
First response: View from the Medivac team
BAGHDAD, Iraq, Nov. 2 (UPI) -- From the air, the Chinook transport helicopter looks flattened. It doesn't look like a helicopter at all, and considering that the 159 Medivac helicopter I'm riding in was supposed to be headed to a roadside bomb explosion, it doesn't occur to me that the mess 400 feet below us is unusual.
I'm half-asleep in the back of the Blackhawk after riding on about a dozen such missions over the previous 36 hours. It's about 9:30 a.m. on Sunday, and I'd returned from the last mission just over six hours ago.
As we near the scene, it's clear that something big is happening below us. There are 6 or 8 choppers already on the ground. Sitting in the back of the Blackhawk without a headset to listen to the two pilots, medic and crew chief that fly the missions, I had no idea what was going on.
It did not take long, however, for reality to sink in, when we touch down about a minute later some 30 kilometers (about 19 miles) southwest of Fallujah. About a dozen men from the 82nd Airborne came running at our chopper as though we were bring them casualties. Usually, it's the other way around.
Minutes later an ambulance pulls up to the chopper with a very badly wounded young soldier inside. We happened to have on board this mission a visiting Air Force Flight Surgeon. He and the medic quickly start working on the wounded man, whose head wound is clearly serious. Within minutes, the doctor's performing CPR and the medic is trying to clear breathing tubes, which have filled with blood. This soldier is barely alive.
Under normal circumstances, the team would have flown to the 28 CSH Hospital in Baghdad, where there's a state-of-the-art medical facility for U.S. troops. But a Chinook filled with wounded had run out of fuel while landing there just moments before, leaving the landing pad unable to take any new helicopters until the crippled chopper was moved.
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http://www.upi.com/view.cfm?StoryID=20031102-103706-1836r