The army started a training system, a system to try and back up the combat
medic. They call it the Combat Life Saver, or CLS. A line soldier given just
that extra bit of first aid training, so that if the situation calls, and there
is no medic handy they can leap into action, and administer the most desperately
needed care. ...
My day started off so normal. ... Very rarely does
any shit go down in this town. It is quiet and we like it that way. ...
You want to know the most terrible moment of a disaster? It is that split second
when it begins. When all of a sudden there is a bright flash, that is nothing
special except that it is the big break with reality to the fucked up world you
are about to begin. A split second of bright light, and for the briefest second,
there is no thought in your head, everything in you braces for....for what?
What the FUCK happened?
VBED goes around in shouts around our perimeter, Casualties go around. Then MY
name goes around. Our convoy has no medics and 3 CLS. 2 of those CLS are on the
CO's Bradley crew. I'm the third. FUCK. My name is being screamed. Someone is
hurt. You’re on kiddo. FUUUUUCK.
WHERE THE FUCK IS THE CHOPPER?
CHOPPERS! FUCKING THANK GOD!
I ride the gun, because I want some time to think. I ride the gun so no one
can look directly at me if I break. I ride the gun, so if the opportunity
presents itself, if there is call, then I can cause the absolute maximum damage
possible. I want to cleanse myself in fire. ...
Well, my buddy is still under serious observation. The swelling is too bad to
accurately assess damage, but he can see apparently. They can't move him until
they are sure. ...
Also, he had a bruise on his chest. I didn't notice it at the time, but
apparently a large chunk of metal from the VBED nailed him in the chest as well.
But thank God I didn't have to treat a sucking chest wound. He like all of us
out here has the trauma plate to our IBAs.
What happened to him puts into perspective something I've been seeing all along.
That fucking vest we wear has proved it's fucking worth. The damn thing adds
like 10 degrees to every hot day, the plates limit your range of motion and add
like 20 fucking pounds to your regular load. Those things are horrid, and they
are killing my back, giving me pains I never had before. All sorts of soreness
in our lower backs. If you watch the movie Black Hawk Down, you see a Ranger
pull the plate out of his back saying he didn't want the extra weight. All I can
say is that I am keeping mine in.
The only parts hurt on this kid were parts not covered by his IBA. That
shit works, I'd buy stock in it. I will gladly continue to wear my plates and
This shit has me so freaked out. I'm not scared for me; I'm scared of what
could have happened. I am so glad this kid had his plates. Long before any of
us got there, those things saved his ass. They save lives all over Iraq.
Thanks again Kerry, you shit, for voting
Just another day in the life of an American Warrior. The Soldier whose life
The Cat helped save pulled through thanks to equipment Senator John F Kerry
didn't think he deserved to be wearing. ("I voted for it before I voted against
it.") Think, damn it! If what John Kerry did to the Viet Nam generation isn't
enough to keep you from voting for him, think about the current generation of
warriors. Do they matter? Have they earned your respect? They believe in what
they're doing and they believe in George Bush. Think about that.
This post will remain at the top of my blog for the remainder of the day.