Chapter+5

A Medic’s Story

My name is Staff Sgt. Jacobs, I’m a medic in the United States Army, I was assigned to the three hundred twenty second infantry division. I lived with my platoon for several months before we were deployed to Iraq, so I got to know the men I was protecting before we ever went into combat. I built a close friendship with many of them and I knew when we were deployed I would do everything in my power to make sure they all came home.

When we were finally sent into Iraq, I was more nervous than I can ever remembering before in my whole life. Once the helicopter dropped us off and we all got out, I was surprised when I looked around because we were sitting right in the middle of city, we were surrounded by buildings, what appeared to be small houses with dirt floors and not a whole lot of furniture. It seemed like there had been Iraqi insurgents, but they were gone when we got there. We were told then to stay in the area until another helicopter could pick us up. Unfortunately another helicopter couldn’t come for several hours.

As we sat in the hot sun waiting for what seemed like hours, most of the men seemed to become very restless and dehydrated. After what seemed like hours we started to hear a the sound of a motor, but it wasn’t the sound of a helicopter. Suddenly we saw a convoy of Iraqi trucks loaded with insurgents, unfortunately they saw us before we saw them. As they passed by us I hear a very loud spray of gunfire directed right at us. Everyone scattered and ran into the nearest building. It was then I realized two of our guys had been hit. One was for sure dead, but the other managed to crawl behind a parked car on the side of the road. Being the medic I knew it was my job to make sure that he made it home. Luckily we were in the second story of the building a and we had a height advantage over the Iraqis. I asked everyone who was in the second story to distract them long enough for me to carry him to the back of the building. They threw grenades and unloaded a hail storm of gunfire. The bullets ripped right through the thin metal of the trucks. Then I raced as quickly as I could to the street, the rest of my platoon was able to keep the Iraqis pinned down long enough for me to get to the injured soldier. Once I reached him I threw him on my back and ran with him to the back of the building. As I was got him to back of the building, a couple Iraqis escaped the fire from our guys in the second story by sneaking around the building. As soon as I turned the corner I saw an Iraqi soldier with his back turned to me. I lifted my rifle and started to hold down the trigger, he immediately turned around just to run into a hailstorm of fire. As soon as I had done that another Iraqi turned the corner gun blazing, running at me full force. By the time he got close to me his un started clicking, indicating he was out of ammo. I quickly unloaded some shots into his torso as soon as I realized what had happened. It was then I realized I was still carrying a wounded soldier. I then set him down and started to put pressure on his wound. It was then that I started to hear the blades of a helicopter approaching. Realizing they weren’t winning the remaining Iraqis disappeared into the desert. As the helicopter landed I thought of how I was able to save one life, but I wasn’t able to get to the other soldier before it was too late, I knew it wasn’t my fault, but that still didn’t make me feel much better knowing it was my job to protect these soldiers and one had died while I was with them.

Colin Beuttler

Works cited:http://www.onpointradio.org/shows/2004/03/20040318_a_main.asp http://www.iraqwarveterans.org/soldier_single_mom.htm http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/1128/p01s02-usmi.html