of bad guys smuggling things in from the border by horseback. These guys are not dumb. Apparently, the main roads are fairly well covered, so they are resorting to whatever means are available. The good thing is that there is only so much you can sneak in on horseback. But still, you can sneak in enough to still do some damage. So it does show that the enemy is getting a bit desperate. It also shows that we definitely can’t trust the neighboring countries where they harbor the insurgents.

I decided it is time for me to brag a little. Twice year we have to take a PFT (Physical Fitness Test). Even though we are in a combat zone, we still have to follow regulations. Part of the test is to run 2 miles under a certain time, standardized for your age. There is this one young medic, 22y/o, who is a bit impressed with himself. So he was shooting off his mouth just before the run. Most of these kids don’t know how to pace themselves. So he takes off like a bat out of hell and he is way out in front at the 1 mile marker, which is the turnaround point. One of the other docs, Rob (ER doc, younger, 38 y/o, active runner) and I decide to show him a lesson. So during the second mile, we close the gap and soon, Rob passes him. This was ok because Rob is known to be an active runner. About 10 or 15 seconds later, I catch up to him and pass him. At the finish line, I was about 30 seconds ahead of him, and Rob was about a minute ahead of him. Of course, back in the EMT, everyone was riding him to no end, telling him how 2 old guys beat him. I believe he could have beaten me if he would learn to pace himself and maybe practice running a little bit once in a while. He wants a rematch but I told him it would have to be within the next 2 weeks. After that, I hope to be flying out to visit Mike.

The picture is from the helicopter group. They are called “Dustoffs”. They are named after one of their pilots who had previously flown many missions, picking up wounded soldiers from areas no other pilots could reach. I think this was Viet Nam, but I am not exactly sure.

Tom