My military service spanned from 1984 to 2006.

In 2004, I worked in a Combat Support Hospital in Baghdad. The helicopter image shows the landing zone at our hospital. It was a very busy piece of real estate! The other picture shows a little kid that we took care of. He lost his eye when he picked up an unexploded bomblet from a cluster bomb. Cluster bombs are packed with dozens of smaller bomblets. The bomb dispenses them a little above the ground. Each bomblet is packed with ball bearings. They all detonate just above the ground and spray ball bearings in every direction, somewhat like a popcorn popper from Hell. I was told that the bomblets were painted yellow leaving a bright and pretty little packet lying on the ground just waiting for someone to pick it up and boom!

His father who is also pictured with us brought him to us after he developed an abscess in the eye socket. He stayed by his side around the clock. He was getting ready to go home.
We were very busy at that time and went through a lot of units of blood, faster than the Red Cross could resupply us. Obviously, running out of blood was not an option so we would sometimes be called on to donate a pint. I was awakened early one morning by someone banging on the doors of the building I slept in, calling for people with my blood type to donate. I dragged myself over to the lab, gave a pint, and went back to bed for a couple of hours. My copy of the paperwork got shoved in my cargo pocket, forgotten immediately.

The next day was very busy. There were a lot of casualties and a lot of blood was transfused. I was hanging a unit and going through the checking process with one of our nurses. It was a unit of O Positive, which is my type. I remembered the paperwork I had been given, checked it, and sure enough, the unit of blood I had just hung was mine. I asked the soldier receiving it how he was doing, and then said, “Listen, after you get this pint of blood, not only will you feel better…. you’re gonna be smarter, better looking… and your dick is gonna grow 2 inches.”

His reaction was predictable…

I told him it was my blood, which really hung him up. He had no idea what to say, which was ok because I had other casualties to take care of. I moved on, and honestly, forgot all about him. He survived, but a couple days later had to be flown to Germany for further care. I saw him as he was being wheeled to the helipad. He gave me a really dirty look, pointed at his crotch, and yelled at me, “You lied! It’s 2 inches SHORTER now!” Then he grinned, shook my hand, and thanked me. I wished him well and helped him into the helicopter.

I have no idea how things turned out for him, but if you meet a really handsome, intelligent veteran who’s hung like a mouse, tell him Doc A says hello…
~ Clark Anderson, Iraq War Veteran

God Bless all who serve and keep us safe. We are very thankful to Clark for sharing his story with Comes A Soldier’s Whisper veteran tribute page and invite you to share your service photos and a memory of your wartime experience.

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