Citizen Airmen from medical squadron answer a compassionate calling

  • Published
  • By Tech. Sgt. Leo Brown
  • 442nd Fighter Wing Public Affairs
RAMSTEIN AIR BASE, Germany --  Storage shelves at the Contingency Aeromedical Staging Facility here are loaded with bandages, syringes and pills of all sizes. The staff here isn't short on anything they need as they serve wounded troops flying in daily on C-17s and KC-135s from Iraq and Afghanistan. 

They know that such items are necessary to accomplish their mission, but they also know that they have to keep well-stocked with mental strength, good humor and big hearts, especially given their clientele of young Soldiers and other military members, some of whom face enormous battles now that their combat time is over. 

Two staff members on temporary duty with the CASF, Maj. Kuknomi Clarke and Tech. Sgt. Shea Harkness, both Air Force reservists with the 710th Medical Squadron at Offutt Air Force Base, Neb., said they are doing one of the toughest jobs they've ever had. At the same time, they quickly add, that it's been one of the most rewarding. 

The 710th MDS is part of the 442nd Fighter Wing at Whiteman AFB, Mo., but is a "geographically separated unit," locted at Offutt. 

Major Clarke, a registered nurse and the officer-in-charge of "Delta shift," a 12-hour stint, and Sergeant Harkness, a medical technician and in-house coordinator for the shift, said they wear many hats, depending on patients' needs, as they provide, in the major's words, "psycho-social support." 

Their patients, depending on their injuries, are preparing to travel to the Landstuhl Army Medical Center, a 15-minute drive from here; or to the Ramstein flight-line for a an eight-hour journey to Andrews Air Force Base, Md. 

Sergeant Harkness, a former combat medic with the National Guard, said she's a jack-of-all-trades. She does everything from getting medical histories from patients and watching them for TBI - traumatic brain injury - to showing them where they'll sleep and where they can smoke. 

"I have to be a mom, a medic, a big sister, a little sister, someone who will just listen," Sergeant Harkness said, adding that one of the most important traits she and her co-workers have to show is compassion. 

"Just realizing that these people have seen the most horrific things in their lives," she said. "When I wake them up, I don't touch them, because they'll come up with fists ready to fight, because they're still in battle. 

"And I just want to take them to breakfast," she said, smiling. 

"You have to step back and realize what's in their minds and remember that what they need in that moment is to know they're safe - that they're in the CASF in Germany," Sergeant Harkness said. 

"They really unload over a breakfast table," she said. "My best counseling is done over an omelet. Their stories are battle-related and I try not to focus on the details - a blown-up vehicle or this person lost his leg. I just let them get that out and try to bring them back to a happier place and give them a little hope for a brighter future." 

"Some of (the wounded) have been down-range for months," Major Clarke said. "They haven't seen anything green - any trees - for a long time and their eyes just get big. You can see tears rolling down their cheeks. They're young people - 18, 19, 20 years old. 

"It is sad to watch those people - the amputees," she said. Some, with both legs gone. They can give a smile. It's heart-breaking to see and at the same time it's rewarding, seeing them smile." 

"One sad story - I remember an amputee patient who lost both legs," the major said. "He was trying to crawl. He looked sad, but in a way he tried to comfort us by smiling at us. He was maybe 23 or 24 years old." 

While most of the patients are young military members coming from combat, Major Clarke said there are exceptions. Their youngest patient was a three-day-old baby, born in the Middle East to a 22-year-old military member who didn't know she was pregnant. Their oldest patient was an 80-year-old woman, a dependent of a retired member, who needed to get to the United States for medical treatment. 

"One patient was three and a half years old," she said. "A little boy from Iraq. He had 45 percent of his body burned when some kind of propane tank blew up. He was being taken to Cincinnati, Ohio, to a burn center. We had a translator for his mom and I helped take care of her while we were waiting for transportation to the States. Her husband had been killed a year ago during the war." 

Both Citizen Airmen said they've seen everything from great success stories to the saddest of images. 

"It's sad, seeing the coffins with the remains of the dead," Major Clarke said. "That's one of the saddest things I've seen. They'll have American flags spread over them. Everyone stands at attention and it's very sobering." 

The major said it's challenging to care for the patients and maintain a healthy emotional balance. 

"I try not to remember names," she said. "Otherwise, I get too emotionally involved. It can be sad and disturbing so I try to focus on the diagnosis and ages." 

"Being around them, we try not to show emotions too much," said Major Clarke, who, as a civilian, works in the Omaha, Neb., Veterans' Affairs' hospital emergency room. "I work with critically-ill people in my civilian job. Mostly, they're older patients and you kind of expect that. Seeing young people, it's hard to deal with, but we have a chaplain's assistant here and we can talk with him." 

Major Clarke and Sergeant Harkness arrived here in January and while they were supposed to leave in May, the major is planning on staying until September and the sergeant has applied to stay until January. 

"I really like the people I work with here - the permanent party, the reservists who come through," Major Clarke said. "It's really a rewarding job, working with the young people. When my time was up in May, I wasn't sure if I wanted to stay, but this is a once in a lifetime experience, so I extended to September." 

"I've asked to stay for four more months because I love what I do," said Sergeant Harkness, who stands at 5 feet 3 inches and who said she's helped carry around "some big ol' 6-foot infantry men who are kinda woozy." 

"I give (the patients) 110 percent," she said. "I leave here completely exhausted, but they're the reason I'm here. I'm so grateful I have a job where I'm giving back to people who've given back so much to us."