And to everyone who ever tried to convince me that I couldn't win, thank you for inspiring me to prove you wrong. Na-na na-na boo-boo. - Mary Jennings Hegar

My first patient was my first casualty. He left a tar of blood and dust an inch deep on the Pave Hawk floor. After shutting down the aircraft and getting it ready for our next mission, I walked the hundred yards across the courtyard, past the barracks, the chow hall, the gym, and the TOC to the hospital to confirm what I already knew in my heart- we had lost him. I would have known it even if I hadn't seen him lose so much blood. A palpable sense of loss hung heavy in the dust and heat all around me.

The boy's father boarded the aircraft alongside his son but wouldn't speak to us. He just glared at us with his sun-darkened, wrinkled eyes. It was as if he expected us to try to kill them both at any minute. The little boy, on the other hand, quickly stole our hearts. We could see that he was in pain and utterly terrified. The sound of the helicopter was probably the loudest, most frightening thing he had ever experienced, and Thor, who was checking his vitals, was clearly scaring him. It was at that time my medic won my loyalty forever. I had never really noticed, but apparently, Thor carried a Beanie Baby-sized teddy bear on his vest for times just like this. When he pulled it from its pouch and then lifted the boy's hand to place the bear on his chest, the little boy's fear disappeared. The smile that briefly crossed his face before he snuggled into the teddy bear was the type of moment that reminded us why we were over there. After we got him back to the base and into the hospital, I couldn't seem to get him out of my mind. I kept going back to visit this little angel, as I often did to my other patients, to see how he was doing. Each day he looked a little better. On the third day, I came in to see him, but he wasn't there. I was disappointed not to see him but was so happy that he had recovered enough to go home. One of the nurses who knew me walked over to me as I smiled down at his empty bed. "I'm so sorry. I guess it was just too much for his little lungs." He hadn't gotten better- he had contracted pneumonia and died the previous night. I walked out trying to convince myself that it was okay, that he had died peacefully, but no matter how I painted it in my mind, to this day I cry for that sweet casualty of this terrible war.

As we crossed the border into Kandahar, our C-130 plane went dark to help protect us from any enemy ground troops in the area. The aircraft entered into a rapid descent to get us on the ground as quickly and safely as possible. We knew this kind of landing was standard and most of us expected it, but it also seemed like it completely unnerved everyone. It felt like it was the first time we were vulnerable to enemy fire, and all of us knew it was just the beginning. Welcome to Afghanistan.