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But my adrenalin was pumping and I was scared shit-less and I just kept pulling the trigger. I finally stopped firing, and then saw another Hajji come out of the bunker. And I fired my last 5 remaining rounds at him and dropped the bastard. That brings me to my opening.…
I was paralyzed from the neck down for about 5 minutes because of spinal-shock. I passed out from shock for about 5 minutes and woke up. I realized I was about 30 meters from where I was shot. I later found out that Cpl Tardiff, who was already wounded himself, had heard over the radio that I was hit and ran to my position, bleeding and all, and drug me out of the line of fire, while Cpl Martinez (Now Sgt Martinez) grabbed an enemy RPG and fired it at the bunker. Then, by himself, single-handedly charged in the bunker and killed the 4 remaining enemy fighters inside. He later received the first Navy Cross of the war for his actions, and was combat-meritoriously promoted to Sgt.
I had regained feeling and movement in my upper body but knew something wasn't right about my lower body. The Navy Corpsman dressed my entry wound, but didn't know I had an exit wound, so I was bleeding-out fast. They loaded me up in an Amtrac and rushed me to a empty field, where I waited to be air-lifted to an aid-station. While I was waiting for the helo, I had told my buddy Miguel to say a prayer for me. He did. I also prayed for my family and friends. I knew I was dying. It was only a matter of time. But after I got over the initial shock of dying, and realized there was no chance for me to live, I was peaceful. So peaceful. I was in pure ecstacy then. There was no fear at all. I was prepared to die and believed I had lived a good enough life to make it into Heaven. I kept trying to close my eyes and just go to sleep and die peacefully, but Miguel would slap the S**T out of me and kept me awake long enough for the MedEvac to arrive. For that I now am grateful to him, and will always be indebted to him.
After a short trip by hello, I arrived at the aid station just in time. I had lost almost all my blood by then, and was about to die. The Doc there asked me where I was from, and then I passed out. I awoke 2 weeks later in Bethesda Naval Hospital in Maryland. Where I was then told that the bullet had entered under my left armpit, punctured my lung, severed my aorta vein to my heart, and tumbled down and had severed (completely) my spinal cord and blown a chunk of my vertebra out of my back. I was told I would be a paraplegic for the rest of my life. But I was alive. I was ALIVE. And that's all that mattered then, and now as well.
I've had about 8 surgeries since then, and will have another this Monday, here at the VA hospital in Houston TX, where I'm currently an inpatient for pressure sores. I'm doing alright now and am a f*****' pro in my armchair now. I can go up and down curbs and steps as well. Life is good. I just wish I could still be in the Marine Corps. But that's okay. I'm alive.
Today is Veterans Day. Remember all of those vets who have made sacrifices for all of us, regardless of the war they fought in, and if it was justified or not. I went to Iraq to defend my country and Her allies. And to get some justice for 9/11. I would've rather have gone to Afghanistan, but it wasn't up to me. I just did as I was told. Thanks to all the vets who have come before me, especially those of you in Vietnam. I love you guys with all my heart. Honestly. And thanks to those of you for reading this. I know you didn't have to.
Please, please recommend this diary of my story. I know its not important, and doesn't need to be read. I just really want people to hear my story. My sacrifice. Peace be with all of you. Oh yeah, one more thing.....F*** YOU BUSH!!!
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