Jimd
07-22-2005, 03:17 PM
'Never quit': Bomb scars fuel F'ville soldier's determination to return to
Iraq
By JOHN MUNFORD
jmunford@TheCitizenNews.com
Brian Doyne, a 1997 graduate of Fayette County High School, freely admits he
knew the risk of his job with the U.S. Army as an explosive ordinance
disposal specialist.
He could have been killed, or severely maimed.
"Even if we do our job right, we could still come home in a body bag, or
come home maimed like I did," Doyne said.
Doyne, 26, was gravely injured Feb. 24 when two bombs blew up while he
investigated a bombing in Tikrit that severely damaged an M-1 tank and
injured its driver.
After sweeping the area for more explosive devices, Doyne and his team
leader began looking for clues that would help soldiers protect themselves
and Iraqi citizens from similar explosives in the future.
A second wave of bombs then exploded, sending Doyne 30 feet in the air and
killing Daniel Gene Gresham of Chicago, who was Doyne's best friend and team
leader.
Doyne remembers being in a fog right after the blast, looking at his
severely damaged left arm and thinking to himself, "This really sucks." Both
his lower legs were shattered in several places and he knew he couldn't
move. He couldn't even use his right hand to get a bandage, as it too was
severely injured.
He had lost so much blood on scene that medics couldn't start an IV until he
was in surgery.
Bomb fragments littered his body, and 80 pieces were taken out of his face
alone before his first surgery at the hospital in Tikrit, which was a
lengthy ordeal just to get him stabilized.
For a few minutes, on the medic helicopter after the explosion, Doyne
thought about giving up, particularly after learning of the extensive damage
to his left eye. But it didn't take him long to figure out that would be the
coward's way, and he would have none of it.
"My attitude about all of this is there's no point in me getting upset about
what happened because I can't change it," Doyne said. "Do I wish I had my
arm back? Heck yeah. Do I wish I could see out of my left eye? Heck yeah,
but I can't change that fact so why get upset about it or dwell on it?"
That way of thinking would serve him well in coming months, as he progressed
from being bedridden while his legs healed in traction. Doctors said it
would be six months before Doyne would walk, and he'd always have a limp.
That didn't sit well with Doyne and he pushed the medical staff to let him
walk sooner than they wanted, particularly after progress he made on his own
while recuperating at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington.
Encouraged by his ability to stand on his own, one day he wanted a bottle of
juice that was literally four steps away. He gingerly put weight on his legs
and walked to get the bottle.
It was the first step in a long recovery. There have been plenty of "bad
days" while recovering, Doyne admitted. He reacts with distaste as he
recalls being bound to a wheelchair.
Learning to walk again was difficult, as he used muscles that had been
dormant for months.
But every time he thought about quitting, Doyne convinced himself to "wait
until tomorrow" to quit. He recalled a sign he had seen in EOD training:
"The only easy day was yesterday."
Armed with that spirit, he pushed himself harder than the medical staff at
Walter Reed wanted. Instead of stopping where they wanted him to in physical
therapy sessions, he stopped when the pain became too intense.
Doyne is now an outpatient at Walter Reed and he's gotten the hang of his
prosthetic arm, which allows him to do much more than he ever envisioned. He
recently came home to Fayetteville for a visit with his parents, William G.
Doyne and Linda Doyne. Mrs. Doyne has been staying in Washington with her
son as there are still a few things he can't do yet, he said.
And if the younger Doyne gets his way, after three or maybe four more
surgeries, he'll be pronounced fit enough to go back to his old job, one he
dearly loves and misses.
"Thank God for plastic surgeons," Doyne said, recalling how one fragment
tore through his mouth, creating a large hole on the right side. He has some
scarring on his face and black areas where the fragments imbedded themselves
in his skin. One of the fragments severed the optic nerve in his left eye.
The force of the explosion blew out both his eardrums.
While folks have said they admire him for fighting his way through physical
therapy and for his military service, Doyne contends that he has done
nothing special, and he's no different from the 500 or so other amputees at
Walter Reed Medical Center: He's doing it just so he can live a normal life.
"Anything less than the best I can give is failure," Doyne said. "I will not
fail. It's that simple."
As for the physical therapy he still does, Doyne says it gets monotonous and
he's ready to go back to his unit in Tikrit.
A lefty all his life, he's learned to write with his right hand. He has
adapted.
"Anybody who looks at me and says, you're an amputee, you can't do that,
they have no idea how strong I am," Doyne said. "You can look at me and say
I'm sorry that happened, but don't pity me or think my sacrifice was for
nothing."
The doctors have told him he won't run again, either.
"And I'll prove them wrong on that," Doyne said.
Doyne was hit by a 155 mm mortar round that used 22 pounds of explosives and
60 pounds of pure metal. Doyne's body armor saved his life. He also had on
safety goggles and a Kevlar helmet.
Doyne contends the risk of his life and others is worth it for the honor of
being able to protect the lives of other servicemen and civilians, he said.
His unit's duties included handling unexploded devices and artillery in
addition to following up after raids to confiscate devices or parts used in
bomb-making.
After explosions, Doyne and his team would be called in to investigate what
type of bomb was employed, largely so soldiers could figure out how to
defend themselves from such explosives.
"It was a challenge every day," he said. "You never knew what would happen."
The bombs are rigged with various detonation devices usually attached to
artillery or mortar shells, Doyne said. His unit has also found professional
bomb components used by insurgents, who smuggle them into the country to
disrupt the coalition presence.
Car alarms and long-range cordless phones have also been used to detonate
insurgents' bombs, Doyne said.
And it wasn't just in the bomb-makers handiwork that the bombs got their
deadly nature. It was also the tactics used by insurgents, who would plant
hoax bombs specifically to study how Doyne's unit responded to investigate
them, he said.
"They tried to learn how we operated so they could kill us easier," Doyne
said. "They wanted to see if we did things exactly the same every time out."
Doyne's unit was on call 24 hours a day and thus handled no extra duties.
Typically they'd get called out six to eight times a day with a minimum of
an hour and a half spent on each incident. Each one, in turn, demands 100
percent of their attention the entire time, he added.
"Our attitude is we'd rather get called out hundreds of times and have
nothing happen than get called out one time and have somebody get hurt,"
Doyne said. "Our main focus in EOD is saving lives."
Doyne's 2003 tour in Afghanistan played a big part in doing just that, as
Doyne's handiwork with clearing fields of landmines and disposing of weapons
caches helped save "hundreds of thousands of lives."
"What more could I want than to have that kind of impact on the lives of
other people? Saving the lives of my brothers in arms, what more can you ask
for?"
Since coming back stateside, Doyne has taken umbrage with the mostly
negative media coverage of the war in Iraq.
He cites the many times Iraqi citizens have encouraged him with a smile or
thumbs up to recognize the U.S. troops, letting them know they're there for
the right reasons, Doyne said.
"The Iraqis will shake your hand and pat you on the back and say, 'Thank
you, thank you,' because those are the only words in English they know,"
Doyne said, adding that such displays of affection helped strengthen his
resolve.
"It just made you feel good to have that visible show of support," he said.
With all the negative media coverage, Doyne said he isn't surprised there
are stirrings among the general public about finding a way to end the war in
Iraq.
"If we're doing such a bad thing over there, why did that many people come
out to vote in the first Iraqi elections?" Doyne said. "Why did so many
people risk their lives to get that purple stamp on their finger to show
that they voted?"
Moreover, the Iraqi people are jubilant to have freedoms that Americans take
for granted, such as the right to speak out against the government, Doyne
noted.
Doyne hasn't yet inspected the armor he wore that day, and although he can
freely talk about the explosion that nearly killed him, he fears seeing the
damaged armor "will make me relive that day."
"In all honesty, I shouldn't be here today," Doyne said. "The reason I am
sitting here is by the grace of God."
Still, he wants to go back, to rejoin his unit, to dissect bombing incidents
and safely handle discovered weapons caches so conditions can be made safer.
"I want to get back to my job, get back to doing something meaningful,"
Doyne said.
"I'm here for a reason," Doyne said. "There's something I've left undone or
unaccomplished."
Iraq
By JOHN MUNFORD
jmunford@TheCitizenNews.com
Brian Doyne, a 1997 graduate of Fayette County High School, freely admits he
knew the risk of his job with the U.S. Army as an explosive ordinance
disposal specialist.
He could have been killed, or severely maimed.
"Even if we do our job right, we could still come home in a body bag, or
come home maimed like I did," Doyne said.
Doyne, 26, was gravely injured Feb. 24 when two bombs blew up while he
investigated a bombing in Tikrit that severely damaged an M-1 tank and
injured its driver.
After sweeping the area for more explosive devices, Doyne and his team
leader began looking for clues that would help soldiers protect themselves
and Iraqi citizens from similar explosives in the future.
A second wave of bombs then exploded, sending Doyne 30 feet in the air and
killing Daniel Gene Gresham of Chicago, who was Doyne's best friend and team
leader.
Doyne remembers being in a fog right after the blast, looking at his
severely damaged left arm and thinking to himself, "This really sucks." Both
his lower legs were shattered in several places and he knew he couldn't
move. He couldn't even use his right hand to get a bandage, as it too was
severely injured.
He had lost so much blood on scene that medics couldn't start an IV until he
was in surgery.
Bomb fragments littered his body, and 80 pieces were taken out of his face
alone before his first surgery at the hospital in Tikrit, which was a
lengthy ordeal just to get him stabilized.
For a few minutes, on the medic helicopter after the explosion, Doyne
thought about giving up, particularly after learning of the extensive damage
to his left eye. But it didn't take him long to figure out that would be the
coward's way, and he would have none of it.
"My attitude about all of this is there's no point in me getting upset about
what happened because I can't change it," Doyne said. "Do I wish I had my
arm back? Heck yeah. Do I wish I could see out of my left eye? Heck yeah,
but I can't change that fact so why get upset about it or dwell on it?"
That way of thinking would serve him well in coming months, as he progressed
from being bedridden while his legs healed in traction. Doctors said it
would be six months before Doyne would walk, and he'd always have a limp.
That didn't sit well with Doyne and he pushed the medical staff to let him
walk sooner than they wanted, particularly after progress he made on his own
while recuperating at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington.
Encouraged by his ability to stand on his own, one day he wanted a bottle of
juice that was literally four steps away. He gingerly put weight on his legs
and walked to get the bottle.
It was the first step in a long recovery. There have been plenty of "bad
days" while recovering, Doyne admitted. He reacts with distaste as he
recalls being bound to a wheelchair.
Learning to walk again was difficult, as he used muscles that had been
dormant for months.
But every time he thought about quitting, Doyne convinced himself to "wait
until tomorrow" to quit. He recalled a sign he had seen in EOD training:
"The only easy day was yesterday."
Armed with that spirit, he pushed himself harder than the medical staff at
Walter Reed wanted. Instead of stopping where they wanted him to in physical
therapy sessions, he stopped when the pain became too intense.
Doyne is now an outpatient at Walter Reed and he's gotten the hang of his
prosthetic arm, which allows him to do much more than he ever envisioned. He
recently came home to Fayetteville for a visit with his parents, William G.
Doyne and Linda Doyne. Mrs. Doyne has been staying in Washington with her
son as there are still a few things he can't do yet, he said.
And if the younger Doyne gets his way, after three or maybe four more
surgeries, he'll be pronounced fit enough to go back to his old job, one he
dearly loves and misses.
"Thank God for plastic surgeons," Doyne said, recalling how one fragment
tore through his mouth, creating a large hole on the right side. He has some
scarring on his face and black areas where the fragments imbedded themselves
in his skin. One of the fragments severed the optic nerve in his left eye.
The force of the explosion blew out both his eardrums.
While folks have said they admire him for fighting his way through physical
therapy and for his military service, Doyne contends that he has done
nothing special, and he's no different from the 500 or so other amputees at
Walter Reed Medical Center: He's doing it just so he can live a normal life.
"Anything less than the best I can give is failure," Doyne said. "I will not
fail. It's that simple."
As for the physical therapy he still does, Doyne says it gets monotonous and
he's ready to go back to his unit in Tikrit.
A lefty all his life, he's learned to write with his right hand. He has
adapted.
"Anybody who looks at me and says, you're an amputee, you can't do that,
they have no idea how strong I am," Doyne said. "You can look at me and say
I'm sorry that happened, but don't pity me or think my sacrifice was for
nothing."
The doctors have told him he won't run again, either.
"And I'll prove them wrong on that," Doyne said.
Doyne was hit by a 155 mm mortar round that used 22 pounds of explosives and
60 pounds of pure metal. Doyne's body armor saved his life. He also had on
safety goggles and a Kevlar helmet.
Doyne contends the risk of his life and others is worth it for the honor of
being able to protect the lives of other servicemen and civilians, he said.
His unit's duties included handling unexploded devices and artillery in
addition to following up after raids to confiscate devices or parts used in
bomb-making.
After explosions, Doyne and his team would be called in to investigate what
type of bomb was employed, largely so soldiers could figure out how to
defend themselves from such explosives.
"It was a challenge every day," he said. "You never knew what would happen."
The bombs are rigged with various detonation devices usually attached to
artillery or mortar shells, Doyne said. His unit has also found professional
bomb components used by insurgents, who smuggle them into the country to
disrupt the coalition presence.
Car alarms and long-range cordless phones have also been used to detonate
insurgents' bombs, Doyne said.
And it wasn't just in the bomb-makers handiwork that the bombs got their
deadly nature. It was also the tactics used by insurgents, who would plant
hoax bombs specifically to study how Doyne's unit responded to investigate
them, he said.
"They tried to learn how we operated so they could kill us easier," Doyne
said. "They wanted to see if we did things exactly the same every time out."
Doyne's unit was on call 24 hours a day and thus handled no extra duties.
Typically they'd get called out six to eight times a day with a minimum of
an hour and a half spent on each incident. Each one, in turn, demands 100
percent of their attention the entire time, he added.
"Our attitude is we'd rather get called out hundreds of times and have
nothing happen than get called out one time and have somebody get hurt,"
Doyne said. "Our main focus in EOD is saving lives."
Doyne's 2003 tour in Afghanistan played a big part in doing just that, as
Doyne's handiwork with clearing fields of landmines and disposing of weapons
caches helped save "hundreds of thousands of lives."
"What more could I want than to have that kind of impact on the lives of
other people? Saving the lives of my brothers in arms, what more can you ask
for?"
Since coming back stateside, Doyne has taken umbrage with the mostly
negative media coverage of the war in Iraq.
He cites the many times Iraqi citizens have encouraged him with a smile or
thumbs up to recognize the U.S. troops, letting them know they're there for
the right reasons, Doyne said.
"The Iraqis will shake your hand and pat you on the back and say, 'Thank
you, thank you,' because those are the only words in English they know,"
Doyne said, adding that such displays of affection helped strengthen his
resolve.
"It just made you feel good to have that visible show of support," he said.
With all the negative media coverage, Doyne said he isn't surprised there
are stirrings among the general public about finding a way to end the war in
Iraq.
"If we're doing such a bad thing over there, why did that many people come
out to vote in the first Iraqi elections?" Doyne said. "Why did so many
people risk their lives to get that purple stamp on their finger to show
that they voted?"
Moreover, the Iraqi people are jubilant to have freedoms that Americans take
for granted, such as the right to speak out against the government, Doyne
noted.
Doyne hasn't yet inspected the armor he wore that day, and although he can
freely talk about the explosion that nearly killed him, he fears seeing the
damaged armor "will make me relive that day."
"In all honesty, I shouldn't be here today," Doyne said. "The reason I am
sitting here is by the grace of God."
Still, he wants to go back, to rejoin his unit, to dissect bombing incidents
and safely handle discovered weapons caches so conditions can be made safer.
"I want to get back to my job, get back to doing something meaningful,"
Doyne said.
"I'm here for a reason," Doyne said. "There's something I've left undone or
unaccomplished."