I was the only soldier moving, running from one wounded soldier to the next. ![]() I watched as our morphine supply was depleted. I lost count after the first 10 men went down. One day, we were caught in an ambush inside a minefield. Their trust in me was implicit and unbreakable. As I tended to the wounded, I would enter a deep trance in order to block out the terror and take care of them. The trauma of trying to save someone in this situation while the enemy is trying to kill you is indescribable. I only remember the screams of “Medic!”-the soldiers calling for me as they fell. In combat, a limb severed by a land mine explosion is never clean. I provided first-response medical assistance to soldiers who suffered traumatic leg amputations caused by antipersonnel mines. ![]() ![]() When I was 19, I was drafted into the US Army during the Vietnam War, and assigned to serve as a combat medic. As a pre-med student, I had a part-time job working in an emergency room. I was going to be a doctor, just as my parents wanted me to. I was raised in a middle-class suburb near San Juan, Puerto Rico. I never believed anything bad could happen to me. A combat veteran charts a new course as a yoga teacher.
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