A Medic's Life

Silence. Neither a sound nor a squeak came to my ears, just a blurred set of actions took place around me. It was like a movie, with one big exception – I was in it, smelling, touching, feeling, with no option to get out of the theatre, or even close my eyes during the scary parts. The sheer immensity of the situation, of this one unforgettable morning, changed me forever, and the implications on my faith and destiny resulted in far-reaching consequences, which shaked my whole basic foundation as a person.
I served in the army as a medic in an infantry unit, inspired by Hemingway and his “A Farewell To Arms”, motivated, like all novice enthusiastic soldiers, by strong patriotic feelings, and encouraged to live acording to the old cliché of ‘The power to heal, not to kill’. At the first Spring of my service, my unit transferred to a small army camp, containing just a few shacks, right beside the northern border of Israel. A pastoral scenic view filled every corner of the camp, revealing deep blue mediterranean sea and a bright golden sun, and gave the impression of pure tranquility – an impression that’s going to change unexpectedly, in the most radical manner.
I was eating my breakfast at the dining hall, when, out of the blue, a vague noise of gun shots appeared in the distance. I thought nothing of it, and kept eating my conventional breakfast quietly. Only when my friend entered the dining hall, and told me he heard the shots coming out of one of the shacks I rushed out immediately, leaving all behind. Soldiers ran haphazardly out of that shack, terrified and confused, shouting hysterically for a medic. I walked the opposite way straight into the shack. The first image I saw was dreadful, it was like million knives stabbing every inch of my skin – a dead soldier lying on the corridor’s floor, his head covered in a big pool of blood.
Standing there, helpless, waiting for a secret sign that would help me to snap out of this enormous shock, was one of the most arduous situations of my life. It seemed to last forever, but after a few seconds I ran towards the dead body and examined for any sign of life. There was no pulse. Suddenly, terrible shouts came out of the nearby room. I peeped into the room and saw one of the medics of our unit, a man I had known and respected, lying on the floor shaking, and holding his stomach. I ran outside as fast as I could in order to bring my medical accessories, and try to save the medic’s life.
When I got back with my equipment, the Doctor and two other medics were already there. I could see their petrified faces as they were trying to figure out how to save the medic’s life, and prevent this sorrowful tragedy. I joined the crew, following blindly after the Doctor’s orders. I couldn’t speak during that scene. I don’t know why. I guess it was too quick, too cruel, too shocking, too realistic, and maybe too much for me. Just a blurred set of actions.
As he was screaming the name of his girlfriend frantically, everybody quit their deeds for a second, watching desperately his agonized face. One of the medics tried to convince him everything would be fine, and he would see his girlfriend many times, but when he lost consciousness, a real panic dispersed all over the room, and the efforts to save his life reached to its most crucial stage.
After the Helicopter left, with the wounded medic on it, struggling for his life, the sense of shock didn’t leave me, and the acute images of that awful scene refused to disappear from my head. I went through those moments with my mind in a fog, trying to figure out what really happened in that shack. The answer was simple in its cruelty. Apparently those two soldiers had a small dispute about their guarding shifts, and this ‘matter of no importance’ led them into a whirling vortex of violence. The medic broke the other soldier’s nose, and ran away to his shack. As an act of revenge the other soldier chased the medic to his room, took three shots at him with his personal gun, and then killed himself with the same weapon.
I’ve never thought how a small, mindless argument can lead to such devastating consequences, and how the animal nature of the human kind can easily be revealed. The silly dissent, that could have been solved peaceably, unfortunately, caused the worst nightmare of any army – two soldiers who instead of fighting the enemy, fight each other.
This story has a sad ending. The wounded medic didn’t make it and died in the hospital. We hadn’t managed to save his life. I hadn’t managed to save his life.
A big military funeral took place the day after, and I saw his family and friends crying for their beloved deceased. I saw his girlfriend, delicate and pale, trying to hold her tears back unsuccessfully. I saw her face and I heard his screams from yesterday. I couldn’t perceive anything else – just her face and his screams. Maybe I could have done more at the scene to save his life, and this whole tragedy would have been averted – but I didn’t, and the pain in this young girl’s heart as well as the pain in my heart will last forever.