So as we are in the ambulance speeding to God knows where in Kuwait City I refuse to lay down on a gurney for the trip. I was very uncomfortable at the time and did not want to feel even more so by getting into a bed while moving. Maybe I am stubborn but I refused. When we arrived at the hospital I could see the several other ambulances that had brought others from the crash as well. I was put into a wheelchair and wheeled into the ER and the uncomfortable feelings strengthened as I was being seriously watched by the Kuwaitis. We went to a waiting room and I was there for a while until they got me in for x-rays. After the x-rays I was seen by a Kuwaiti Dr. that had very and I mean very limited english. Not that I expect him to know english it is just frustrating. After a ten minute exam he tells me I have a contusion in my back and sends me away. I get up out of the chair and feel the pain shoot once again but in my head I say it is a bruise and go about my business of trying to find someone to get me to my base and around some people I knew. While walking down the hall I saw a few of the other accident victims and talked to two guys whom I knew had not been injured but were with a Captain who had collapsed. I am able to find a way to get a hold of one of my superiors and to be honest I don't remember much about the next few hours since they handed me some pills from a blister pack and said take every 4 hours. Anyway a few hours later I am at Al-Jaber Air Base and was put in front a Lt. Colonel. The time was somewhere around noon and I was told I needed to call home and talk to my family since the accident was getting ready to hit the news. I told them it was midnight at home and that they would be asleep and not see the accident until later. I was instructed once again to call and I did. When I called and as all you parents know that if you child calls in the middle of the night there is a problem. So my mom answers and I tell her kind of fast and vaguely that I was in an accident and I am ok. I explained I did not know what really happened at the time and that my back was hurt but at least I was alive. I told my mom that I would call my girlfriend the next morning and for her to wait until I did that before she talked to her. Anyway I get a little sleep and call the girlfriend a few hours later which might have been about 10am here in Washington. Finally later that day I get a notice from my Commander that he wanted to see me. I go see the Commander of the base and he talks to me for like ten minutes telling me what a hero I am and that the base is going to do everything they can to help me and the others from the accident. He offers to send me back to NC instead of stay there for the 90 days. I think about it for a few minutes and decide that I would like to be home for the tour. Later that day once again I get called and have to do a debrief meeting with all the other victims and we spent a few hours talking about what we saw and heard on the C-130. It was nice to talk to these people but I was not able to really talk like I wanted to. That did not happen until later when I was able to get through to my friend who is a pilot (Earl). I finally got some relief by being able to explain to him what happened and not speak in lay mans terms about flight terms. Anyway he was the only one as well that I was fully able to tell things to since he was a friend not family that I did not feel i needed to protect from the real situation and how bad it was. ( good friends can never be replaced ) Two days later I am notified that we are going back to the airport to have a small memorial for the deceased Airman and we get to the flight line and are told that our beloved A-10s are going to fly over and do a missing man formation. I am very excited until a Chaplain who is a Colonel comes to the podium where we are getting ready to honor fallen Airman and he says over a loud speaker to go ahead and "just hang out in a loose con flab". At this point I am literally saying "what the fuck"! This is how we are showing respect. It was at that moment I realized that since we were not shot down or that the accident was not caused by an enemy that this was no big deal to the Air Force. So as I am standing there in disbelief I here the distinct sound of the A-10 coming and as a lot of us did I snapped to attention and when the Warthog flew over and the missing man went skyward. ( those that have seen this understand) After the fly over the Colonel says a few words and thanked us for coming. What a sad, sad day. So a few days later I am put on in a truck and driven back to Kuwait City International with an Airman that broke his ankle. I was put in charge of him since I was ranking and when we got dropped off at the airport and walking out onto the tarmac to get on a KC-10 we had to walk right by the wreckage. Imagine a C-130 with no landing gear sitting on pallets and gaping holes in the sides. Not an easy thing to have all those thoughts flood back in such a short time. An image I will retain forever. So after a nightmare 20 hour flight back to Baltimore I end up renting a car to get us home. Felt great to get there but I was in such pain in the next few days I could not even drive to the Dr.
A few months later when Sgt. Bolin got back I spoke to him and he related a story of the crew members who were with the Captain that night. He was told that when the ambulance arrived at the hospital they wheeled the Capt. into the ER and when they got the a room the Dr.s pronounced him dead and walked away. Not once did they attempt to resuscitate him or restore his heart beat. He had only been out of consciousness for about 10 minutes and they spent no time working on him. I come to find out later that a para rescue team had been called from the base to assist us but were called back before they arrived. These crew members who were trained on CPR worked on the Capt for 15 minutes until they were ordered to leave the hospital. Sickening, this just makes me sick to think that happened.
As for the next 6 months I am doing physical therapy and going to a Dr. They give me the ole military pill of 800 Motrins and some Tylenol 3s to help me get by. I spent months asking for an MRI to really find out my issues. I eventually get to see a joint Dr. (can't recall what they are called) and he discovers my sacroiliac joint is dislocated. ( This is a cartilage joint in your pelvis) Some treatment later and I am finally getting some relief.
A few months after my accident I am watching the news when the USS Cole was bombed and a few days later was again watching the news when they showed the honor guard removing the bodies of the dead Navy and Marine guys and lost it. I was so angry that the treatment the people received from the Air Force because it turns out it was pilot error that caused the accident. I will never be able to forgive the Air Force for this. Every soldier deserves the respect due no matter how or why they passed.
So about 6 months later I am up with my time and I get my discharge and head home to Washington. I file for VA Disability and they send me in to finally get the MRI. Turns out I have bad disks at L-4 and 5 and S-1 and 2. Pretty low in my back but still pain full. Why did they not do this months ago? I will never know.
So now here I am about 10 years later and I am living with back pain daily but I am thankfully able to function pretty much normal but still have issues now and then. The thought crosses my mind on a daily basis and the anger over the pilot gets easier to deal with too. I recently met someone who put something out there to me one day when I was telling her how angry I was at the pilot for his error and that he got off almost scott free for killing people. She said I have every right to be angry but something to think about. She said to put myself in his shoes and imagine what he must have to live with and isn't that punishment? I can never thank her enough for giving me that point of view.(Thanks Lisa)
Also to my friend Earl who was always available to talk to about it like a true friend does. An empathetic ear is always nice.
Showing posts with label Kuwait. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kuwait. Show all posts
Friday, March 13, 2009
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Healing Process
Everything I have posted on this has pretty much been related to my work. It is a huge part of my life and for the foreseeable future I cannot see me doing anything else. Tonight is going to be a bit different. December 9th and 10th for me are some of the toughest days I deal with in my year. I am going to post something that is very, very personal but I feel it is needed to help me put it behind. So here goes.
November 19, 1996 my best friend (Earl) dropped me off at Spokane international airport to leave for Air Force basic training. I spent several months in training learning how to maintain and repair the A-10A Thunderbolt II. Known to most people as the "Warthog". My first base I was stationed at was Pope Air force base in North Carolina. My squadron was the 75th Fighter Squadron, 23rd Fighter Wing. I was part of the famous "Flying Tigers" squadron.
I worked feverishly to be the best at my job and advanced fairly quickly. My squadron had a yearly rotation into Kuwait at a base called Ahmed Al-Jaber air base. I found out how much I appreciated the good ole U.S. of A. Needless to say I spent 3 months a year in the Saudi Arabian desert protecting the southern Iraq no fly zone that was sanctioned after the 1991 Gulf War. It was a lovely 20-23 hour flight around to almost exactly the other side of the world from my home in Washington State. I usually ended up working the swing shift to stay out of the 120 degree desert heat. I was really proud to be able to do my part for what I believed in.
Several rotations later and it is November 1999. My squadron flew out of Langley AFB on a C-141 to make our way to the Azores Islands off the coast of Portugal. Pretty much a typical boring flight for several hours landing in a cross wind on the island. We were there for a few days because of bad weather and when it came time to finally depart the island one of our A-10s had a maintenance issue and I and another Sgt stayed behind to repair the jet. The last thing my Lt. said to me was "when the plane is fixed find a way to Kuwait". What that meant was do what you have to do and find military transport into Kuwait and Al-Jaber AB. We were both kind of excited due to the fact we did not have to bother with so many other people and we were in a different country for part of the holiday season. We ended up fixing our aircraft two days later but were stuck with no flights out of the Azores until the 8th of December. Finally on the 8th we got a flight on a really comfy (by military standards) KC-10 Stratotanker. We flew into Sigonella NAS on the island of Sicily and stayed until the next day to hop a flight into Kuwait City. We arrived in Kuwait City as planned and called our Lt. to let him know the last leg was a 15 minute flight on a C-130 into Al-Jaber and would be there about 2200 hours (ten o'clock pm for the non-military types).
After a few hours in Kuwait City we finally began the loading process of lading into the C-130. I was in line with a few people and the weirdest feeling came over me and I stopped and let a few people ahead of me to wait for my friend. We loaded up on the plane and as usual the old Air Force motto "hurry up and wait" kicked in. We sat on the tarmac for quite a while before we took off. When we finally got airborne I was ready to get to the base and try and relax in the tent I knew I was assigned. A few minutes into the flight I was sitting in the very uncomfortable jump seats on the aircraft when I heard the hydraulics kick in and figured that it was the flaps going down on our approach. All of a sudden there was a jolt like I cannot describe with noises all around of screeching metal grinding noises. I was jarred so hard into my jump seat that it actually collapsed and the next thing I knew I was sitting directly on the floor of the airplane. There was a huge rush of air coming into the plane and several hoses that appeared to be hydraulic lines that had burst and were spraying about 2500 pounds of pressurized fluid all over the cargo hold of the plane. AS I tried to collect myself and get my bearings I looked over at my friend who was sitting almost opposite of me next to the right rear door of the aircraft. We shot each other the old O Shit look and I noticed at that time something in my lap. I grabbed the object and realized with shock that it was a schrader valve. (a vital piece of the landing gear) I held it up to my friend and at that moment noticed another Airman begin to slump over in his seat. He was about two places forward from my friend and next to a woman who noticed at the same time. The woman began to scream and several people moved to try and assist the Airman. So many things were happening all at once, and in a blur, but during about that same moment several steel pieces that had been strapped up higher on the aircraft gave way and began falling on our heads. People were getting hit by this shrapnel flying around the hold. Some people were trying to get the collapsed airman to the floor when on the opposite side of the plane a Captain collapsed, complaining that he could not feel his legs and he was having trouble breathing. Within moments another Airman was on his side screaming in pain that he could not move his legs. Absolute chaos was the order at that moment and people began yelling and screaming at all that was going on. Many people were doing all they could to help the 3 downed troops and all had to be given CPR. Once we were notified by the flight crew that we had struck the ground and were once again airborne many of us began to get upset that we had not returned to land and help the injured. Turns out we had to fly out over the Persian Gulf and dump the excess fuel and get rid of the chaff and flairs that we were carrying. 40 minutes later we were instructed to get prepared for a crash landing because it was discovered that our main landing gear had been destroyed and was laying 2800 feet shy of the runway at Al-Jaber. With the scene becoming more somber due to the reality setting in we all prepared for a harsh landing. We removed all the doors to the aircraft and strapped them down as well as pulling the escape hatches on the top and bottom of the aircraft. By this time I could hear the hydraulics screaming because all the fluid had been pumped out and the pilot was flying the plane on manual reversion. (very difficult) With all the doors open on the plane and a huge gash in the right side of the plane which I could see through we braced for a hard landing. As we approached I heard the engines slow and looked out to see us coming down to the runway. I was relieved to see foam and when we touched down it was actually the smoothest landing I had ever experienced. The pilot slammed the props into reverse and we came to a fast stop. At this point we evacuated the aircraft and made our way from the aircraft since we were afraid of fire due to the no gear landing. People began kissing the ground and hugging each other. Then all went silent as the 3 men were brought off the plane and loaded on to ambulances to go to the emergency room. The remaining ones were shuttled to the Airport hotel to figure out what to do next. (me included) When we got to the lobby we sat down and tried to fathom what the hell just happened to us. My buddy called to me to go get a drink and when I stood up my legs went out from under me with an extreme shooting pain going down the back of both my legs. My friend helped me up and got me to the medic that had arrived and put me on an ambulance to the hospital.
(part two soon)
November 19, 1996 my best friend (Earl) dropped me off at Spokane international airport to leave for Air Force basic training. I spent several months in training learning how to maintain and repair the A-10A Thunderbolt II. Known to most people as the "Warthog". My first base I was stationed at was Pope Air force base in North Carolina. My squadron was the 75th Fighter Squadron, 23rd Fighter Wing. I was part of the famous "Flying Tigers" squadron.
I worked feverishly to be the best at my job and advanced fairly quickly. My squadron had a yearly rotation into Kuwait at a base called Ahmed Al-Jaber air base. I found out how much I appreciated the good ole U.S. of A. Needless to say I spent 3 months a year in the Saudi Arabian desert protecting the southern Iraq no fly zone that was sanctioned after the 1991 Gulf War. It was a lovely 20-23 hour flight around to almost exactly the other side of the world from my home in Washington State. I usually ended up working the swing shift to stay out of the 120 degree desert heat. I was really proud to be able to do my part for what I believed in.
Several rotations later and it is November 1999. My squadron flew out of Langley AFB on a C-141 to make our way to the Azores Islands off the coast of Portugal. Pretty much a typical boring flight for several hours landing in a cross wind on the island. We were there for a few days because of bad weather and when it came time to finally depart the island one of our A-10s had a maintenance issue and I and another Sgt stayed behind to repair the jet. The last thing my Lt. said to me was "when the plane is fixed find a way to Kuwait". What that meant was do what you have to do and find military transport into Kuwait and Al-Jaber AB. We were both kind of excited due to the fact we did not have to bother with so many other people and we were in a different country for part of the holiday season. We ended up fixing our aircraft two days later but were stuck with no flights out of the Azores until the 8th of December. Finally on the 8th we got a flight on a really comfy (by military standards) KC-10 Stratotanker. We flew into Sigonella NAS on the island of Sicily and stayed until the next day to hop a flight into Kuwait City. We arrived in Kuwait City as planned and called our Lt. to let him know the last leg was a 15 minute flight on a C-130 into Al-Jaber and would be there about 2200 hours (ten o'clock pm for the non-military types).
After a few hours in Kuwait City we finally began the loading process of lading into the C-130. I was in line with a few people and the weirdest feeling came over me and I stopped and let a few people ahead of me to wait for my friend. We loaded up on the plane and as usual the old Air Force motto "hurry up and wait" kicked in. We sat on the tarmac for quite a while before we took off. When we finally got airborne I was ready to get to the base and try and relax in the tent I knew I was assigned. A few minutes into the flight I was sitting in the very uncomfortable jump seats on the aircraft when I heard the hydraulics kick in and figured that it was the flaps going down on our approach. All of a sudden there was a jolt like I cannot describe with noises all around of screeching metal grinding noises. I was jarred so hard into my jump seat that it actually collapsed and the next thing I knew I was sitting directly on the floor of the airplane. There was a huge rush of air coming into the plane and several hoses that appeared to be hydraulic lines that had burst and were spraying about 2500 pounds of pressurized fluid all over the cargo hold of the plane. AS I tried to collect myself and get my bearings I looked over at my friend who was sitting almost opposite of me next to the right rear door of the aircraft. We shot each other the old O Shit look and I noticed at that time something in my lap. I grabbed the object and realized with shock that it was a schrader valve. (a vital piece of the landing gear) I held it up to my friend and at that moment noticed another Airman begin to slump over in his seat. He was about two places forward from my friend and next to a woman who noticed at the same time. The woman began to scream and several people moved to try and assist the Airman. So many things were happening all at once, and in a blur, but during about that same moment several steel pieces that had been strapped up higher on the aircraft gave way and began falling on our heads. People were getting hit by this shrapnel flying around the hold. Some people were trying to get the collapsed airman to the floor when on the opposite side of the plane a Captain collapsed, complaining that he could not feel his legs and he was having trouble breathing. Within moments another Airman was on his side screaming in pain that he could not move his legs. Absolute chaos was the order at that moment and people began yelling and screaming at all that was going on. Many people were doing all they could to help the 3 downed troops and all had to be given CPR. Once we were notified by the flight crew that we had struck the ground and were once again airborne many of us began to get upset that we had not returned to land and help the injured. Turns out we had to fly out over the Persian Gulf and dump the excess fuel and get rid of the chaff and flairs that we were carrying. 40 minutes later we were instructed to get prepared for a crash landing because it was discovered that our main landing gear had been destroyed and was laying 2800 feet shy of the runway at Al-Jaber. With the scene becoming more somber due to the reality setting in we all prepared for a harsh landing. We removed all the doors to the aircraft and strapped them down as well as pulling the escape hatches on the top and bottom of the aircraft. By this time I could hear the hydraulics screaming because all the fluid had been pumped out and the pilot was flying the plane on manual reversion. (very difficult) With all the doors open on the plane and a huge gash in the right side of the plane which I could see through we braced for a hard landing. As we approached I heard the engines slow and looked out to see us coming down to the runway. I was relieved to see foam and when we touched down it was actually the smoothest landing I had ever experienced. The pilot slammed the props into reverse and we came to a fast stop. At this point we evacuated the aircraft and made our way from the aircraft since we were afraid of fire due to the no gear landing. People began kissing the ground and hugging each other. Then all went silent as the 3 men were brought off the plane and loaded on to ambulances to go to the emergency room. The remaining ones were shuttled to the Airport hotel to figure out what to do next. (me included) When we got to the lobby we sat down and tried to fathom what the hell just happened to us. My buddy called to me to go get a drink and when I stood up my legs went out from under me with an extreme shooting pain going down the back of both my legs. My friend helped me up and got me to the medic that had arrived and put me on an ambulance to the hospital.
(part two soon)
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