My goal this week is to honor and acknowledge the incredible courage of those who have survived severe wartime injuries. The most gut-wrenching articles I have read in some time are about both British soldiers and Iraqi civilians who have lost limbs because of explosions. While I suppose this subject has little to do with business, I believe these are crucial takeaways that not only put life into perspective but teach us all to be more connected to others which, in my opinion, will improve us as a caring human being whom others would prefer to do business with.
20 year-old Matthew Weston of the Royal Engineers was clearing a dirt track of mines in one of the most dangerous parts of Helmand, Afghanistan in July 2009. Night had fallen. As he turned to give the all-clear, a blast ripped through his body blowing off both of his legs. He had stepped on an Improvised Explosive Device (IED). These are littered throughout narrow alleyways used to deadly effect by Taliban soldiers. “I was the man at the front. I didn’t have any night-vision equipment. They just didn’t have enough to go round.” Surgeons never thought he would survive after losing seven pints of blood, part of his intestine and his spleen. He was unconscious for a week and woke up to find himself back in England with his sister by his bedside. Last summer British soldiers ran a one-in-three chance of being blown up every time they left the main base. To make matters worse, soldiers say that the Taliban lace IEDs with bacteria from untreated sewage, increasing the chances of infection.
Many amputees suffer crippling pain in arms and legs that do not exist. It is common for them to have hallucinations, flashbacks and to wake up in cold sweats screaming after stepping on imaginary IEDs. London Times writer Miles Amoore was covering the combat only to return to England after his brother, James, stepped on an IED and was seriously wounded.
The emotional journey for most of the soldiers can be a long one that starts with feelings that go from despair to denial and anger: Matthew Weston: “There were days when I didn’t see the point in going on. You see murderers in prison that are completely fine. They don’t contribute at all, they waste oxygen. You think, ‘Why did it happen to me?’I never harmed anyone.”
But it moves to a gradual acceptance. As Rifleman Daniel Shaw, age 18, puts it: “Right, my legs are gone, there’s no point in moaning about it. There’s no point in being suicidal. I might as well crack on.”
“Once you can talk about your wounds, then they become something so boring you get past them and come to terms with them,” says Lt Alex Horsfall. Journalist Amoore wrote: “I watched them come back to life. Their resilient personalities began to plug the mental fissures ripped open by the bullets and shrapnel.”
Despite the fact that there are constant surgeries, phantom pains and life-changing injuries, “the soldiers remain stoic. There were only six legs between the six wounded soldiers in my brother’s bay. And yet I watched them laugh about their wounds, hit on the nurses and play practical jokes on each other.” Clearly the power of a sense of humor even in the darkest of times goes further than we can imagine.
In Daniel Gilberts’ Stumbling onto Happiness, the Harvard psychology professor cites studies that show that over time people who have become disabled consider themselves happier than those who win the lottery! “They’re unbelievably positive and they always surprise you,” said Alice Croft, an intensive-care unit nurse. “They make us laugh; they ask us out when they wake up. They find a way of dealing with the massive injuries they have and taking it on the chin.”
There is still the challenging realization of not being able to do what they had done in the past – cutting food, dressing themselves, writing, and walking. One of the solutions they have found is setting goals – learning to write with hands missing fingers and learning to walk on prosthetic limbs. Rifleman Paul Jacobs, 20, who lost one eye in a blast and took shrapnel to his other wants to climb Mount Kilimanjaro once he has finished rehabilitation.
Lt Alex Horsfall: “I have realized that there is a huge amount to life that is unappreciated until limbs are lost. You will be chuckling when I am running faster than Usain Bolt on some ridiculous, metallic, spring contraption.”
Most of us will never come close to experiencing such trauma, yet we can learn much from how these soldiers have responded. It can also remind us of the sacrifices some people are willing to make, to put our own daily worries into new perspective and of how much we have to be thankful for.
I was deeply disturbed, riveted, humbled and awed by the actions, attitudes and thoughts of the people I read about and the pictures I saw. You can help wounded soldiers by making a donation online at www.helpforheroes.org.uk.
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