Overcoming Adversity

Sergeant Motivates Himself to 'Drive On'

Wounded Warrior Diaries: Sergeant Motivates Himself to 'Drive On'

Office of the Secretary of Defense Public Affairs  Story by Christen McCluney

09.22.2009  WASHINGTON - Army Sgt. 1st Class Jarrett Jongema grew up watching war movies, and later on, documentaries about military life and war, but it wasn't until he was injured by a suicide car bomber that he gained a deeper and more personal understanding of their perspectives.

Jongema was wounded Sept. 18, 2004, while providing security in Baghdad.

"I always did my job in the military; however, [the movies] didn't necessarily impact me," he said. "I saw 'Band of Brothers' before I was injured. 'Saving Private Ryan' moved me, but I can't say that I felt a direct connection with any of the characters. Now, it's ... really different.

"I don't think that you can truly grasp the understanding of 'comrade' or the intent that 'Band of Brothers' or any of those movies tried to get across unless you have truly been in those shoes," he continued. "I wear a [size] 9 and a half. There are many soldiers that wear 9 and a half, but there are not very many that have been in my shoes."

Marine amputee rejoins battalion

Marine amputee rejoins battalion; returns to combat after near death experience

Article and photos by Sgt. Ray Lewis

Task Force 2d Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, Special Purpose Marine Air Ground Task Force

Monday, October 27, 2008  CAMP BARBER, Helmand Province, Afghanistan – There was blood in the water. It was a grim addition to the Iraqi sewage canal usually littered with dead sheep and festering fish.

That’s where the Marines of Company E, 2d Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division found their comrade after the attack.

Just seconds before, Cpl. Garrett S. Jones was patrolling the streets of Iraq with his team when he was suddenly hurled 15 feet into the air by an enemy booby trap.

“It was just a big dust cloud,” said Cpl. Robert C. Pofahl, who stood 10 feet in front of Jones when the bomb detonated. “I ran toward him, and I fell in the canal. The mud was almost up to my knees. It was probably the worst smell you could smell. That’s when I saw the blood in the water.”

When Pofahl saw Jones lying there, he feared his friend’s life was cut short. Barely alive, Jones’ life was about to be changed forever.

Pofahl remembers an explosion, tumbling forward, turning back around and hearing Jones yell at the top of his lungs. He then raced to put a tourniquet on Jones’ mangled bloody left leg.

“It sounded like I was whispering and because of the explosion, I couldn’t catch my breath,” Jones said.

When Pofahl arrived at Jones’ position, he realized he couldn’t lift him out of the canal. The muddy water almost made it impossible for Pofahl to grab a hold of Jones.

The Recovery of J.R. Salzman

WASHINGTON — The fog stands out for him now. It was the densest he'd seen, not just in Iraq, but ever, a foreboding murk that repelled even the spotlights on his Humvee. The dampness had turned the ground at supply base into muddy slop. For some reason, he had felt compelled to snap a lot of photos that night. Otherwise, the night of December 19, 2006, was shaping up to be routine for J.R. Salzman: an all-night drive leading 20 empty fuel tankers south through Baghdad to Tallil Air Base, watching for bombs all the way.

He crammed himself into the passenger seat, swaddled in the gear of war: two radios, a GPS and a computer on the console, an M4 carbine rifle, night vision goggles, body armor on his person, a cooler full of drinks. He carried more ammo than anyone else in his unit — always saying that if he died in Iraq, it wouldn't be for lack of bullets — and fully outfitted, he was heavy enough that he had to sit on a cushion he called his "ass pillow." Salzman had been running these sorts of escorts for most of a year, and if there was one thing he had learned, it was to bring a cushion. The two times he forgot it, he was sore for weeks.

One Deployment-Three Purple Hearts

Medic Earns Three Purple Hearts During One Deployment to Iraq

By Samantha L. Quigley American Forces Press Service

WASHINGTON, Dec. 1, 2008 – If Army Staff Sgt. Matthew Sims was a cat, he’d have only six lives left after his yearlong deployment to Iraq with the 1st Armored Division’s Company B, 2/70th Armor Battalion, out of Fort Riley, Kan.

Army Staff Sgt. Matthew Sims, a medic who was wounded three times during his last deployment to Iraq, is preparing to deploy again. Courtesy photo    (Click photo for screen-resolution image);high-resolution image available.

“I was wounded three times in Iraq the last time I was there,” Sims said of the deployment that began in January 2005.

Sims, a medic, was riding in a tracked ambulance between two M1-A1 Abrams tanks when a roadside bomb detonated. Shrapnel pierced the vehicle and penetrated his flak vest, puncturing his left lung.

He was evacuated to the hospital in Balad. He spent about three weeks recovering before returning to his unit, but it was only the first of three stays at the hospital.

“They know me there,” he said with a chuckle.

Three months after he’d returned to duty, his unit was on a foot patrol when it started taking enemy mortar fire. One mortar landed near Sims.