He was eventually flown to Landstuhl Germany.  Then to Walter Reed in D.C.  Then to Fort Sam Houston.  They did miracle work on him throughout and though still in serious condition he had survived the worst part.  I received no word from him.  My father (his grandfather) was acting as go between keeping me updated on everything about him.  My Dad trying to convince him to call me.  About a month or so after his injury, while at work, I received a phone call.  The voice on the other end was barely audible and so raspy initially I thought it a prank phone call.  "Dad, it's me".  I replied, "If this is some kind of sick joke it isn't funny".  "He repeated more clearly, "Dad it's me.  I can't hardly talk because of the tubes and my vocal cords are damaged.  I just wanted to let you know I will be alright.  I have to go now."  I told him I loved him before he hung up.

A month later he called when his voice was stronger.  At that point he was out of danger for the most part except for risks of infection --- though he still had much healing to do.  He explained everything that happened that day and we had a very good conversation for 4 hours until he had to go to bed.  Since then for whatever reason he hasn't called or responded to any of my texts.  Don't know what that is all about.  I still haven't been able to set eyes on him.  It hurts but helps knowing he is still with us.  Shortly after it happened I dared only ask God for 2 things (I'm not religious) 1.  Let him live 2. Please no brain damage.

That day:  From what I now understand, after attending a meeting with Afghan leaders he walked out of the building.  Once he got 20 feet from the exit 2 of his friends followed out.  An Afghan suicide bomber set off a bomb right next to them.  Some of the shrapnel hit him in the left shoulder and thigh.  He said, "It stung real bad but I looked down and thought 'holy shit' I'm still here."  As he ran over to his two friends along with a medic and another soldier he realized something was wrong.  He couldn't use his left arm well and his pants felt like he had jumped in a pool due to all the blood he was losing.  1 ball bearing had destroyed his shoulder, another had chipped half-way through his femur and cut the artery.  In a daze he heard the medic say, "Forget it.  They are gone."  Just then out of the corner of his eye he saw someone step around the corner of the building.  He turned and saw someone standing right next to him.  He said the guy looked crazy or retarded, making a guttural, growling, panting noise.  He already had his finger on the button.  As the 2nd bomber said, "Allah Akba" he knew what was coming.  As he ducked to knock everyone flat it went off before he could hardly move.  He remembers nothing after that.

As they come, he is a walking-talking miracle.  The Army's official orders were rehab for 1 year, after which time they would assess him for active duty or give him a medical discharge.  He said he would do it in 6 months.  The week before his 6th month he tested himself and passed all the basic requirements.  One month later he went back active (after the Army passed him up for promotion to Captain).  Laughable if not so sad.  What's it take to earn Captain?  He made it 2nd go around.

Though I am told his scarring is extensive, medically he has few long term injuries and suffers from no post-traumatic stress disorder.  They completely rebuilt his left shoulder and elbow.  Removed several ball bearings from his brain and 1 which went through his esophagus lodging against his juggler (and many more in the rest of his body --- some still remain I believe).  Despite the fact his vital organs shut down from a time they have all healed.  He lungs were severely damaged due to overpressure and he was bleeding into his lungs for quite some time which was a major concern.  They too have healed.  Many broken bones also healed.  He is nothing short of a miracle and I am the luckiest Dad in the world.  I can't complain.  It's enough for me.

He is such a wonderful person.  Amazing brave.  I am so proud for him.  Anyone who knows him understands.  When my Dad saw his scar (cut from sternum to pelvis) and all the other wounds he stepped back startled.  He didn't want him to see his reaction but before catching himself I was told my son said, "Don't worry about it grandpa, I'll get a zipper tattoo and no one will know the difference."

I've many regrets and made many mistakes throughout my life.  My son knows little about who I am and nothing about who I have become in the intervening years.  He knows only what he hears second hand (which is never good, usually totally false and one-sided).  On the occasions I have made mistakes in my life it's all he is made aware and always somewhat distorted to say the least.  So I can't blame him for thinking the worst.  If he only knew the truth or bothered to find out.

I've filled my emptiness helping others.  I have 3 young girls I help care for who come from hard circumstances.  I take in the homeless, addicts, abused women.  I help them overcome their problems and make better choices in life.  Yet I'm sure he knows nothing of who I've become.  It's enough for me to appreciate all he has become.

War sux.  It has a way of forcing you to confront what terrifies you most.  That unsaid.