thedrifter
03-26-09, 06:34 AM
Posted on March 26, 2009 4:59 AM
Veteran finds niche mending Marines
By Phenola Lawrence
Collegian Staff Writer
Maggie Kwok remembers the exact word her teacher wrote on the chalkboard as she sat in high school, viewing the Sept. 11, 2001 crash scenes: WAR.
For her, he was "too dramatic." She dismissed it. She had just pre-enlisted with the U.S. Navy and was set to join after high school. There was no way, she thought, she would see the face of war so soon.
She was wrong.
Kwok, who grew up in Houston, Texas, said her parents expected her to attend college. But it never felt right to her. She talked to a friend who wanted to be a Navy SEAL. The military intrigued Kwok -- she could picture herself there.
Her mother had one condition, however. She told Kwok she could join, but she had to work in the medical field.
That wasn't a problem -- Kwok loved medicine. She wanted to be a Navy corpsman, a medic who treats troops' injuries. For the first time, Kwok knew what she wanted to do.
"It was hard for me to leave," Kwok said about preparing for boot camp. "It was hard, but I did it."
Next Stop: Iraq
Kwok completed her basic corpsman training, followed by Field Medical Service School, where she learned "tactical combat medical care." Because Navy corpsmen are often stationed with Marines, she had to learn the war mentality. On the battlefield -- where hesitation meant life or death -- there wasn't any room to second-guess.
After her training, she learned where her next deployment was going to be: Iraq. Six years ago on March 19, 2003, President George W. Bush announced the U.S. would go to war with the Middle Eastern country, and she was ready.
"I didn't know whether it was a good or bad idea," Kwok said. "Whatever he says to do, we do. He's our commander-in-chief. I knew what I was getting in to -- I made that choice. No one put a gun to my head and told me to go."
In August 2007, Kwok was stationed at Al Asad Airbase in Iraq. The airbase supported all the smaller bases with supplies, security and convoys. In addition to her medic duties, Kwok escorted convoys and went on missions to dispose of explosives.
During one of these missions, Kwok came face-to-face with the possibility of death. She was sent on "route recon," where a convoy travels to unexplored parts of the city. The terrain is rugged, there may be hidden explosives and the people could be hostile.
"My chief comes up to me and says 'Kwok, you're going on route recon, so pack enough panties,' " she said. "That was the type of humor we had. This one young-buck Corman says, 'You're probably going to die.' The thought never even crossed my mind. Why did he have to say that? I spent the entire night tossing and turning. But we went and everything turned out fine."
"It was my job to patch up the Marines and send them back out there."
The Marines was the perfect fit for Kwok. With a self-proclaimed "sailor's mouth," Kwok said she had the loudness and presence to handle being one of a few women.
"There's always the stereotypes about women in the military," she said. "That they can't do this or that, but I was tough. I pulled my own weight and never complained. I never cried or stopped working because I had cramps. I took two Motrin and sucked it up. The people shooting at you don't care who or what you are. They don't discriminate because you are a girl. All they know is that you aren't on their side."
Kwok earned the respect of her unit, and that was important to her.
"If we had a mass casualty it would be hard on me because I'd have to be a doctor, nurse and pharmacist all at once," Kwok said. "It was important that they trusted me with their lives. It was my job to patch up the Marines and send them back out there."
In her time as a medic, she's had Marines wake her up at 2 a.m. because they didn't feel so good; attended to heat casualties, minor sprains and animal bites; fought with Marines who refused medical attention; and even caught Marines who passed out at the sight of blood or needles.
Kwok never experienced the mass casualties she feared -- and she doesn't regret it. For her, it meant that "someone's mother, father, sister, brother, whatever," was still alive. But she wasn't always spared the brutalities of war.
While waiting to perform maintenance checks on hospital equipment, Kwok came face-to-face with the injured. Inside the hospital, she saw a blood-drenched Marine. Three doctors and a couple of corpsmen were desperately trying to save his life. He had been shot by a sniper.
The doctor called the time of death soon after, but it felt like an eternity to her. Everyone, including Kwok, stood at attention as the doctor draped a green wool blanket over the body, followed by an American flag, and wheeled him out of the room. Kwok approached her chief.
"Sorry, chief," Kwok said.
"It happens," the chief said.
Never Look Back
Today, Kwok is a 25-year-old sophomore and the president of the Penn State Veterans Organization. She has a "ton of credits" -- including all of her physical education and almost all of her nursing credits, which will allow her to earn her degree in nursing as early as next semester. But she didn't think it was the right fit.
"I guess you could say, I'm done wiping ass," Kwok said. "I did that in the Navy for five years."
Her transition from a medic to a student was "easy" because she had a "great support system." Being around students who have also been to war helped her adjust.
She doesn't spend too much time thinking about Iraq. For her, it's still puzzling to think she went and made it back out alive.
"I know I went to Iraq, but sometimes it's hard to believe," Kwok said. "I have the pictures, I have the memories, but to realize I went there and came back is like, 'Oh my God.' It still hasn't sunk in."
Ellie
Veteran finds niche mending Marines
By Phenola Lawrence
Collegian Staff Writer
Maggie Kwok remembers the exact word her teacher wrote on the chalkboard as she sat in high school, viewing the Sept. 11, 2001 crash scenes: WAR.
For her, he was "too dramatic." She dismissed it. She had just pre-enlisted with the U.S. Navy and was set to join after high school. There was no way, she thought, she would see the face of war so soon.
She was wrong.
Kwok, who grew up in Houston, Texas, said her parents expected her to attend college. But it never felt right to her. She talked to a friend who wanted to be a Navy SEAL. The military intrigued Kwok -- she could picture herself there.
Her mother had one condition, however. She told Kwok she could join, but she had to work in the medical field.
That wasn't a problem -- Kwok loved medicine. She wanted to be a Navy corpsman, a medic who treats troops' injuries. For the first time, Kwok knew what she wanted to do.
"It was hard for me to leave," Kwok said about preparing for boot camp. "It was hard, but I did it."
Next Stop: Iraq
Kwok completed her basic corpsman training, followed by Field Medical Service School, where she learned "tactical combat medical care." Because Navy corpsmen are often stationed with Marines, she had to learn the war mentality. On the battlefield -- where hesitation meant life or death -- there wasn't any room to second-guess.
After her training, she learned where her next deployment was going to be: Iraq. Six years ago on March 19, 2003, President George W. Bush announced the U.S. would go to war with the Middle Eastern country, and she was ready.
"I didn't know whether it was a good or bad idea," Kwok said. "Whatever he says to do, we do. He's our commander-in-chief. I knew what I was getting in to -- I made that choice. No one put a gun to my head and told me to go."
In August 2007, Kwok was stationed at Al Asad Airbase in Iraq. The airbase supported all the smaller bases with supplies, security and convoys. In addition to her medic duties, Kwok escorted convoys and went on missions to dispose of explosives.
During one of these missions, Kwok came face-to-face with the possibility of death. She was sent on "route recon," where a convoy travels to unexplored parts of the city. The terrain is rugged, there may be hidden explosives and the people could be hostile.
"My chief comes up to me and says 'Kwok, you're going on route recon, so pack enough panties,' " she said. "That was the type of humor we had. This one young-buck Corman says, 'You're probably going to die.' The thought never even crossed my mind. Why did he have to say that? I spent the entire night tossing and turning. But we went and everything turned out fine."
"It was my job to patch up the Marines and send them back out there."
The Marines was the perfect fit for Kwok. With a self-proclaimed "sailor's mouth," Kwok said she had the loudness and presence to handle being one of a few women.
"There's always the stereotypes about women in the military," she said. "That they can't do this or that, but I was tough. I pulled my own weight and never complained. I never cried or stopped working because I had cramps. I took two Motrin and sucked it up. The people shooting at you don't care who or what you are. They don't discriminate because you are a girl. All they know is that you aren't on their side."
Kwok earned the respect of her unit, and that was important to her.
"If we had a mass casualty it would be hard on me because I'd have to be a doctor, nurse and pharmacist all at once," Kwok said. "It was important that they trusted me with their lives. It was my job to patch up the Marines and send them back out there."
In her time as a medic, she's had Marines wake her up at 2 a.m. because they didn't feel so good; attended to heat casualties, minor sprains and animal bites; fought with Marines who refused medical attention; and even caught Marines who passed out at the sight of blood or needles.
Kwok never experienced the mass casualties she feared -- and she doesn't regret it. For her, it meant that "someone's mother, father, sister, brother, whatever," was still alive. But she wasn't always spared the brutalities of war.
While waiting to perform maintenance checks on hospital equipment, Kwok came face-to-face with the injured. Inside the hospital, she saw a blood-drenched Marine. Three doctors and a couple of corpsmen were desperately trying to save his life. He had been shot by a sniper.
The doctor called the time of death soon after, but it felt like an eternity to her. Everyone, including Kwok, stood at attention as the doctor draped a green wool blanket over the body, followed by an American flag, and wheeled him out of the room. Kwok approached her chief.
"Sorry, chief," Kwok said.
"It happens," the chief said.
Never Look Back
Today, Kwok is a 25-year-old sophomore and the president of the Penn State Veterans Organization. She has a "ton of credits" -- including all of her physical education and almost all of her nursing credits, which will allow her to earn her degree in nursing as early as next semester. But she didn't think it was the right fit.
"I guess you could say, I'm done wiping ass," Kwok said. "I did that in the Navy for five years."
Her transition from a medic to a student was "easy" because she had a "great support system." Being around students who have also been to war helped her adjust.
She doesn't spend too much time thinking about Iraq. For her, it's still puzzling to think she went and made it back out alive.
"I know I went to Iraq, but sometimes it's hard to believe," Kwok said. "I have the pictures, I have the memories, but to realize I went there and came back is like, 'Oh my God.' It still hasn't sunk in."
Ellie