AMEDD - to conserve fighting strength

This is a REALLY LONG POST — this came directly from my husband, SGT Daddy (with some minor edits from me for OPSEC reasons). This account describes what my husband went through over a 9 hour period.

The morning began with the siren signaling incoming. I ignored it. I hate putting on my gear and besides the big boy voice had dutifully reminded me that I should remain in hard shelter. I didn’t argue by deed or word. In the meantime the 155’s began to blaze away in support of some action that did not affect me. Later I was called out of my room to help in the aid station. Two of the COB (combat operations base )  were in the midst of a full on assault by the Taliban.

Rumor had it they had made it inside the wire signaled by claymores just outside the gate exploding in response to encroachment. Later some treated would say that some of the Afghan Army had turned their weapons on them.

I quickly changed and found the Aid Station in the midst of preparations. The toll was 12 casualties coming in with 5 KIA. This would later be amended to 15 counting Afghan forces. I was in the way and ill prepared to offer much assistance but did whatever I was instructed to.

I was asked if I could be a recorder, that is to record the ongoing medical treatment of a casualty at a specific bed, I dutifully answered yes. I had reservations. The only MasCal I’d ever experienced was in JRTC, did this make me ready? I would find out but not for hours.

The fighting was ongoing and in answer of support the 155’s ceased only to be replaced by jet after jet as well as rotary support. I knew it must be bad just seeing the amount of firepower flying in to make defense of our troops. The area had to be secured in order to enable evacuation of the wounded by Blackhawk.

Later SGT S would relay to me that he had word of a billion dollars worth of munitions being dropped to that end. Familiar faces showed up in support of the effort as well. Tom, an Army Doc with some other providers arrived in support.

When word finally came that the first to be evacuated were on the way over 9 hours had passed. The number of wounded remained the same meaning that these guys had held on all day, some with horrible injuries. All day soldiers had been waiting dutifully outside to help the ambulatory patients while the litter of patients would brought directly to the aid station. The big boy voiced beckoned those that were a specific blood type report to the aid station.

Later those that were CLS (combat life support)  certified were called in support of those we would soon be treating. Finally word came that the first medevac had come in. I was asked to tag the casualties as they came in order to track them.

The first litter patient came in and there was no time to affix the wrist band so I followed him back. My heart was racing. I put the bracelet on quickly and got the hell out of the way as the FST began quickly in a measured fashion working on the patient. I think he was American. I hurried back to the door as the next patient was coming in. It was an Afghan Army Soldier. I again followed the casualty to affix his bracelet. I again met the next patient at the door. It was another Afghan soldier. He could walk but he had to be guided in as his was face bandaged up. With shaking hands I put on the bracelet. The medics got him on a stretcher and began assessing his wounds.

PFC H would later recount how a soldier had taken shrapnel to the face and eyes, his nose and some of his lip. The next casualties coming in were to be all ambulatory. Some of us had 5 minutes to collect ourselves. For most it meant cleaning up and resetting for the due in casualties. For the FST,  it continued to be a fight to save a soldiers life.

The next casualties arrived and I was tasked to record. SGT A would treat and I would try to relay in shorthand what he was doing and what the soldier had suffered.

Throughout the night it shocked me how calm these patients were. Had I sustained these injuries I would have been beside myself. I reminded myself that they had had hours to reconcile to some degree what had happened to them. Our patient had been peppered by shrapnel on his left side, from is face down to his thigh. His left arm had been fractured as well. His response to all of this was calm and information. He told us that he’d been shot in the forearm a previous deployment. Once he was appropriately cared for I remember the call coming for people to perform CPR.

SGT M told me later the First American brought in went into cardiac arrest. He’d gone back to perform CPR to no avail. The docs cracked his chest and began massaging his heart. He didn’t make it. The next patient to come through that I saw was another Afghan Army. He had major damage to his right arm. They removed his bandages and they immediately wept blood. He had chunks missing from his arm. The closest I can approximate the injury to is the effect a melon baller has on a cantaloupe. That is was his arm looked like.

I was then called by name to my surprise to assist with a new situation. Wow I was needed specifically. To my dread, Capt P was having issues with the X-Ray plate reader. I secretly hoped was a simple problem with a simple solution. At first it appeared that way. The CPT explained that that the plate was not being brought into the machine for exposure. When I went to grab the plate it fell into the machine and naturally the x-ray was spoiled due to it’s high velocity delivery. The plate had not been fed in correctly and my hands had dislodged it allowing gravity to deliver the plate unceremoniously onto the carriage. A grinding noise ensued and what might’ve been a simple problem was exacerbated. A grinding motor came in response to the melee that had just ensued.

I grabbed my tools and began disassembling the unit while fielding questions of the unit’s operability. It was out of commission until I could resolve the issue. This scared the hell out of me. Up to this point I knew all I had to do was my best but that ultimately the lives of the injured rested squarely on the shoulders of the medics and doctors. I was flustered and had no idea if I could remedy the situation; after all I had worked on such a machine only once previously. I stopped and thought, long enough to realize I was taking apart the backside. The motor is to front left, this is where I needed to be!

I took my queue from the medics and began working at a measured pace. Once I opened the unit up seeing what I needed to see I quickly diagnosed the problem and fixed the unit. While still reassembling the unit the reader was again back in use. One patient had to be sent back out to another facility with the x-ray down. The Afghan Army soldier with the injured arm needed immediate attention.

I was relieved at my success and also that all eyes were no longer on me. I had never been in such a situation and came out no worse for wear.

In the end, it had become more of a group effort than I had anticipated. I had counted on the medical folks to handle everything. While I know I by no means saved the day -  it was gratifying to see a real need for my skills. In the end I don’t think I’d have managed so well if I had not witnessed the controlled chaos. Throughout everything, I witnessed a synergy between all those present. All of the things every one of us learned came in to play and the theoretical use during training came to fruition via an actual event wonderfully successful.

It was an altogether exhausting day, both gratifying and heart wrenching. For my part I will never forget it. For others present it will be perhaps yet another tragedy marked by heartfelt effort.

- written by SGT Daddy (6 Oct 2009 @ 1310 hours)