Ready for an End

I've been on active duty since 2003 and I have been extremely lucky to have not had to travel any further east than Adana Turkey. Brave, crazy and the working poor are headed to austere locations on a daily basis. Some come home earlier than others.

On Tuesday I got a call from an old acquaintance that I'd worked with a few times in the past. We didn't know each other extremely well, but he's one of those guys that everyone gets along with and everyone seems to know. No, not the guy who you see at the smokers lounge telling stories about the boss, but the guy who asks you how you are doing and actually looks like he cares. He called looking for someone else in my office that was out for the week. I asked him if there was something I could do to help, and he said that he really wanted someone to go visit an injured Soldier he was deployed with.

When you get a question like that, there is only one answer. I consider myself to be in the top 10 percent of the world's assholes, but I'd still never say no to a question like that. But the thought of visiting an seriously injured solider made me more than a little nervous especially after I was told that he could only answer yes or no questions.

Arriving to Landstuhl regional medical center and walking through the same doors we walked through for the birth of my daughter didn't make any of my nervousness subside. I walk up to the third floor to find the intensive care unit. Unlike any other part of the hospital I've ever been in, there was medical equipment cluttering up the entire hallway. I initially had thoughts of doctors running around yelling thing like 'stat' and 'code blue'. There was no waiting room or reception desk. This place was for keeping people alive and nothing else.

I was directed to the Private First Classes room and stuck my head into his room, expecting the absolute worst. I locked my gaze directly upon his face simply because I was afraid to notice if he was missing any appendages. I noticed right off, how young he was. He hadn't been shaven for a few days, but he only had a little stubble on his chin. They had a gown covering up his torso and down to his knees and he had some sort of inflatable devices covering each of his feet. He was noticeably groggy, but I'm certain he answered every question with a yes sir.

I felt like I had nothing to say to him. I told him that the guy I worked with asked me to say hi and tell him that everyone was pulling for him. I mentioned that I heard he was a pretty good flag football player because his team rolled over everyone during a thanksgiving tournament. The nurse said they were planning on moving him to Walter Reed tomorrow if everything remained as is.

Walking out of the building after a very short visit all I could think of was his family and what mine would be going through in the same situation. The only updates they'd get would be from the Red Cross and they'd have to just stand by to find out more until I was aero-vaced to the states. I just couldn't think of a worse situation.

So hopefully for young men like the one I met today, we'll see this war come to an end as quick as possible.