Paradise General (36 page)

Whether it be a bad trauma case, a tough surgery, or sick patient in post-op, we could always count on Robert Bento, Jeremy Bookman, Larry Brown, Jesse Burke, David Conti, Bob Czarniak, Brandon Gerry, Jossary Gerry, Allison Golden, Charles Pierce, Tim Rochfort, Brian Wallace, Stanley Warnock, and my favorite X-ray chief, Kirk Wolloff, among many others.

Always ready with lifesaving airways and oxygen were our nurse anesthetists, Mark Arturi, Leah Carpenter, Steve Lemoine, and Dean Losee. Thanks for the gas.

Physicians who were not official members of our group, but were
invaluable in caring for patients or contributing to morning trivia were Duane Luke, Kenny Smith, Andrew Torrance, and Gary Wheeler.

To the doctors who preceded our group at the 399th, a special salute. You set the standard for being the best.

And what can I say about the “Angels of Mercy” who staffed our ICU and wards? The patients, and we doctors, were blessed to have you.

In a war where you could wind up being assigned to a bad boss, we were lucky to have some good ones. Colonel Greg Quick held my hand without crushing it. Colonel Bryan Kelly kept the place from falling apart.

Most importantly, we had leaders like Major General Ronald Silverman and Major General James Simmons, who in the midst of an unconventional war were able to see the big picture and ensure our soldiers got the best of care. And a special thanks to General David Petraeus, who didn't yell at me when I waved instead of saluting when we crossed paths in June 2007.

My 2004 deployment had its saviors as well. My commanders, Lieutenant Colonel Izzy Rommes and Brigadier General David Quantock, were models of honor, integrity, and wisdom, always leading from the front. Command Sergeant Major James Weaver could have chewed my inexperienced army butt to shreds, but instead took the time to patiently teach me how to act like an officer. I think the hair he pulled out has finally grown back.

My bodyguards, Bob Chenoweth and Steve Robinson, protected me on the road. Sergeant Rickey Hopson found me when I was lost. Captain Randy Conover kept me from getting lost again.

Although only crazy people jump out of perfectly functioning planes, I will be forever proud of being a soldier with the 160th MP Airborne Battalion and 16th MP Airborne Brigade.

Colonel John Haynie, Retired, was a one-man band tasked with
keeping whining army doctors happy. His work at Fort Benning for deployed reservist physicians will earn him sainthood.

My friends on the home front deserve special mention as well, especially all of my coworkers at CBS4 in Denver. Walt DeHaven, Raetta Holdman, Kristine Strain, and Tim Wieland were among those who never complained when I needed time off to be an army guy, or needed to juggle jobs with writing a book.

I never saw a “support the troops” decal on his truck, yet my neighbor Cam Tiffany put those words into action. He cut my lawn every week I was deployed. The little things mean a lot to a soldier away from home.

Gary Borgeson, Huel Halliburton, Kerry Mahoney, and Ian Reutlinger were among the dozen civilians who reviewed the manuscript and steered the book back onto the road whenever I tried to drive it into a ditch.

Beth Henson used her journalism degree and intrinsic kindness to provide much-needed wisdom and encouragement.

Then there are the official book people. My editor at Simon & Schuster, Colin Fox, could have been a football coach for all of the pats on the rump he gave to keep me in the game. Assistant coach Michele Bové was always patient and available for the most inexperienced of questions. Elisa Rivlin helped me navigate the legal land mines, especially those involving patient confidentiality and privacy. And though every author writes he or she has the world's best agent, I beg to disagree. I have Larry Weissman, who truly is the world's best agent.

Finally, eternal thanks to Lucy, Moe, Piston, Yimster, and the Belle. You are the true blessings in my life.

D
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has been a practicing physician for more than twenty-five years. He also serves as the medical editor for KCNC-TV in Denver. He attended the University of Pennsylvania and spent his internship and residency at Rocky Mountain at Presbyterian/St. Luke's Medical Center. He currently lives in Colorado.

My dad, age 23, stationed in Italy, 1943.

Armed with a rifle and medical supplies, I scan a field for insurgents outside Baghdad.

2004: Stuck in a sandstorm on some unknown road.

A pair of medevacs land on our concrete helipad.

Medics race a wounded soldier into the ER, a trip that took less than a minute.

Summer temperatures often hit the mid 130s. We had the luxury of air conditioning. The soldiers in the field did not.

After a series of roadside bombs, our trauma bays filled with the wounded.

The hospital wasn't much to look at, but the care we provided was top-notch.

The primitive plastic scrub sinks of the OR.