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I am a doctor specializing in the Emergency Departments of the only two military Level One-Trauma Centers, both in San Antonio , TX and they care for civilian Emergencies as well as military personnel. San Antonio has the largest military retiree population in the world living here. As a military doctor, I work long hours and the pay is less than glamorous. One tends to become jaded by the long hours, lack of sleep, food, family contact and the endless parade of human suffering passing before you. The arrival of another ambulance does not mean more pay, only more work. Most often, it is a victim from a motor vehicle crash.
Often it is a person of dubious character who has been shot or stabbed. With our large military retiree population, it is often a nursing home patient. Even with my enlisted service and minimal combat experience in Panama , I have caught myself groaning when the ambulance brought in yet another sick, elderly person from one of the local retirement centers that cater to military retirees. I had not stopped to think of what citizens of this age group represented.
I saw 'Saving Private Ryan'. I was touched deeply. Not so much by the carnage, but by the sacrifices of so many. I was touched most by the scene of the elderly survivor at the graveside, asking his wife if he'd been a good man. I realized that I had seen these same men and women coming through my Emergency Dept. and had not realized what magnificent sacrifices they had made. The things they did for me and everyone else that has lived on this planet since the end of that conflict are priceless.
Situation permitting, I now try to ask my patients about their experiences. They would never bring up the subject without the inquiry. I have been privileged to an amazing array of experiences, recounted in the brief minutes allowed in an Emergency Dept. encounter. These experiences have revealed the incredible individuals I have had the honor of serving in a medical capacity, many on their last admission to the hospital.
There was a frail, elderly woman who reassured my young enlisted medic, trying to start an IV line in her arm. She remained calm and poised, despite her illness and the multiple needle-sticks into her fragile veins. She was what we call a 'hard stick.' As the medic made another attempt, I noticed a number tattooed across her forearm. I touched it with one finger and looked into her eyes. She simply said, ' Auschwitz '. Many of later generations would have loudly and openly berated the young medic in his many attempts. How different was the response from this person who'd seen unspeakable suffering.
Also, there was this long retired Colonel, who as a young officer had parachuted from his burning plane over a Pacific Island held by the Japanese. Now an octogenarian, he had a minor cut on his head from a fall at his home where he lived alone. His CT scan and suturing had been delayed until after midnight by the usual parade of high priority ambulance patients. Still spry for his age, he asked to use the phone to call a taxi, to take him home, then he realized his ambulance had brought him without his wallet. He asked if he could use the phone to make a long distance call to his daughter who lived 7 miles away. With great pride we told him that he could not, as he'd done enough for his country and the least we could do was get him a taxi home, even if we had to pay for it ourselves. My only regret was that my shift wouldn't end for several hours, and I couldn't drive him myself.
I was there the night M/Sgt Roy Benavidez came through the Emergency Dept. for the last time. He was very sick. I was not the doctor taking care of him, but I walked to his bedside and took his hand. I said nothing. He was so sick, he didn't know I was there. I'd read his Medal of Honor citation and wanted to shake his hand. He died a few days later.
The gentleman who served with Merrill's Marauders,
the survivor of the Bataan Death March,
The survivor of Omaha Beach .
The 101 year old World War I veteran.
The former POW held in frozen North Korea .
The former Special Forces medic - now with non-operable liver cancer.
The former Viet Nam Corps Commander.
I remember these citizens
and still groan when yet another ambulance comes in, but now I am much more aware of what an honor it is to serve these particular men and women.
I have seen a Congress who would turn their back on these individuals who've sacrificed so much to protect our liberty. I see later generations that seem to be totally engrossed in abusing these same liberties, won with such sacrifice.
It has become my personal endeavor to make the nurses and young enlisted medics aware of these amazing individuals when I encounter them in our Emergency Dept. Their response to these particular citizens has made me think that perhaps all is not lost in the next generation.
My experiences have solidified my belief that we are losing an incredible generation, and this nation knows not what it is losing. Our uncaring government and ungrateful civilian populace should all take note.
We should all remember that we must 'Earn this'.
written By CAPT. Stephen R. Ellison, M.D. US Army
If it weren't for the United States Military, there'd be NO United States of America !

11 comments:
Amen, Sarge... From the early patriots of the 1700s to the troops today, they are why we live in the greatest country in the world.
We are losing a tremendous generation - they went through the Great Depression AND World War II.
Their experiences were tremendous, valued and will be missed.
JJ
Thank you! My stepdad is still alive. He was in WW2, Korea, and Viet Nam. He is 90, still doing fairly well. He still lives at home. We took him to see the WW2 memorial, and he was moved to tears.
this new, "entitled" generation scares the hell out of me. so many young men and women are only focused on the serving of SELF
Each of these seniors has a story to tell. Respect and remembering is what they need the most. Thanks for another excellent post, Sarge.
Big hugs, honey...
I'm so sorry Charlie that unfortunately as time goes on and the young people forget and I just don't mean the teenagers I mean those in their 40's, freedom is forgotten. Meeting and knowing you has opened mind & heart about the many soldiers from many wars. Freedom is no longer just a ship I was on, but what I've enjoyed for 61 years and for that I thank you and all the many man & women of themselves so that I can enjoy freedom. I wonder what will happen after the last soldier from the past dies?
Paul
What a great post and how wonderful that this doctor began to see not just the patients themselves but their lives, too.
they are indeed the greatest generation. As they are now aging and passing on, the kids today do not realize the sacrifices that were made FOR THEM, the future of this country.
And they do not teach much about this in the Public Schools.
Parents need to tell their children that this is why we are a great nation.
God Bless all of these great men, true patriots all of them, as well as you! Mr Sargie!
Excellent Sarge. Excellent. I see lots of good kids out there. We just have to look. I remember the older crowd saying my generation was lost. I came of age in 1969. We survived. They will be different, but the will survive too.
As for the government? Well they are a mess. A mess. You already know that though. This current group wants to control every aspect of our lives. Not going to happen.
Have a terrific day Sarge. Big hug to you and Miss Bee for cold California. :)
Wonderful story, Sarge. Our seniors are our treasures yet far too often go overlooked and under-appreciated. I read something the other day which said there are very few multi-generation families living together anymore. Nursing homes or Retirement homes. So sad. I just love having my parents with me and listening to their stories.
Big hugs :]
Barb, your parents are truly blessed!
~~Sarge, this is one of those posts that leave me breathless. We no longer have a generation that has been called to suffer - scares me to death.
~~I remember seeing an old man in the store when I was a kid. His pants leg was pinned up above his knee and he was walking on crutches. I asked my mom what was wrong with him - a little too loudly - and my mom told me to be quiet. I later figured out that he was a WWI Veteran (more than likely...). When I made my loud question, he gave me a look that would kill and turned quickly in the opposite direction. Funny how these memories start coming back...But looking back, I often wonder if I'd hurt his feelings. I sure hope not.
~~~Blessings~~~
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