By Sgt Stephen A. Belair

While we reloaded our ammunition and rested for a few hours, I got an extra passenger. One of the HQ vehicles had broken down and they had to abandon the vehicle. I took on the radio operator, which brought the total number of my crew to four. This made it even tighter inside a mighty small vehicle. But, he had an M16 rifle and the three of us only had a 9mm pistol each.

Once we regrouped after taking the bridge, we got ready to move to Saddam Hussein International Airport in Baghdad. As we drove down some back roads we went through several small towns. It was like the Labor Day parade in Newtown. There were Iraqis all over waving and cheering us.

The last stretch of road was desolate for about the last five miles before we got to the highway. As we approached the highway, the first few vehicles were reporting that they were taking fire from the left. About two minutes later the same vehicles said that they were also taking fire from the right. We fought our way to the exit to the airport. At that point the tanks went into the airport and the medics, mechanics, cooks, fuelers, all stayed behind while they went in.

I noticed headlights come over a hill about 200 feet from our position. It was a car driving directly at us. I pulled out my pistol and fired six shots at it. I have no idea if I hit the vehicle because at the same time everyone else fired too. Someone fired an automatic grenade launcher at the car and it blew. The explosion was much bigger than just the round going off which led us to believe that this car was rigged with some kind of explosives.

When the tanks rolled into the airport they called for us to push forward to refuel them. We learned at that time that one of our mechanics was driving with another company. His vehicle went off the road while they were taking fire. Sadly, the vehicle went into a canal and he drowned.

We rolled into the airport at dawn and were actually told to get some rest. No sooner did we lie down, than the Iraqis attacked. The firefight lasted for about an hour. Shortly after, we got a call for wounded. All the wounded were Iraqis that we captured. We spent the rest of the morning treating patients, most of them Iraqi. A few of our guys had minor injuries.

That evening someone came and woke up my crew saying that another vehicle had driven into a canal. When we arrived we found three injured soldiers. We attempted to resuscitate them, but our efforts were in vain. I remember the teamwork that went into trying to save them. I especially found it hard to tell my crew that they finally had to stop CPR. (Under combat conditions, the senior medic has the authority to make certain decisions, unlike civilian medicine where a medical degree is required.) It is a decision that I will always remember. It was the right decision, but three soldiers weren’t going to see their families. I remember all three of their names, a cross I will proudly bear out of respect for them, and what they died for. I later found out that one of the soldier’s wives gave birth to a son just days afterward.

Once we secured the airport, we renamed it “Baghdad International Airport.” Soon the reinforcements started rolling in. After a brief rest we rolled to a far side of the airport. There we cleared some Iraqi bunkers and found some interesting souvenirs. The next day we were told that we were going to occupy one of Saddam Hussein’s palaces. We had heard of the marvel of his palaces, but the stories did no justice. The palace we occupied was a small city with houses built all around. It had a concrete wall all the way around it and it was well secured. At that point we felt that we could finally relax.

We toured the main palace and we all took turns sitting in Saddam’s gold-plated throne. Some soldiers found a boathouse. Soon soldiers were riding around in boats and fishing in the moat. Of course our guard was always up. We would hear gunfire every now and then. The building that my section occupied was servants’ quarters. Nonetheless, it was beautiful. The architecture and decoration of this building was amazing.

Soldiers scurried off to claim rooms, which all had marble floors. The sergeants got together and let their subordinates get first pick of the rooms; we took what was left. Some guys ended up with a hot tub in their room, but there was no running water. They rigged up a pump to the pump house and soon the whole building had water. I chose a small room that had an intact window. (Most windows were broken when we searched the building.) It was nice to have air conditioning. I washed up and lay down. I remember lying down at 8 pm and I awoke at 9 am. I have never slept so well.

The commanding general came to visit us. He thanked us for all the hard work. He told us that our task force had set three world records and was the most successful in the division.

By the end of our first day the mail caught up to us. (Mail was being held since the start of the war.) I remember helping to download three trucks with mail, just for my company. It was like a vacation. That is, until I was unfortunate enough to be blessed with a large kidney stone. After some heavy doses of Morphine and Demerol, I was able to pass it and spent the next two days recovering.

Soon we were told we were moving to a new location. We packed whatever we could, rugs, mattresses, lamps. We moved to the Baghdad Martyr Memorial. This memorial is a museum that is circular in shape and has the names of every Iraqi that has died during their wars. We weren’t sure how far back it’s dated. We were there for about three weeks, occasionally going out on a mission.

Out of boredom, I volunteered to go on a security checkpoint. They always would send a medic and I figured it would change the scenery a little. We would set up on the side of the road and randomly search vehicles for weapons. We rolled to our area and started our operation. We had found about 20 weapons and detained as many people. It was a busy night.

We had a team that would search the car and a team that would search the people. If a weapon was found in the car or on the person someone yelled, “GUN!” At that point everyone goes down and all civilians get detained until we figure out what happened. While my friend and I were searching an Iraqi male, the other team found a gun in his car.

When we heard “GUN!” we grabbed the guy to get him to the ground and he resisted. When we used more force he pushed me. He was a big guy, probably 240 lbs; I weigh 170. I slammed into the back of his car. Since he knocked me backwards, I was attempting to twist my body to brace myself. The car was too close and I hit with my back into the car, directly on my left kidney. The pain was intense. Somehow I was able to get up and help my friend detain this guy. Afterward, I sat there almost in tears from the pain. I dealt with it because I was the medic; I wasn’t supposed to get hurt. Besides the mission was almost over. I would have to stop every few minutes and vomit, but I managed to make it.

The next morning they sent me back to get a special x-ray to see of the kidneys were damaged. When I got to the field hospital, they couldn’t do the x-ray because they needed to inject some dye in my bloodstream and I wasn’t stable enough for that. So I had to stay for a few days. My levels never lowered, in fact, they went up. I learned that my kidneys were shutting down; I was in renal failure. They decided to immediately fly me to the military hospital in Germany for advanced care.

I got to the Lansthul Regional Medical Center in Germany with nothing but what I was wearing. After five days of medications, rest, and IV fluids, my kidneys started working properly again. But to be safe, they decided to send me home instead of going back to my unit. The medical center had a wing that was strictly for the soldiers from Operation Iraqi Freedom. They treated us so good. We got a free 15-minute phone call every day. They brought us to a free store where we could get clothing that was donated by Wal-Mart. It was great.

My homecoming wasn’t at all like I had planned. I was picturing the soldiers and family members running to meet each other, the band playing, the balloons. I was looking forward to that so much. I flew home in civilian clothes on a civilian flight, to a civilian airport. I walked out of the terminal and I saw my lovely wife, Nichelle, standing there. As I took her in my arms, I realized that the bands, balloons, and crowds aren’t what are important. I was home and we were together. The embrace lasted about five minutes, but I would’ve been happy if it lasted an hour.

That afternoon I picked up my daughter from school. The look on her face was priceless. June 3 was a great day for us.

While I was recovering, I actually found out about a job position that had opened up on post. I actually interviewed for this job in December, but I couldn’t take it because we were getting ready to deploy. Surprisingly enough, the job was still available. A few phone calls and I had some orders.

All soldiers are required to go to a 30-day course called Primary Leadership Development Course, or PLDC for short. This course is taught at a noncommissioned officers academy. I currently am in charge of a medical aid-station at the academy we have on post. I provide sick call services, along with emergency medical care. I handle dental and medical readiness including immunizations for a staff of about 40.

My unit returned from Iraq in August. When they returned I was informed that I was put in for the Purple Heart for my injury, and I was recommended for the Bronze Star for treating the patients at the bridge over the Euphrates. Apparently, getting shot at and having mortar rounds land near you while you are treating patients is considered heroic. I consider that my job.