I was flying with the Blackhawk aerovac unit the other night. We went to Baghdad to pick up a couple of soldiers who had been injured. As we were about to pick the two men up the pilot was informed that there was a civilian contractor at a neighboring base who needed a ride to Balad to visit his son who had been injured in an IED blast. After picking up the patients from Baghdad we left for the next base. We landed and the flight medic went to get the father. He was no where to be found. We waited 10 minutes and then checked again but still no father. We needed to get the two wounded members back to Balad so we left. We were flying at night. We all had night vision goggles on. The whole world becomes green with halos around any light source. It is quite amazing to be able to see in the dark.

We arrive at the hospital drop off the two patients who will be on their way to Germany in just hours. I had encouraged the soldiers before we left Baghdad that they would soon be breathing fresh cool air with plenty of trees to enjoy. They smiled. It is amazing what a desert does to make you appreciate simple pleasures. I completely forget about the father who is trying to get to his son’s side.

The following day I was in the patient ward of the hospital. Myself and one of the other flight surgeons were clearing patients for flights to Kuwait and Germany. I started talking to one of the patients who seemed to have a good sense of humor. He had sustained a knee injury when his Bradley vehicle rolled across a very big bomb. He described that blast like God had picked up his Bradley, a multi-ton heavily armored vehicle, shook it and then threw it down. His Bradley had been involved in more than 20 IED blasts. This one would be the last for her. His knee was injured and he had many other cuts and bruises on his body. He said that his commander said, “I am glad that you are OK. I am also thankful that you guys in the Bradley hit the bomb and not a Humvee, because they would have all been killed.” The soldier agreed with the commander. The armor of the Bradley had saved the lives of himself and his crew and probably some unknowing Humvee crew.

I asked him how he was feeling and if his pain was under control. He said the pain was not too bad. He had been able to talk to his wife before the official military phone call had notified her that her husband had been injured in combat. He then went on to volunteer that what really helped him was seeing his father. He explained that his father was a civilian contractor in Iraq and that the military had flown him in last night to see him. It meant the world to him because he had not seen his father in two years. Previous to this deployment he had been in Korea for 18 months. It was nice to be able to tell him that the Army was trying so hard to get his father to Balad that they had diverted our helo to go and try to pick him up also. I know it was an incredible blessing to this soldier to have his father visit. I was blessed to be able to see both sides of the story.

I do not know what kind of relationship this son and father had; but, I am pretty sure when your child has been injured all that matters is the present. The past becomes largely irrelevant. It reminds of the relationship between Absalom and David. Even though Absalom tried to take the kingdom away from his Father, David mourned greatly when his son was killed in battle against the king’s soldiers. 2 Samuel 18:33” O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you—O Absalom, my son, my son.”

A special thanks to all the Fathers who are serving today and heart felt condolences for all those Fathers who have outlived there children.

Soli Deo Gloria