Today we celebrate unity.

Today is the day we celebrate our independence as a nation. As a country, we have generations of men and women to thank for the strength and wisdom they employed to make many difficult decisions and sacrifices to move our great country forward. On this day each year, we get the opportunity to pause and reflect on our history. Despite {insert whichever divisive topic you prefer to talk about here}, today we celebrate UNITY. Today, we put aside our differences and celebrate oneness and independence as a country.

As I personally reflect on our great nation, my mind typically wanders back to my own experiences with men and women who gave of themselves to provide us the freedom we have today to enjoy fireworks, concerts, parades, and barbecues. Below, you will find an account of an experience I had during a deployment to Afghanistan in 2010. I hope this serves as a very small reminder of the intestinal fortitude, bravery, and strength of who we are as a country. To me, this is an illustration of the people who have gone before us and those who continue to live all around us. Let us celebrate our history and our future today.

I took care of a 20 year old Lance Corporal I will call Mike. He was a sniper. The first time I saw him, he was sitting in a wheelchair staring straight ahead, completely quiet. I wasn’t working that night so I happily pranced by offering him cookies from my care package. He readily accepted (and probably was the reason for our friendship to follow!). Later, I learned his buddy, Frankie, was in the intensive care unit, about to fly to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center for further treatment. Mike and Frankie were walking when an IED went off under Frankie’s foot. Mike was thrown at least 20 feet in the air, landed on his back dazed and confused, managed to stand up, and immediately heard Frankie screaming nearby. Mike’s concussion caused a small loss of consciousness and serious disorientation, but somehow Mike found Frankie. Frankie’s legs were mangled, blood everywhere. Mike, his own head spinning from the blast, put tourniquets on Frankie’s legs immediately. The helicoptors were called as Mike sat with Frankie – no pain medication available, only comforting him with words and his presence for the longest 37 minutes of their lives.

A Black Hawk finally landed to pick them up. When they got to our hospital, we quickly learned Mike saved Frankie’s life. Without the tourniquets, Frankie would have died within minutes. I cannot tell you how many people stopped by to tell Mike about his “hero status.” The following night, Mike was my patient. His concussion was so severe from being so close to the IED blast that he was unable to stand up or walk. This same 20 year old guy who saved his buddy’s life, now was unable to ambulate from one side of his bed to the other. His eardrums were busted and he could barely hear. As (what felt like) the 100th visitor left his bedside, I went over to say hello. I found him, face in hands, balling. I sat down on the bed and touched his hand, completely expecting him to pull away, but surprised to feel him squeeze it instead. For a good solid 10 minutes, he cried. He said nothing and neither did I. Eventually, he looked up and said, “I’m sorry, Ma’am.” Obviously my response was, “For WHAT?” Apparently, it’s a part of the Marine Corps (unofficial) oath or something not to cry. We both had a good little laugh about the Marine Corps and he opened up. He rehashed all the details I mentioned above and then said every time he closed his eyes, he saw Frankie’s legs just hanging there. He said he couldn’t sleep. He said he felt anxious and scared. He said he felt guilty because Frankie has kids and a wife. He sat back to see my reaction. I was slow to respond. I looked down as I tried to take in his fears and struggles and told him he was the most normal human I had ever met, that if he was NOT affected by the events of the last day, I would be MORE concerned. He seemed to relax after that, to know he wasn’t “weird.” I told him he’d been through a lot and it would take some time to come to terms with all of it and it would NOT happen in a day or week or even a month. And I’ll never forget his response to me,“You know Ma’am, after all this, when I get back to the States, I can’t even go out and get a beer yet.” And then it hit me. This 20 year old MAN had learned more about himself than most Americans know in a lifetime. He knew that under pressure, when he shouldn’t have been able to stand, much less WALK, he went to his buddy and saved his LIFE. Mike and I spent the following three nights talking about the numerous accounts of loss he had experienced, from those of the enemy and those of his brothers. Not often did I respond because that’s not what he needed or even wanted. He had a story to tell, like so many others who experience a different perspective of freedom. And they need to feel like what they’re doing is for a reason, that Frankie losing his leg isn’t for nothing. So the next time we stand together united as a country, for the National Anthem, for our Fourth of July celebrations, or otherwise, know that you’re helping to give a reason for those who have offered part or all of their life to enjoy ‘the land of the free and the home of the brave.’ 

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.