One Vet's Story

We were waiting on the elevator at the VA hospital, myself and a young man with a brace wrapping his leg.

"What happened to your leg?" I asked. Dumb question in a hospital for veterans.

"Got shot up in Iraq," he said. "2You know those pictures you see of the guy on top of a vehicle with a machine gun? That was me."

 He didn't say vehicle and machine gun; he used different terms but I can't remember them. But the picture he painted was vivid.

"When did you get back home?"

"2006."

I struggled to find words. That long ago, and his leg still in a brace.

"So, will your leg get any better?"

"Right now we're just focused on keeping it" he said. So matter-of-fact.

We rode down the elevator together in companionable silence. An older vet with a walker got on on another floor, and when we all got off the young man quietly asked, "Sir, do you need any help?"

The older man said no thanks, and the young soldier and I walked on to the lobby.

"I was over there twice. Got shot in the same leg first trip, came home and healed up and asked to go back. Second trip this happened."  He paused. "I was the only one in that vehicle to survive."

"I imagine that was the worst part of all," I said.

"Yes." He nodded."Worse than this leg."

We parted ways then. I still struggle with all I wanted to say to him but the words weren't there when I needed them. What should I have said?  What would you have said? All I could offer was a quick hug. It did not feel like nearly enough.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.