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  The Last Full Measure
Posted by: Walt's Daughter - 07-06-2005, 08:15 PM - Forum: Current Events - No Replies


Sent to me by Al Kincer, 48th Combat Engineer

 

----------------------------------------------------------------

 

From Air Force medical personnel working in Iraq. I doubt you will see this in the network news or major newspapers!

 

 

"The Last Full Measure"

 

By Col. Brett Wyrick USAF

 

- The first rule of war is that young men and women die. The second rule of war is that surgeons cannot change the first rule.

 

We had already done around a dozen surgical cases in the morning and the early afternoon. The entire medical staff had a professional meeting to discuss the business of the hospital and the care and treatment of burns.

 

It is not boastful or arrogant when I tell you that some of the best surgeons in the world were present - I have been to many institutions, and I have been all around the world, and at this point in time, with this level of experience, the best in the world are assembled here at Balad.

 

LTC Dave S., the Trauma Czar, and a real American hero is present. He has saved more people out here than anyone can imagine. The cast of characters includes two Air Force Academy graduates, Col (s) Joe W. and Maj. Max L. When you watch ER on television, the guys on the show are trying to be like Max - cool, methodical and professional. Max never misses anything on a trauma case because he sees everything on a patient and notes it the same way the great NFL running backs see the entire playing field when they are carrying the ball.

 

Joe is an ENT surgeon who is tenacious, bright, and technically correct every single time - I mean every single time. The guy has a lower tolerance for variance than NASA. LTC (s) Chris C. was the Surgeon of the Day

(SOD), and I was the back-up SOD. Everyone else was there and available - as I said the best in the world.

 

As the meeting was breaking up, the call came in.

 

An American soldier had been injured in an IED blast north of here, and he was in a bad way with head trauma. The specifics were fuzzy, but after three months here, what would need to be done was perfectly clear - the

332nd Expeditionary Medical Group readied for battle. All the surgeons started to gravitate toward the PLX which is the surgeons' ready room and centrally located midway to the ER, OR and radiology.

 

The lab personnel checked precious units of blood, and the pharmacy made ready all the medications and drugs we would need for the upcoming fight. An operating room was cleared, and surgical instruments were laid out, the anesthesia circuits were switched over, and the gasses were checked and rechecked. An anesthesiologist and two nurse anesthetists went over the plan of action as the OR supervisor made the personnel assignments.

 

In the ER, bags of IV fluids were carefully hung, battery packs were checked, and the ER nursing supervisor looked over the equipment to make sure all was in working order and the back-ups were ready just in case the primaries failed. The radiology techs moved forward in their lead gowns bringing their portable machines like artillery men of old wheeling their cannon into place. Respiratory therapy set the mechanical ventilator, and double-checked the oxygen. Gowns, gloves, boots, and masks were donned by those who would be directly in the battle.

 

America can bring to the war - were in place and ready along with the best skill and talent from techs to surgeons. The two neurosurgeons gathered by themselves to plan. LTC A. is a neurosurgeon who still wears his pilot wings proudly. He used to be a T-38 instructor pilot, and some of the guys he trained to fly are now flying F-16s right here at Balad. He is good with his hands and calm under pressure. The other neurosurgeon is Maj. W., a gem of a surgeon who could play the guitar professionally if he was not dedicated to saving lives. A long time ago, at a place on the other side of the world called Oklahoma, I operated on his little brother after a car accident and helped to save his life. The two neurosurgeons, Chris, and I joined for the briefing. Although I was the ranking officer of the group, Chris was the SOD and would be the flight lead. If this was a fighter sweep, all three of those guys would be Weapons School Patch wearers.

 

The plan was for me and the ER folks to assess treat and stabilize the patient as rapidly as possible to get the guy into the hands of the neurosurgeons. The intel was that this was an IED blast, and those rarely come with a single, isolated injury. It makes no sense to save the guy's brain if you have not saved the heart pump that brings the oxygenated blood to the brain. With this kind of trauma, you must be deliberate and methodical, and you must be deliberate and methodical in a pretty damn big hurry.

 

All was ready, and we did not have to wait very long. The approaching rotors of a Blackhawk were heard, and Chris and I moved forward to the ER followed by several sets of surgeons' eyes as we went. We have also learned not to clog up the ER with surgeons giving orders. One guy runs the code, and the rest follow his instructions or stay out the way until they are needed.

 

They wheeled the soldier into the ER on a NATO gurney shortly after the chopper touched down. One look at the PJs' faces told me that the situation was grim. Their young faces were drawn and tight, and they moved with a sense of directed urgency. They did not even need to speak because the look in their eyes was pleading with us - hurry. And hurry we did.

 

In a flurry of activity that would seem like chaos to the uninitiated, many things happened simultaneously. Max and I received the patient as Chris watched over the shoulder to pick out anything that might be missed. An initial survey indicated a young soldier with a wound to the head, and several other obvious lacerations on the extremities.

 

Max called out the injuries as they were found, and one of the techs wrote them down. The C-collar was checked, the chest was auscultated as the ET tube was switched to the ventilator. Chris took the history from the PJs because the patient was not conscious. All the wounds were examined and the dressings were removed except for the one on the head.

 

The patient was rolled on to his side while his neck was stabilized by my hands, and Max examined the backside from the toes to the head. When we rolled the patient back over, it was onto an X-ray plate that would allow us to take the chest X-Ray immediately. The first set of vitals revealed a low blood pressure; fluid would need to be given, and it appeared as though the peripheral vascular system was on the verge of collapse.

 

I called the move as experienced hands rolled him again for the final survey of the back and flanks and the X-Ray plate was removed and sent for development. As we positioned him for the next part of the trauma examination, I noted that the hands that were laid on this young man were Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, American Indian, Australian, Army, Air Force, Marine, Man, Woman, Young and Older: a true cross-section of our effort here in Iraq, but there was not much time to reflect.

 

The patient needed fluid resuscitation fast, and there were other things yet to be done. Chris watched the initial survey and the secondary survey with a situational awareness that comes from competence and experience. Chris is never flustered, never out of ideas, and his pulse is never above fifty.

 

With a steady, calm, and re-assuring voice, he directed the next steps to be taken. I moved down to the chest to start a central line, Max began an ultrasonic evaluation of the abdomen and pelvis. The X-rays and ultrasound examination were reviewed as I sewed the line in place, and it was clear to Chris that the young soldier's head was the only apparent life-threatening injury.

 

The two neurosurgeons came forward, and removed the gauze covering the soldier's wounded head, and everyone's heart sank as we saw the blossom of red blood spreading out from shredded white and grey matter of the brain. Experience told all the surgeons present that there was no way to survive the injury, and this was one battle the Medical Group was going to lose. But he was American, and it was not time to quit, yet.

 

Gentle pressure was applied over the wound, and the patient went directly to the CT scanner as drugs and fluids were pumped into the line to keep his heart and lungs functioning in a fading hope to restore the brain. The time elapsed from his arrival in the ER to the time he was in the CT scanner was five minutes.

 

The CT scan confirmed what we had feared. The wounds to the brain were horrific and mortal, and there was no way on earth to replace the volume of tissue that had been blasted away by the explosion. The neurosurgeons looked at the scan, they looked at the scan a second time, and then they re-examined the patient to confirm once again.

 

The OR crew waited anxiously outside the doors of radiology in the hope they would be utilized, but Chris, LTCs A and S., and Maj W. all agreed. There was no brain activity whatsoever. The chaplain came to pray, and reluctantly, the vent was turned from full mechanical ventilation to flow by. He had no hint of respiratory activity, his heart that had beat so strongly early in the day ceased to beat forever, and he was pronounced dead.

 

The pumps were turned off; the machines were stopped, and the IVs were discontinued. Respectful quiet remained, and it was time to get ready for the next round of casualties. The techs and nurses gently moved the body over to the back of the ER to await mortuary services. And everyone agreed there was nothing more we could have done.

 

When it was quiet, there was time to really look at the young soldier and see him as he was. Young, probably in his late teens, with not an ounce of fat anywhere. His muscles were powerful and well defined, and in death, his face was pleasant and calm.

 

I am always surprised that anyone still has tears to shed here at Balad, but thank God they still do. The nurses and techs continued to care for him and do what they could. Not all the tubes and catheters can be removed because there is always a forensic investigation to be done at Dover AFB, but the nurses took out the lines they could. Fresh bandages were placed over the wounds, and the blood clots were washed from his hair as his wound was covered once more. His hands and feet were washed with care. A broken toenail was trimmed, and he was silently placed in the body bag when mortuary services arrived as gently as if they were tucking him into bed.

 

Later that night was Patriot Detail - our last goodbye for an American hero. All the volunteers gathered at Base Ops after midnight under a three-quarter moon that was partially hidden by high, thin clouds. There was only silence as the chief master sergeant gave the Detail its instructions. Soldiers, Airmen, and Marines, colonels, privates and sergeants, pilots, gunners, mechanics, surgeons and clerks all marched out side-by-side to the back of the waiting transport, and presently, the flag-draped coffin was carried through the cordon as military salutes were rendered.

 

The Detail marched back from the flight line, and slowly the doors of the big transport were secured. The chaplain offered prayers for anyone who wanted to participate, and then the group broke up as the people started to move away into the darkness. The big engines on the transport fired up, and the ground rumbled for miles as they took the runway. His duty was done - he had given the last full measure, and he was on his way home.

 

The first rule of war is that young men and women die. The second rule of war is that surgeons cannot change the first rule. I think the third rule of war should be that those who have given their all for our freedom are never forgotten, and they are always honored.

 

I wish there was not a war, and I wish our young people did not have to fight and die. But I cannot wish away evil men like Bin Laden and al-Zarqawi. These men are not wayward children who have gone astray; they are not great men who are simply misunderstood.

 

These are cold-blooded killers and they will kill you, me, and everyone we love and hold dear if we do not kill them first. You cannot reason with these people, you cannot negotiate with these people, and this war will not be over until they are dead. That is the ugly, awful, and brutal truth.

 

I wish the situation was different, but it is not. Americans have two choices. They can run from the threat, deny it exists, candy-coat it, debate it, and hope it goes away. And then, Americans will be fair game around the world and slaughtered by the thousands for the sheep they have become.

 

Our second choice is to crush these evil men where they live and for us to have the political will and courage to finish what we came over here to do. The last thing we need here in Iraq is an exit strategy or some damn timetable for withdrawal. Thank God there was no timetable for withdrawal after the Battle of the Bulge or Iwo Jima. Thank God there was no exit strategy at Valley Forge. Freedom is not easy, and it comes with a terrible price - I saw the bill here yesterday.

 

The third rule of war should be that we never forget the sacrifices made by our young men and women, and we always honor them. We honor them by finishing what they came to accomplish. We remember them by never quitting and having the backbone and the guts to never bend to the yoke of oppression.

 

We honor them and remember them by having the courage to live free.

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  engineer songs and poems Essayons
Posted by: Walt's Daughter - 07-06-2005, 06:49 PM - Forum: WWII ENGINEERS - Replies (5)


THE U.S. ARMY CORPS OF ENGINEERS BRANCH SONG:

 

"ESSAYONS"

 

Essayons, sound out the battle cry

Essayons, we'll win or we'll die

Essayons, there's nothing we won't try..

We're the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers..

Pin the castle on my collar

I've done my training for the team.

You can call me an engineer soldier,

The warrior spirit has been my dream

We are builders, we are fighters!

We are destroyers just as well

There've been doubters who met with the sappers..

And then we blew them all straight to hell

Our brothers fighting on the battlefield

Look to us to point the way

We get there first and then we take the risks

To build the roads and the air strips

And bridge the mighty river streams

We don't care who gets the glory

We're sure of one thing, this we know

Somewhere out there an engineer soldier

Designed the plan for the whole darn show

Essayons whether in war or peace

We will bear our red and our white

Essayons we serve America

And the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers..

Essayons!!

Essayons!!

 

-----------------

 

Chorus: (Sung after each verse)

 

We are, we are, we are, we are, the Combat ENGINEER'S

we can, we can, we can, we can, demolish forty beers

Drink up, drink up, drink up, drink up and come along with us

For we don’t give a damn, for any Old Man, who don’t give a damn for us - Hey

 

Verses:

 

Now Venus is a statue made entirely out of stone,

She hasn't a fig leaf on her – she is naked to the bone.

On seeing that her arms we gone, two ENGINEERS discoursed,

Of course the darn thing's broken and should be reinforced!

 

An ENGINEER and a tanker once found a gallon can

Said the tanker to the ENGINEER "Out drink me if you can!"

The tanker took three drinks and died, his face was turning green.

But the ENGINEER kept drinking, it was only gasoline.

 

Godiva was a lady who through Coventry did ride,

Showing all the villagers her lovely, lily hide

The most observant fellow was an ENGINEER of course,

Was the only one to notice that Godiva rode a horse!

 

I've come a long, long way she said and I'll go as long and far

with the man who'll help me off my horse and lead me to a bar

The men who helped her off her horse and stood her to a beer,

Were a bleary-eyed surveyor and a drunken ENGINEER!

 

My father was a miner on the upper Malamute,

My mother was a hostess in a house of ill repute.

When I was only sixteen years, she shouted loud and clear

Get out of the house, become a man, and join the ENGINEERS!

 

Julius Caesar went to Egypt at the age of 53

Cleopatra’s blood was warm, her heart was young and free

But every night when Julie left her house at 3 o’clock

There was a Roman Engineer awaiting just around the block

 

Sir Francis Drake and all his men put out for Misery Bay

They heard the Spanish Rum Fleet was heading out that way

But the Engineers had beat them by a night and half a day

And though as drunk as hooligans you still could hear them say

 

The Air Force and the Navy came to town to have some fun

Down to the taverns where the fiery liquors run

But all they found was broken glass, the Engineers had come

And traded junk filled demo bags for gallon kegs of rum

 

We lay down all their rolling roads and cut down all their trees

And if the order ever comes, we’d forge the raging seas

When ever they want to sleep awhile, we put them up a town

And we build the blasted bridges so the Infantry won’t drown

 

We put them over rivers and across the mountain streams

Do everything but tuck them in and wish them pleasant dreams

And when the going’s really tough, and shells do burst our ears

The whole Division’s apt to say, GOD, SEND THE ENGINEERS

 

We build and blow your bridges and fix your roads up too,

There aren't too many things in life an ENGINEER can't do.

You never seem to need us 'til your minds are filled with fear,

Then the first thing that you call for are the Combat ENGINEERS.

 

We plan and guard your barriers, and we build your bunkers too,

And each and every war we prove what the ENGINEERS can do.

For in the thick of every fight, the cry has been for years

Come clear the pass, and save our ass, you Combat ENGINEERS.

 

-------------

 

ENGINEERS POEM

 

 

We lay down their rolling roads

And cut down all the trees;

And if the orders ever came,

We'd forge the raging seas.

 

Whenever they want to sleep awhile

We put them up a town,

And we build the blasted bridges

So the Infantry won't drown.

 

We get them over rivers

And across mountain streams

Do everything but tuck them in

And wish them pleasant dreams;

 

And when the going's really rough

And bombs burst in their ears,

A whole division is apt to pray,

"God, send the Engineers!"

 

---------------------

 

THE CORPS OF ENGINEERS POEM

 

 

They've a song about the Army

The Navy and Marines:

They've got one for the Air Force

The whole darn works it seems.

 

But they've never taken trouble

Though we've served them all for years,

To write a verse or two

For the Corps of Engineers.

 

We build their roads and airfields

Their pipelines and their camps,

From underground munitions dumps

To concrete loading ramps.

 

Before the others get there

We had to break the ground,

And we built it all to suit their needs

Solid, safe and sound.

 

But the ENGINEERS aren't kicking

For when their moving in,

We know it's just another place

Where we've already been.

 

If the Army and the Navy

Ever look on Heaven's scene,

'Tis said the streets will be patrolled

By United States Marines.

 

Now who will guard the streets up there

We aren't disposed to say,

But we offer this suggestion

If they look at things that way:

 

When the Marines have taken over

In that land that knows no years,

They'll find it designed and built

By the Corps of Engineers!

 

-------------------

 

THE REGIMENTAL TOAST

 

HERE'S A HEALTH TO THE ARMY.

AND HERE'S A HEALTH TO OUR CORPS;

HERE'S TO THE FLAG FLYING UP ON THE HILL,

AND THE BIRD FLYING OVER OUR DOOR:

STAND BY WITH YOUR GLASSES ALL BRIMMING,

HERE'S HEALTH, AND HERE'S HOW, AND HERE'S LUCK.

AND HERE'S TO THE CASTLES OF SILVER WE WEAR.

AND "THE EAGLE THAT LOOKS LIKE A DUCK."

 

This toast was first raised in the fall of 1898 after the Spanish American War by a young Engineer officer at the officers' mess at Fort Totten, (now known as Willets Point), on Long Island, New York. The toast mentions the flag which is the American Flag flown at the Post Headquarters. The "bird flying over the door" and the "eagle that looks like a duck" refer to the relief carving of the crest taken from the seal of the Corps of Engineers. This crest consisted of an eagle, mounted above a banner inscribed with the Engineer Motto "ESSAYONS." Surrounding the eagle and banner was a wreath of oak and laurel branches, oak symbolizing strength and laurel symbolizing accomplishment. Today, this wooden carving resides in the Engineer Museum's Regimental Room, Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.

 

Thanks to: Captain Christopher J. Doniec United States Army Corps of Engineers

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  Walter M. Hazel Engineer in pacific during ww2.
Posted by: Monty - 07-06-2005, 03:53 PM - Forum: WWII ENGINEERS - Replies (1)


Hi,

Can anyone help me find out anything about my grandpa's unit. He is older now and still won't tell anyone what he did. It just would be nice to know what he did in the war. He is in an engineer unit and there is a number 5 with it somewhere on his enlistment papers. I couldn't read them too well. He served in New Guinea I think. In the Pacific my mom says.

 

THanks for any help,

AMY

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  RIP Admiral James Stockdale
Posted by: bearlee - 07-06-2005, 11:36 AM - Forum: General discussion - Replies (1)


I would just like to mention th epassing of Admiral James Stockdale on Monday in California.

 

May he rest in peace and my condolences to his family and friends.

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  Bill Vanderwall 540th Combat Engineer
Posted by: Walt's Daughter - 07-05-2005, 05:28 PM - Forum: WWII ENGINEERS - No Replies


Until I get Bill's page up and running, I'd like to unveil his interview questions here for all of you. Bill did a fantastic job answering ALL the questions that I sent to him and it's given me more insight into his background and my dad's unit, the 540th Combat Engineers.

 

The following is presented in Adobe Reader format. Please note that is is quite lengthy, so depending on your Internet connection, it may take a while to download.

 

Thanks Bill for all your help and I look forward to meeting you in person this summer.

 

:pdt20:

Bill_Vander_Wall_Q_A.pdf



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