Not On My Watch
The 21st Century Combat Medic
by
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One priority taught in the Army is that you watch out for your buddy. That includes parties on the weekends and on battlefields far away. When I see my buddy Gil leaving, I know there is no way I am going to let him go without me. My feet carry my body down the rear ramp before the command to do so even enters my brain. My mind had no regard for my personal well-being. My heart pounds with each step towards the wreckage. My life is in the hands of God as I proceed along with the two other Soldiers. Smoke fills my lungs. Sand stings my face. Adrenaline courses through my veins. It is a movie scene with no cuts.
As I run behind Gil to the crash site I see other people running off to our left. Small arms fire again. The rounds spray the sand between Gil and I as we run about 200 meters to what is left of the burning helicopter. For a fleeting second I experience fear on a level that I have never known.
“Sweet Jesus!” I pray. “You kept me alive this long for some reason, let me get to that bird so I can complete my job!”
The Soldier who exited our bird ahead of Gil and me begins laying down suppressive fire with the only 30-round magazine he has. Gil and I dive into the wreckage searching for the pilots who would have M9 handguns. Gil finally finds one and begins surveying our perimeter for any more hostiles. His screamed profanities are used as ammunition to ward off the advance of the encroaching hostiles. No real ammo can be found.
As I crouch in the wreckage, I begin looking around at the tangled mess of metal and flesh. Amputated limbs and bloody uniforms is all that my mind seems to grasp. I begin searching for any sign of life amongst the incredible amount of death. I try as hard as I can to turn off my heart’s feelings and let my mind execute my mission. This proves to be much more difficult than I thought. It is then that the smell begins to saturate my being.
Any veteran who has spent time on the battlefield will tell you about the gruesome familiarity one obtains with the smell of death. It invades the nostrils and seems to live in the skin for days. It can’t be showered off, it can’t be wished off. It can’t at all be ignored; it hangs heavy in the psyche for a very long time. It makes the heart sink, and no one who has ever smelled it could ever forget it.
Now I scream for anyone still alive to make some movement. At first, it is difficult to tell the difference between twisted metal and twisted bodies. In the background of my mind I listen to our only M-16 crack off rounds in the enemy’s direction. I lay as low as I can in the rubble while I search for survivors. As my face roots through the pile I make a positive discovery. There is movement and cries for help! I can not believe how many people are still moving. There are approximately 32 passengers on the downed helicopter and I immediately see at least seven or eight Soldiers still alive.
“I need you to help me with the wounded.” I scream at Gil, perhaps louder than necessary. Sweat pours down his face and his eyes dart about as he tries to calm himself and listen to what I am saying. His hands are shaking as badly as mine.
I grab his face. “I need you to focus and remember everything we just taught you last week. You have to help me! I cannot do this alone!” He swallows hard and immediately gains control. We both nod and we know what has to be done.
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About the Book
Our story takes you on a journey from our lives before the war to the mountainous terrains of Afghanistan and the barren deserts of Iraq. It is our desire to bring to life what it is like for the American Soldier fighting in the war on terror overseas. Not just from a Soldier's perspective, but from the Combat Medic's perspective. We want you to learn about the heartaches, the fear, the excitement and the terror of combat today. These stories are not intended to bring glory upon ourselves. They are written to show the courage and bravery of every American Soldier with whom we served. While this book is written from our first person view, the "I" and "we" are inclusive of all the Medics that have served Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom. Every medic deployed in support of these operations have similar stories to tell. The title, Not On My Watch, The 21st Century Combat Medic expresses the fervor with which we serve. First, our motto: Not On My Watch. This speaks not only of the personal pride and sacrifice that we, as Combat Medics have in our assignment, but also of our willingness to sacrifice in order to save a fellow Soldier's life. We are saying, "As long as I am there, I am going to sacrifice everything I have to give the wounded Soldier a second chance at life". The latter part of the title stresses how combat and combat medicine has evolved to our generation from the generation of the heroes who served from the very first shot of the Revolutionary War until now. We have met the men and women of past wars at welcome home ceremonies, the local VFW's, and through everyday interactions. Every story is different, yet every story is exactly the same: The same courage, bravery, honor, and dedication to fellow Soldiers on the battlefield. We remember the look of pride in the eyes of every Vietnam, Korean, and WWII veteran as they shook our hands at the airport upon our arrival back to the United States. It is that look that lets us know that alt
About the Author
Joshua Peters is the recipient of the Combat Medic Badge, and two Army Commendation Medals, one with Valor Device for actions during the attack on the CH-47 Chinook Helicopter on 02 November 03. He has been honored with a tribute to Heroism in the Congressional Record of the 108th Congress.
Josh Fansler is the recipient of the Combat Medic Badge in Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom. He has been awarded two Army Commendations Medals for meritorious service. He also possesses the Expert Field Medical Badge and Airborne Wings.
Their published works include the newspapers and magazine of