A 4/2 SBCT soldier is briefly interviewed in the following article.
By Lennox Samuels
The young man in the gauzy yellow jumpsuit sits motionless in a reclining chair at the edge of the ward, his knees drawn up in a near-fetal position. His face is puffy from his wounds and he exhibits the stillness of someone who is blind. Indeed, the thick white bandage over his eyes seems to confirm that he is. But a second look takes in a light-brown leather strap that tethers him to the chair, and an American military officer confirms that he is a detainee. There’s nothing wrong with his eyes. The oversized bandage is there to make sure he won’t be able to identify anyone after he is released.
Apprehended because of his actions fighting Coalition forces in Iraq (Only captured or suspected insurgents face such restrictions), the man is a patient at the U.S. Air Force Theater Hospital at Balad Air Base. He is an emblem of the facility’s policy of treating anyone, friend or foe, who arrives there needing medical help. The care is world-class at the hospital, which is renowned for its trauma treatment and the skill of its doctors.
"For us, if you’re a military physician and come to Iraq and practice medicine, this is the Super Bowl,” says Colonel Patrick R. Storms, commander of the 332nd Expeditionary Medical Group and the hospital’s boss. A soldier brought to Balad, however badly injured, has a 99 percent chance of surviving. The one percent who die essentially are beyond saving because they have suffered extreme traumas such as loss of brain substance. The survival rate for Iraqi patients is 91 percent; they don't do quite as well as the Americans because they lack the soldiers' protective gear and are unable to heal as quickly since their bodies are often not as well nourished.
Saving lives is a reversal of roles in the building, which had a far more sinister function during the Saddam Hussein regime. “There used to be torture chambers in the basement, which boggled my mind,” Storms says. “Now the place looks a lot like a hospital. We’ve kind of lost that MASH feel.” Like the surgical hospital in the classic TV medical drama, the Air Force facility used to be housed in tents. Now it is in a 63,000-square-foot building outfitted with an overhead mortar protection field – a wise addition in this area, 42 miles north of Baghdad, where Iraqi militants regularly fire rockets and mortar onto the sprawling base. The patients, about half of whom are Iraqi and half American, are in the hands of a staff of 380, among them 17 surgeons. Not surprisingly in a war zone, the hospital’s priorities are to save lives and clear beds. American patients stay a little more than a day, on average. “It is not unusual for someone to be in Walter Reed within 72 hours of his injury,” says Storms, referring to the Army medical center in Washington. Iraqis typically are discharged after about six days. [...]
Capt. Brian Caldwell, of the 4th Brigade, 2nd Infantry Division, lies in a bed nearby, awake but slightly groggy. He had been walking at Forward Operating Base Warhorse when an IED exploded. “They threw me in a vehicle and brought me here,” he says. “All I remember is reading the word ‘Phillips’ – on some kind of CAT Scan.” Caldwell appears to have been lucky. He is being evaluated for a concussion and depending on how he responds, will be sent either to Germany for further treatment or back to his unit in Iraq. [...]
Comments For " 'They're in Good Hands'":
We owe a huge debt of gratitude and respect to all the men and women of the 332nd Expeditionary Medical Group caring for our wounded and injured sons, daughters, husbands, wives, mothers, fathers & fellow countrymen at Balad Air Base Theater Hospital. Thank you all.
Posted by: jrljr54
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May 16, 2008 2:47 PM