“Here’s Mack’s latest note, Julie. I’ll read it to you:
‘We did have a huge Thanksgiving dinner. I literally ate too much. Our mission that you mentioned was successful in that we accomplished what we set out to do. We went into one of the worst Taliban areas, found improvised explosive and burned and blew it up. We also found a Taliban Aid Station and burned it down. The real sad thing was that the other platoon was moving and an Afghani soldier moved off the cleared path and stepped on an IED, blew both his legs off, also injured an interpreter. Some of our guys were carrying him to the helicopter and the enemy apparently had a buried remote-controlled IED ready. When the stretcher bearers passed over it, they blew it up, killing two of our guys, injuring several more, and of course killing the Afghan guy on the stretcher. I was six hundred meters away with the other platoon and couldn't go help them since all the ground between us was not cleared and likely seeded with plenty more explosive devices. It was extraordinarily frustrating to not be able to help. Everyone was furious and despondent at the end of an otherwise tactically very successful mission. Memorial service was yesterday.
We are in our new Aid Station, which was just completed. It is beautiful and three times as large as our old one in the old stone Afghan building. The new place is by the helicopter landing zone; can be windy at times. Also too close to the trash burn pit, and I am lobbying hard to get the burn pit moved. Anyway, after I got back from the mission I pretty much just slept all day while the medics moved everything from the old building (none of them were out on the mission like I was). It was sometimes exhausting out in the field, climbing over the stone walls in the grape fields with full packs, weapons, etc.’”
“Golly, Curmudge, it must be awfully depressing for the troops and for the folks back home at Fort Campbell for the battalion to be losing at least two soldiers per week to IEDs.”
“Julie, I seem to recall reading about medieval times when battles were stopped to allow the wounded to be removed from the field. I guess now we are fighting an even more primitive civilization.”
“Civilization? Aren’t these the guys who condemn women to death by stoning?”
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Afghanistan ER
“Another note from Mack. It’s rather short:
‘Pretty busy over here; lost some guys to a suicide bomber in the field. These were guys I had just been on the same mission with for 6 days. Then I went back in to check up on things at the aid station. Next day, guys I was just walking with out there were blown to bits by a s_ _ _-a_ _ with an explosive vest. Also three injured. I can't stand the fact that I was with them; then the moment I leave to go back here to work, this thing happens. Memorial service tomorrow.’”
“Do you have any comments, Curmudge?”
“Nothing that isn’t profane, Julie.”
‘Pretty busy over here; lost some guys to a suicide bomber in the field. These were guys I had just been on the same mission with for 6 days. Then I went back in to check up on things at the aid station. Next day, guys I was just walking with out there were blown to bits by a s_ _ _-a_ _ with an explosive vest. Also three injured. I can't stand the fact that I was with them; then the moment I leave to go back here to work, this thing happens. Memorial service tomorrow.’”
“Do you have any comments, Curmudge?”
“Nothing that isn’t profane, Julie.”
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Afghanistan ER
“Well, Curmudge, after spending the past couple of days thinking about Mack’s letter in our last posting, do you feel any better?”
“I don’t feel better, Jaded Julie, but I understand better. Mack is living out his belief that wounded soldiers should receive the best medical care available at the point of injury. And he has determined that he will be available. As long as he has a good PA back in the aid station, Mack will practice battlefield medicine literally in the field. He may be setting a new standard for infantry battalion surgeons.”
“I can just hear the platoon sergeant announcing, ‘Listen up, guys. I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that the doc is going with us on this mission. The bad news is that that means our platoon has the toughest assignment and we are the most likely to sustain casualties.’”
“Let’s hope the good news outweighs the bad and that the bad news doesn’t actually occur.”
“But Curmudge, isn’t a physician too valuable to go out into the field like Mack does?”
“I’m sure, Julie, that every parent feels that way about their 20-year old rifleman son.”
“Mack said that he and the medics carry M-4’s and act like riflemen until someone is wounded. I thought that medical personnel were noncombatants and had red crosses on their helmets.”
“That was another war, Julie. To the Taliban, a red cross—especially a cross—would look just like a bull’s-eye.”
“Curmudge, wouldn’t a physician feel out of his element in the field carrying a rifle along with his aid bag?”
“That might be true for a lot of docs, but not Mack. When he first went on active duty in the mid-1980’s, he was an infantry platoon leader. That was before a lot of today’s young soldiers were born.”
“Finally Curmudge, do you still get that knot in the pit of your stomach when you read notes from Mack?”
“It’s there all the time, Julie, and it will remain there for the next several months.”
“I don’t feel better, Jaded Julie, but I understand better. Mack is living out his belief that wounded soldiers should receive the best medical care available at the point of injury. And he has determined that he will be available. As long as he has a good PA back in the aid station, Mack will practice battlefield medicine literally in the field. He may be setting a new standard for infantry battalion surgeons.”
“I can just hear the platoon sergeant announcing, ‘Listen up, guys. I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that the doc is going with us on this mission. The bad news is that that means our platoon has the toughest assignment and we are the most likely to sustain casualties.’”
“Let’s hope the good news outweighs the bad and that the bad news doesn’t actually occur.”
“But Curmudge, isn’t a physician too valuable to go out into the field like Mack does?”
“I’m sure, Julie, that every parent feels that way about their 20-year old rifleman son.”
“Mack said that he and the medics carry M-4’s and act like riflemen until someone is wounded. I thought that medical personnel were noncombatants and had red crosses on their helmets.”
“That was another war, Julie. To the Taliban, a red cross—especially a cross—would look just like a bull’s-eye.”
“Curmudge, wouldn’t a physician feel out of his element in the field carrying a rifle along with his aid bag?”
“That might be true for a lot of docs, but not Mack. When he first went on active duty in the mid-1980’s, he was an infantry platoon leader. That was before a lot of today’s young soldiers were born.”
“Finally Curmudge, do you still get that knot in the pit of your stomach when you read notes from Mack?”
“It’s there all the time, Julie, and it will remain there for the next several months.”
Monday, November 15, 2010
Afghanistan ER
“Curmudge, a few weeks ago, on October 11, you shared a note from Mack describing injuries that he and the troops sustained from improvised explosive devices (IEDs).”
“Right, Julie. It brought the war in Afghanistan awfully close to home. He recently provided more details about the mission in a letter to an old friend from Appleton. Mack sent me a copy; I’ll read part of it:
‘Dear Joe,
The last 5 months have been quite an adventure. It would take quite a while to detail everything, and I can tell you stories on end if you are interested. I will tell you about the mission where the IED attack happened. To start with, I am a ‘battalion surgeon’ in an infantry battalion. The term ‘surgeon’ in this case, means the chief medical officer for a military unit as opposed to being a surgeon who takes out gall bladders, etc. As you know, my specialty is Emergency Medicine, i.e. working in an ER.
I have gone on all the major offensives/missions. What happens is I usually go with whichever platoon or company looks like they will encounter the most resistance and have the greatest potential for casualties. I carry an M-4 (it's a shortened M-16 with a collapsible stock like the riflemen carry) and function pretty much like a rifleman the way the medics do until something happens. There is a combat medic in each platoon and I "plus up" the given platoon in these situations.
This particular mission was a Clear and Hold, where we move through the countryside, clearing houses/ compounds to ensure no enemy there and identify/destroy any IEDs that are found. The second evening we were settling down to eat a meal and sleep when the radio call came in that one of the guys in the next platoon over had stepped on an IED and had lost a leg. I ran with the company commander who was with our platoon up to the area where they were, (a grape field). The guy was pretty messed up, one leg gone, open pelvic fracture, severe rectal and pelvic injuries. The medics and I got the guy stabilized and we called in a helicopter to fly him out. We were somewhat shaken up by what had happened to him. I went back to my platoon and we went to sleep. The next morning we were to move to a new compound (Afghani houses, or compounds are mud-walled courtyards with individual rooms built into the walls as opposed to the whole building having a roof like an American house), and we packed up and moved to the place. It had been searched to ensure no bombs were rigged or anything. We had just moved inside when the first bomb went off. It was about 15 feet from me, but it was inside the foyer and I was just around a corner so that protected me from shrapnel. In the explosion guys were thrown through the air, lots of smoke, etc. and lots of confusion. I was checking out the guy who landed right in front of me; then people started shouting that someone was badly injured. I yelled that everybody who could walk should go toward the walls and bring the badly injured to the middle.
We were working on this guy who had shrapnel to his face, legs, etc, left middle finger partly blown off, fragments in right elbow, etc. in the middle of the courtyard when the second bomb went off along the wall. My medic and I fell across the guy to keep the dirt chunks/ fragments, etc from falling on him, then got him wrapped up to fly out. Because of the concussion there was an increasing number of people vomiting, losing balance, etc. I sent out 5 on the first helo, then 12 on the next one. We sent out some more on a convoy that brought the battalion commander to the scene later. By this time the platoon was not really combat effective, so the rest of us flew out late that night on a Blackhawk. My medics at the base camp with my PA checked the remainder of the people out including me. I just had a headache and jaw ache the next day, then pretty much felt back to normal aided by my pounding max doses of Tylenol. My parents did get a call the next morning from Fort Campbell saying I had had a mild ‘TBI’, but fortunately I had e-mailed my dad late the night before so he know I was still coherent.
I hope that wasn't too laborious a read. This week has been somewhat difficult as we lost two guys who were killed outright by IEDs. My PA and my medics and I were in the Aid Station three nights ago when the locals brought in two girls (age 4 and 7) who had been badly burned in a gasoline explosion. Apparently the parents had bought what they thought was diesel fuel but turned out to be gasoline for their heater. When they filled it and lit it, Boom! Burns about 80-90% of bodies. We intubated the kids, dressed the burns, and flew them out. Apparently they both died the next day, judged by the hospital to be not survivable burns, changed to comfort care only.
I should be home next spring/summer and certainly plan to stop to see you the next time I'm in Wisconsin.
Take care---Mack’”
“What’s the lesson, Curmudge? It sounds as if the good guys took it on the chin.”
“Julie, when I read this, my only feeling is the knot growing in the pit of my stomach. Let’s think about Mack’s letter and talk more about it in a few days.”
“Right, Julie. It brought the war in Afghanistan awfully close to home. He recently provided more details about the mission in a letter to an old friend from Appleton. Mack sent me a copy; I’ll read part of it:
‘Dear Joe,
The last 5 months have been quite an adventure. It would take quite a while to detail everything, and I can tell you stories on end if you are interested. I will tell you about the mission where the IED attack happened. To start with, I am a ‘battalion surgeon’ in an infantry battalion. The term ‘surgeon’ in this case, means the chief medical officer for a military unit as opposed to being a surgeon who takes out gall bladders, etc. As you know, my specialty is Emergency Medicine, i.e. working in an ER.
I have gone on all the major offensives/missions. What happens is I usually go with whichever platoon or company looks like they will encounter the most resistance and have the greatest potential for casualties. I carry an M-4 (it's a shortened M-16 with a collapsible stock like the riflemen carry) and function pretty much like a rifleman the way the medics do until something happens. There is a combat medic in each platoon and I "plus up" the given platoon in these situations.
This particular mission was a Clear and Hold, where we move through the countryside, clearing houses/ compounds to ensure no enemy there and identify/destroy any IEDs that are found. The second evening we were settling down to eat a meal and sleep when the radio call came in that one of the guys in the next platoon over had stepped on an IED and had lost a leg. I ran with the company commander who was with our platoon up to the area where they were, (a grape field). The guy was pretty messed up, one leg gone, open pelvic fracture, severe rectal and pelvic injuries. The medics and I got the guy stabilized and we called in a helicopter to fly him out. We were somewhat shaken up by what had happened to him. I went back to my platoon and we went to sleep. The next morning we were to move to a new compound (Afghani houses, or compounds are mud-walled courtyards with individual rooms built into the walls as opposed to the whole building having a roof like an American house), and we packed up and moved to the place. It had been searched to ensure no bombs were rigged or anything. We had just moved inside when the first bomb went off. It was about 15 feet from me, but it was inside the foyer and I was just around a corner so that protected me from shrapnel. In the explosion guys were thrown through the air, lots of smoke, etc. and lots of confusion. I was checking out the guy who landed right in front of me; then people started shouting that someone was badly injured. I yelled that everybody who could walk should go toward the walls and bring the badly injured to the middle.
We were working on this guy who had shrapnel to his face, legs, etc, left middle finger partly blown off, fragments in right elbow, etc. in the middle of the courtyard when the second bomb went off along the wall. My medic and I fell across the guy to keep the dirt chunks/ fragments, etc from falling on him, then got him wrapped up to fly out. Because of the concussion there was an increasing number of people vomiting, losing balance, etc. I sent out 5 on the first helo, then 12 on the next one. We sent out some more on a convoy that brought the battalion commander to the scene later. By this time the platoon was not really combat effective, so the rest of us flew out late that night on a Blackhawk. My medics at the base camp with my PA checked the remainder of the people out including me. I just had a headache and jaw ache the next day, then pretty much felt back to normal aided by my pounding max doses of Tylenol. My parents did get a call the next morning from Fort Campbell saying I had had a mild ‘TBI’, but fortunately I had e-mailed my dad late the night before so he know I was still coherent.
I hope that wasn't too laborious a read. This week has been somewhat difficult as we lost two guys who were killed outright by IEDs. My PA and my medics and I were in the Aid Station three nights ago when the locals brought in two girls (age 4 and 7) who had been badly burned in a gasoline explosion. Apparently the parents had bought what they thought was diesel fuel but turned out to be gasoline for their heater. When they filled it and lit it, Boom! Burns about 80-90% of bodies. We intubated the kids, dressed the burns, and flew them out. Apparently they both died the next day, judged by the hospital to be not survivable burns, changed to comfort care only.
I should be home next spring/summer and certainly plan to stop to see you the next time I'm in Wisconsin.
Take care---Mack’”
“What’s the lesson, Curmudge? It sounds as if the good guys took it on the chin.”
“Julie, when I read this, my only feeling is the knot growing in the pit of my stomach. Let’s think about Mack’s letter and talk more about it in a few days.”
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