He Lay Down His Life... Godspeed

Camp Liberty, Iraq

My eyes flutter open. A dream involving an ocean, my wife and girls, and an incredibly large, expensive yacht slowly fades as my eyes adjust to the dusty, brown paneling on the wall to my right. Oh yes...

the brown paneling

in the 10 by 14 two man trailer room

encased within the 10 foot tall stone monolith barricades

surrounded by walkways of large rounded rock

across the street from the 10 soldier Combat Stress Liberty "Fitness" clinic

within the 50,000 soldier United States Army Camp Liberty

on the western banks of the Baghdad metropolis

Iraq

There will be no family time on an ocean yacht today, though my heart aches to wrap my arms around the warmth of my girls, wife, Miranda, and daughters Hannah, 8, and Gracie 5, a mission awaits.

I'm walking to work with my Psychiatrist and Psychologist colleagues to address some of the most intense client psychological reactions to stress than I have witnessed in my career as a mental health provider, that of soldiers returning from "crossing the wire", and journeying into a 360 degree battlefield. That coffee can turned towards their HUMMWV on those steps to the right may not contain coffee. It may instead have been packed with C4 by the determined hands of an extremist operative, with the opening capped with a concave piece of forged metal such as copper, creating an EFP (Explosively Formed Penetrator) after detonation. The copper, once propelled becomes a liquid bullet, able to penetrate their vehicle, their armor... themselves.

I meet up with Private Stevens (pseudonym) at the clinic. He appears to be a high school senior, and in fact was just five months ago. Private Stevens has brown hair, ruddy good looks, and a solid frame. He, like many here, is an infantryman... but something is amiss. He extends his hand to greet me respectfully. "Hello sir, I'm here to talk about some things that happened to me". His words are forming, but the left side of his mouth, and much of the inner half of his cheek muscles are not moving. He continues, "I was in the rocket blast, Sir", the one that hit two weeks ago at the DFAC?", he summarizes matter of factly. Not wanting to stop the momentum of his story only to inform I had arrived a mere 5 days ago, I nod interestingly for him to continue. We sit together. "I just remember the flash... and... it knocked me off of my feet backwards onto the ground". I saw stars, and heard ringing, I remember that, but I wouldn't let it stop me. It's not the way I was raised, Sir, just to lie down and die, because I saw all those fallen wounded around me. I stood up to it. Like my dad would. Like grandad would. I helped the wounded like I was taught, Sir. I helped them have a change at life". As he spoke, a far off look appeared in his eyes. "Suddenly, I knew then that something was wrong with me. Something was very wrong". PVT Stevens would find after evaluation that he suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI), a mild concussion, something more and more common in soldiers within this conflict finding themselves face to face with explosions. Within my own mind, I imagine this soldier with a mild concussion, shaking off the stars and screeching shrils in his ears... grabbing his issued first aid kit, and tending to the physical wounds of those who lay around him. I remember having just read of the mid-October rocket attack on Camp Victory just across the Bridge and over the lake which my "PAD" or block of trailers and barricades sat.

The Associated Press BAGHDAD Oct 11, 2007 (AP)
A rocket or mortar attack on the main U.S. base near Baghdad killed two members of the U.S.-led coalition forces and wounded 40 people, the military said Thursday.
The attack occurred Wednesday at the Camp Victory, a sprawling garrison that houses the headquarters of American forces in Iraq, according to a statement.
Two coalition force members were killed and 38 wounded, the military said. It also said two "third country nationals" were wounded. It did not identity them further, but military spokesman Lt. Col. Rudolph Burwell said the term usually refers to foreign contractors and not Iraqis or Americans.
The attack is under investigation, the statement said.
Most troops stationed at Camp Victory are American but other coalition soldiers are based at the complex near Baghdad International Airport. No further details on the attack were immediately released.
Camp Victory and other U.S. bases in Iraq have frequently come under fire, but attacks with such a large number of casualties are rare.

As I sit with Stevens, I imagine that I have taken a giant microscope to one of the news stories that we as Americans are so inundated with during this conflict "13 soldiers die in weekend IED attacks in Mosul province", "24 soldiers ambushed by insurgent gunfire in Ramadi".

Here with me, more than just "Oct. 11 Camp Victory mortar attack wounds 40", is Sergeant Stevens, one of the 40 wounded, one of the many selfless, courageous, respectful, and DUTIFUL soldiers I have met in the past five years serving as a combat stress officer. I grow frustrated within me at the media for the big picture death tolls... for the stories they've chosen not to print... "Today's Hero, PVT Stevens, fights falling unconscious, clinging to the wisdom of his patriarchs, risking eminent death from a second rocket, to care for his wounded fallen comrades". More at 11. Rather than spread fear and sadness through the reporting of death tolls and pending attacks, zooming in on the details of stories like PVT Stevens would allow for the reader to experience the raw emotions of hope, admiration, love, and even tears of joy for the strength and perserverence of the human spirit.

After this long day, at 1700, it is dusk. I make my way towards PAD 11, across the dusty road of Camp Liberty, waiting with reverant patience as 5 armored HUMMWV's (HUM-vees) pass filled each with 5 18 year old privates. Four seated beneath, one gunner stands above, his head extended just above the top hatch, behind his M2 .50 caliber machine gun. Several young faces turn to me, this lone medical officer, as they prepare to "cross the wire", into the unknown... their night mission. One boyish man not more than 18, through the small bullet proof glass window of his 300 pound HUMMWV door nods a respectful nod in my direction, his eyes wide with expectation, fear, adrenaline? I return the nod... displaying the mutual connectiveness that we are two soldiers sharing a common experience in an alternate reality we may never fully understand, but have grown to accept the inevitability of our place within it. I watch the dust trail from his vehicle as it nears the north exit gate bordering the city streets where urban warfare is waged. "Godspeed", I whisper under my breath in their direction.

"Godspeed".

The verse comes to me easily... for it evidenced by every young soul that walks briskly kicking up dust in this place... the largest Forward Operating Base in the world... Camp Liberty and Camp Victory.

12My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. 14You are my friends if you do what I command.

John 15:12-14 (New International Version)

No wonder heroes like these men strike a chord of warmth, joy, and peace... it is reminscent of the sacrifice and selflessness and courage of another friend.. another who gave his life so others may live, too, when he, like Stevens was hurting, and scared, but yet pulled himself up to the cross.

His name is Jesus.

I pray this prayer tonight...

May the angels protect you, young men and women, as you go out tonight in the spirit of your maker. May you not be one of the 135,374 lives lost, but one of the hundreds and thousands of faces that triumph over this time of adversity with a story to tell, and a song to sing. Godspeed.

CPT Atkins

Camp Liberty

Iraq

There's Power in the Blood

As I climb the chipped concrete steps to enter the troop medical clinic, down the dusty road roars the white school bus, filled with what I know to be 44 soldiers all in the pixelated digital print of the ACU (Army Combat Uniform). The print appears as if the designers became inspired while staring at a magnified image of a television or computer monitor.

What happened next was moving, and incredibly thought provoking at the same time. The minute the soldiers exited the bus, I knew they were DEmobilizing, or returning from combat, as opposed to mobilizing like many of the hundreds at this location. The first tell tale sign was the almost stonewashed whiteness of their ACU's, a dozen shades whiter than than the brown and green pixel pattern... theirs now barely able to see the pixels themselves past the light shades in the fabric. Their eyes wider than ours who had grown accustomed to the preparatory routine, as they were alert to their surroundings, excited to see their families after 12, some of them 18 months away, most with the hyper-altertness of combat still with them, as they prepare to transition from the battlemind to the civilian mindset.

I hold the door for them... it's the least I could do for these young men.. or boys to men as they have become over the past several years of their 18-20 years. Soldiers file by, rendering a crisp salute to this lone officer, greeting with a "morning, sir", or "thank you, sir".

One soldier halts the line. One thing in the military you seldomly do in mass movements is stop a line.. it halts progress, causes others to wait, hinders the mission at hand. Something was more important than this unspoken rule.

"Please take this, Sir", as he urgently thrusts a silver package into my hand.. as it falls from a return salute to the man who passed before him. Tears well in his eyes, as he explains why. "Sir, this might save your life, and if not, it might save your buddy's life.. if you've crossed the wire.. downrange... got to stop the bleedin'... and this will do it... use it, Sir". I looked to the men behind him, they nodded agreeably, a sense of such urgency on their face. I looked to their left arm, which housed their unit patch, and I quickly identified the badge of crossed rifles as an infantry unit. These men were 11Bravos, the MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) for "rifle infantryman". They had seen action, and as a result knew how to stay alert to stay alive, and knew the medical means by which to survive should they come under attack.

I quickly uttered a "thank you, Soldier"... and continued on, believing that what I held in my hand had saved one of his friend's lives. Later that evening, I researched this silver, vacuum packed 10cm by 10cm HemCon bandage that was handed to me...and quickly learned of this miraculous battlefield medical discovery...

I read from a Popular Science story on the bandage:

Half of all deaths on the battlefield are due to uncontrollable bleeding. And though gauze is often no match for spurting wounds, the bloodthirsty HemCon Bandage is: It contains positively charged chitosan molecules, extracted from shrimp shells, that attract negatively charged red blood cells. As the cells are pulled into the bandage, they create a tight-fitting plug over the wound. "You can have a hole in your heart and 60 seconds later it's sealed," says HemCon inventor Kenton Gregory. The bandage made its debut in the 2003 Iraq war and was FDA-approved for nonprescription use in August. At $100 for a 4-by-4-inch square, it may sound expensive, but if the situation calls for it, we're guessing it'll seem like a serious bargain

The day after my encounter with the soldier I receive a medical training on saving lives in combat.. and of course the bandage was premiered...where a video was played showing the bandage clotting a several inch wide, deep wound in the thigh of a pig, profusely spurting blood . Within 1 minute, as the story had informed, with the HemCon bandage packed in the hole, no blood whatsoever exited the wound.

As with many things lately, the story immediately had spiritual implications, aside from the fact that the shells of these small water scavengers, crafted by God, held such life saving properties.

We are hemorrhaging as sinners, and when our flesh is in charge and our worst side comes forward, those around us can be looking at us with the urgency and wide-eyed concern that those soldiers showed to me as we talked together. However, like the soldiers, their faces relaxed, and a peace came about them as soon as the answer was referenced and clutched in their lead soldier's hand in that silver package. The miracle bandage that would stop the bleeding, that would save us from our hemorrhaging wound in such a drastic and critical life-saving way that we must share this miracle with others... even complete strangers is within the grasp of any who would choose to live life and live life more abundantly.

Jesus is our miraculous, share with a stranger, keeps us from certain death, got to have with us at all times.. and like the HemCon Bandage.... we were bought at a very high price.

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.1 Peter 2:23-25

By his wounds we are healed because he took our sins into his body on that tree. What a savior.. what a friend...what a miraculous, urgent message we must share with the world.

We can't keep this life-saving information to ourselves...

It's time for us to start sharing Jesus. With urgency.

13 hour flight to Iraq tomorrow. I'm taking my HemCon Bandage with me. I'm taking Jesus with me. Both will save lives.

There's power in the blood,

CPT Atkins

Brought through the fire

I have prayed a prayer that each day the Lord would bring one person into my life who I could either share God's love with, or I could connect with in a spiritual manner. God introduced me to Special Forces soldier Specialist Abraham on Monday, October 15, after a long day of IED training "aka How to Identify Improvised Explosive Devises in things such as coffee cans, animal carcases, or in planted in actual curbsides".

As I stood there with this one lone soldier outside the Warrior Inn Dining Facility at Ft. Benning, we realized we had missed the 1800 (6:00 p.m.) cutoff for dinner. Realized that he struggled walking with one crutch supporting his right side, I asked what had happened to him. At that moment, a van pulled up with "WTB" on the side. I knew then that he belonged to the Warrior Transition Battallion... a group of courageous soldiers, the "Wounded Warriors", some amputees, some haven taken bullets in firefights. He invited me to join him for dinner, as we journeyed to another facility open later.

Specialist Abraham informed immediately that Jesus had rescued him from what should've been certain death. Originally from Turkey, he knew the language of the people of Iraq, and was assigned to a Special Operations unit conducting searches of homes suspected to harbor insurgents throughout the country. On one mission just after dusk, his small unit stumbled across an "IED Factory", which was essentially a bomb making facility in a home in suburban Iraq led to by an informant. After Abraham informed the home's occupants to "Leave the Home Immediately, by order of the United States Military", five AK-47's popped from the windows of the home and opened fire on Abraham and his fellow soldiers. A round immediately went directly through his knee. Suddenly he could not feel his leg... and realized he had been shot. Since then, Abraham has returned home, able to walk while assisted with his crutch, and in physical therapy, counseling for post traumatic stress following the incident, as well as consulting with a speech therapist on stuttering that has begun since the event. As Abraham continued to speak about God's goodness, one part stands out above all others. "I was Muslim for 14 years, and Allah never did anything to reach me... no matter if I made the pilgrimage to Mecca, or no matter what food I sacrificed for Ramadan, but when I gave my heart to Jesus four years ago, God immediately gave me a big hug, and without asking anything from me but my heart, has given me the most beautiful peace I or my family has ever known".

I finished dinner with Abraham, and wished him well. I know that God has stories to tell through these brave men and women... stories of faith, of courage, of hope, survival, and the protective hand of an Almighty Savior.

All throughout our American communities there are men and women who have powerful testimonies to share with us and supercharge our Christian walk... look for that person today and you might be surprised who you encounter!!

Acts 1:7-9 (New International Version)

7He said to them: "It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. 8But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
9After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.

In His Peace,

CPT Atkins

Three Months Later... An Awakening...

With my overseas deployment halted to address a medical condition... I found myself the last several months in an interesting position... working for the Army full time out of Nashville, Tennessee conducting mental health assessments on soldiers having returned from Iraq... as well as assisting within a Mobilization Team sending additional medical units into the country. Much was learned, as more and more soldiers were assisted along their journey preparing to heal the other soldiers over there, or in assisting soldiers themselves to heal psychologically after their time of service had come to a close.

As I write this, I sit in the Conus Replacement Center at Ft. Benning, Georgia, a short drive west of Atlanta. I will enter Iraq soon... my Combat Stress mission will be the same, however now there is a new perspective that I have... vocationally... socially... spiritually. It is one that has prompted me to change the name of the Blog Site. For, these soldiers are not children of the war, as the title would imply. No, on the contrary, as I have talked more and more to these men and women, even in the worst of times while there, they learned to seek out the small miracles, the joys, the blessings.. and in doing so, it made all of the difference. Blessings from Baghdad, as it were.

This blog will serve as my testament to those Blessings. To small glimpses at the character of a Loving God working through the hearts, souls, and minds of the American soldiers serving selflessly their families and their country in a foreign land. Snapshots of scenes in these soldiers lives during these conflict, that prove that even in the roughest of times, we can triumph over adversity with help from the Almighty, and come out five times as strong on the other side.