my son benjamin's essay on the day that changed his life....

I always knew the day would come when I would have to do my job, I just never knew exactly when that time would be. While deployed in Afghanistan, I was attached to the battalion mortar platoon as their medic. I am a medic, but as the Army goes I am infantry until something goes wrong. Finally came the day when I was tested.. As cynical as it sounds, I was looking forward to it happening. I had been training for over two years and I wanted to put my skills to work. I would've liked for it to have been on a local national, or at least someone I didn't know personally, but beggers can't be choosers.
At 5 am, we started walking. Sgt Reynolds and his squad took point. While making our way to the village, Sgt Reynolds found the first IED (improvised explosive device) of the day. He called it up on the radio. EOD (explosive ordinance disposal) moved to his position and blew the IED in place. We soon continued to push forward, and shortly after Sgt Reynolds found another IED, and then another. He found a total of four IEDs, and then it happened.
I had climbed over a wall and was helping Pfc Dyal over that same wall. As the medic, I walked in the back with the platoon sergeant, SFC Harvel. Then I heard it. I knew the explosion hadn't been trigged by EOD, therefore I knew it wasn't good. Everything slowed down. In the distance I heard Pfc Chebahtah yell “Sgt Reynolds is hit, Sgt Reynolds is hit!”. Immediately Sfc Harvel and I ran toward the front of our formation where Sgt Reynolds and his squad were. At the same time we were moving up front, the other three squads in my platoon faced off in different directions and started pulling security. Practice did make perfect.
I made it about 10 meters away from Sgt Reynolds, and I could see his head poking out of the brush. He had been blown off the grape row. It was as if he was sitting on the side of it with his legs buried in the shrubs. Pfc Szaro grabbed my arm and I'll never forget the look; the definiton of shock on his 18 year old face as he yelled to me “You have to save him Doc!”. That's when reality hit, I had a job to do. My intention was to run directly to Sgt Reynolds, but Sfc Harvel grabbed me. Another member of my platoon cleared up to Sgt Reynolds first, to make sure there were no secondary IEDs. The only thing worse than one casualty is multiple casualties.
Seconds seemed like hours, and the whole time Sgt Reynolds was screaming. Finally it was safe and I made my way up to him. Instinctively, he grabbed my arm and was yelling for medication, but that wasn't first on my list of priorities, I had to stop the bleeding. I told him he was fine, and asked him where he was hurt. He responded with movement, and this I'll never forget. Sgt Reynolds reached down, grabbed his left pant leg, and pulled up out of the brush a leg that had been blow apart and just looked at me. Where a shin and a boot should have been was a bloody leg and a heel.
Training kicked in. I grabbed a tourniquet and tightened it as fast as I could around his quadricep. After, I gave him a fentanyl lollipop to help subdue the pain. Then, eight members of the platoon hoisted Sgt Reynolds up, and moved in back about 50 meters to where the landing zone was. It was remarkable to me how much muscle memory played a part in my treatment. I felt as if I was floating in the sky watching my body work. I quickly assessed the rest of his body for injuries, and found one. He had deep lacerations to his opposite thigh, so I applied a second tourniquet. During the whole process I was trying to keep him calm, despite his justified worries of how he would ever drive his truck or play baseball with his daughter again.
Finally came the sound we had all been waiting for. The whipping of the rotars that announced the arrival of the helicopter. The dust filled our vision, and then disappeared, bringing to view a medevac bird waiting to bring Sgt Reynolds to safety. As quick as it had landed, it was loaded and in the sky again. After the tragedy, I, along with every other member of my platoon I'm sure, wanted to sit and come to terms with what had just happened. That's not how it works. We still had a job to do. We continued on with the mission, and cleared the rest of the village. We found three more IEDs, thankfully without any more incidents. We then made it back to our trucks, and successfully completed our mission.
That was the day that I never wanted, but always, wanted to come. That's the day that makes me thankful when I put on two shoes. Thankful when I wake up to work, even if it is 4:30 in the morning. Now I always have something I can look back on and be proud of. If I am feeling down, I just look at my hands and think to myself “these hands brought a father back home to his daughter”, and I start to feel better. Sgt Reynolds holds strong, and I think he just may be happier now than he was. He drives his truck, plays with his daughter, and sends me pictures of himself getting his leg “ran over” or “shut in a door”. That is inspiration at its finest, and it just goes to show me; life is all about how you take it.


That is the unedited one, so there are spelling errors and what have you. But I got a 96 on the final one, like a boss.