thedrifter
11-21-06, 03:24 PM
Angels of Mercy Serve at Iraqi Combat Hospital
Mark Finkelstein
Correspondent
(CNSNews.com Mark Finkelstein is on special assignment for Cybercast News Service in Iraq, where he is embedded with U.S. forces.)
Camp Al Asad, Iraq (CNSNews.com) - Staff at the surgical hospital of the Marine Combat Logistics Battalion at Camp Al Asad refer to patients who die - or arrive from the battlefield already dead - as angels. For wounded men brought here, the same term might apply to the staff members themselves.
The great majority of American and Iraqi personnel wounded and requiring surgery anywhere in the vast 32,000 square mile area of operation west of Baghdad and east of the Iraq-Jordan border pass through the hospital's doors.
Most patients arrive via med-evac helicopter at a flight deck immediately adjoining the hospital.
During a visit by this reporter, news was received about the imminent arrival of a Blackhawk helicopter bearing a wounded Iraqi.
Waiting to meet the flight were Two Navy corpsman whose duties included ensuring the patient's medical well-being and a contingent of seven Marines responsible for moving the patient into the hospital and securing any weapons he may be carrying.
Two minutes after the helicopter touched down, the patient was safely inside the hospital, and perhaps three minutes later, the Blackhawk was back in the air off on its next mission of mercy.
As at all U.S. military medical installations in Iraq, the same standard of care is extended to all patients wounded on the battlefield, be they U.S. or Iraqi troops, civilian contractors, or insurgents - referred to as EPWs: enemy prisoners of war.
Staff members emphasized that the level of care was identical - the only difference being that a Marine would typically be assigned to an EPW, to ensure security.
Marine Sgt. David Tortora of Rutherford, N.J., is head of security at the hospital. His duties include responsibility for the "Angel Room" - the place where patients who succumb to their wounds during treatment, or are announced dead on arrival, are taken.
Tortora - who is now on his third tour of duty in Iraq, having voluntarily extended his second tour - said the staff upholds the highest standards of respect for the dead.
On one side of the Angel Room's entrance is an American flag, on the other an Iraqi flag. Depending on the nationality of the deceased, a sentry stands at attention in front of the respective flag when the body arrives.
Inside, a chaplain speaks briefly, before Marines conduct a ceremony during which the deceased's body is draped in his country's flag.
Once the ceremony and other duties are completed, the body is moved to a waiting vehicle for the start of the final trip home.
"This work hits us hard, but we take a lot of pride in what we do," Tortora said.
"A number of my buddies passed through this room before I was assigned this duty. I want to make sure that everyone who passes through here while I am on duty receives the same care and respect that I know my friends did."
Although the somber task is part of the reality here, the emphasis at the hospital is on saving lives.
"When I first arrived, the days and weeks seemed to meld into each other," Navy Lt. Cmdr. Jay Woelkers, the hospital's executive officer, told Cybercast News Service.
Woelkers described the never-ending cycle of workdays that typically last 16-17 hours - at times more when casualties arrive in the middle of the night.
"But we are very proud of what we do and take great satisfaction from the many lives that we save," he said.
Woelkers, a Detroit, Mich., native and professional hospital administrator with 25 years of military service, recalled an incident in which a Marine suffered a leg injury that severed his femoral artery, placing him at risk of bleeding to death in minutes.
A sergeant on the scene reached into the wounded man's leg wound, holding the torn artery closed for an hour until the wounded man was evacuated to the hospital. He survived.
Ellie
Mark Finkelstein
Correspondent
(CNSNews.com Mark Finkelstein is on special assignment for Cybercast News Service in Iraq, where he is embedded with U.S. forces.)
Camp Al Asad, Iraq (CNSNews.com) - Staff at the surgical hospital of the Marine Combat Logistics Battalion at Camp Al Asad refer to patients who die - or arrive from the battlefield already dead - as angels. For wounded men brought here, the same term might apply to the staff members themselves.
The great majority of American and Iraqi personnel wounded and requiring surgery anywhere in the vast 32,000 square mile area of operation west of Baghdad and east of the Iraq-Jordan border pass through the hospital's doors.
Most patients arrive via med-evac helicopter at a flight deck immediately adjoining the hospital.
During a visit by this reporter, news was received about the imminent arrival of a Blackhawk helicopter bearing a wounded Iraqi.
Waiting to meet the flight were Two Navy corpsman whose duties included ensuring the patient's medical well-being and a contingent of seven Marines responsible for moving the patient into the hospital and securing any weapons he may be carrying.
Two minutes after the helicopter touched down, the patient was safely inside the hospital, and perhaps three minutes later, the Blackhawk was back in the air off on its next mission of mercy.
As at all U.S. military medical installations in Iraq, the same standard of care is extended to all patients wounded on the battlefield, be they U.S. or Iraqi troops, civilian contractors, or insurgents - referred to as EPWs: enemy prisoners of war.
Staff members emphasized that the level of care was identical - the only difference being that a Marine would typically be assigned to an EPW, to ensure security.
Marine Sgt. David Tortora of Rutherford, N.J., is head of security at the hospital. His duties include responsibility for the "Angel Room" - the place where patients who succumb to their wounds during treatment, or are announced dead on arrival, are taken.
Tortora - who is now on his third tour of duty in Iraq, having voluntarily extended his second tour - said the staff upholds the highest standards of respect for the dead.
On one side of the Angel Room's entrance is an American flag, on the other an Iraqi flag. Depending on the nationality of the deceased, a sentry stands at attention in front of the respective flag when the body arrives.
Inside, a chaplain speaks briefly, before Marines conduct a ceremony during which the deceased's body is draped in his country's flag.
Once the ceremony and other duties are completed, the body is moved to a waiting vehicle for the start of the final trip home.
"This work hits us hard, but we take a lot of pride in what we do," Tortora said.
"A number of my buddies passed through this room before I was assigned this duty. I want to make sure that everyone who passes through here while I am on duty receives the same care and respect that I know my friends did."
Although the somber task is part of the reality here, the emphasis at the hospital is on saving lives.
"When I first arrived, the days and weeks seemed to meld into each other," Navy Lt. Cmdr. Jay Woelkers, the hospital's executive officer, told Cybercast News Service.
Woelkers described the never-ending cycle of workdays that typically last 16-17 hours - at times more when casualties arrive in the middle of the night.
"But we are very proud of what we do and take great satisfaction from the many lives that we save," he said.
Woelkers, a Detroit, Mich., native and professional hospital administrator with 25 years of military service, recalled an incident in which a Marine suffered a leg injury that severed his femoral artery, placing him at risk of bleeding to death in minutes.
A sergeant on the scene reached into the wounded man's leg wound, holding the torn artery closed for an hour until the wounded man was evacuated to the hospital. He survived.
Ellie