His Lieutenant was tall athletic and had the pedigree: his father was a General. The Sergeant was from somewhere like Kansas, Nebraska or Iowa. He shopped at Wal-Mart as did his whole family. The Lieutenant's family drove by Wal-Marts.
They were on a mission outside of FOB Fenty. Their medic was hit and killed. The Lieutentant was shot in the neck and their radio man went down. The Sergeant picked up the radio and called in the attack. He gave his units coordinates, the condition of the soldiers along with their terrain. He did this while returning fire. His forces were outmanned, temporarily out gunned and surrounded
The next day in Bagram at the First Sergeants meeting the Sergeant Major brought up the work of an unknown soldier praising both his effort and professionalism in battle.
He walked into our office two days later. He was a freckled face kid that would have been a second string lineman on his high school football team. He was the person you never really see unless he is under the hood of your car helping you. A bullet ricocheted off his weapon cutting up the side of his face. He would have some facial scars but nothing severe. In the hospital, they gave him one percodan and a bottle of Motrin. He and the Lieutenant were inseparable now.
The Lieutenant was quiet, reserved and didn’t talk about the attack. The Sergeant couldn’t stop talking about it. He talked about the sounds and how bullets snap as they pass you. How things slowed up and then went high speed. For three days they were part of the life at the Red Cross office. No one says, “Goodbye” people are just gone. We waited for them to come by when we heard the Sergeant and the Lieutenant left for Germany. The best way to see Afghanistan is the rear view mirror or 20,000 ft up.
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