“Fortunately I was blessed with so many friends, fellow Marines, and volunteers who for the next 14 months did everything I was unable to do. Of course, I’d still try to do anything I could possibly do on my own. And sometimes friends would give me an ear full, telling me I was risking my health and to just let them do it. What they didn’t understand was how my health actually depended on my taking these risks. Anything I could do for myself, even if small, helped me feel like I was getting back to normal.”
Dr. Girard was assigned to treat Kasal after he settled into his new life as an outpatient at the Balboa Naval Hospital. Navy doctors like Girard specialize in making wounded service members whole again, but it is a tough environment for both the patients and the doctors. For Girard it is never an easy task to treat otherwise healthy young men who have gone from being perfectly normal to permanently injured in the blink of an eye. “Unfortunately,” he says, “it is getting a little easier now. The only way that you see these injuries are in wartime. They are only associated with military rifles and blast injuries. At the beginning of the war it was a little more startling. My colleagues and I—and Navy medicine as a whole—are on the forefront of treating these kinds of injuries.”
Before Dr. Girard could move forward with his plan for treatment, he had to make sure Kasal understood the tremendous hurdles he would have to climb over just to keep his leg, much less stay in the Marine Corps.
“From the beginning he understood that pain was going to be a big part of his life,” Girard says. “He had been on pain medication until he got out of Bethesda. After that he was trying to step that down so he could be more and more lucid. It is unusual for people to do this if you look at the population as a whole. But for the part of the population Brad is in, it is less unusual than it is in the civilian sector. Trying to get off medication is a common thread to folks like him.”
A MODEL FOR OTHERS
Girard sees Kasal as a model for other severely injured patients. “How he has dealt with this shows his tremendous strength of character,” the doctor says. “I use his story a lot when I meet these guys. I use him and some other Marines of equal caliber as examples that people can get better.”
Kasal’s public strength of character was sometimes clouded by his secret reservations about what lay ahead for him and many other Marines who had suffered similar fates.
“I didn’t know if I was fighting a battle to lose,” he concedes. “The doctors talked to me about amputation. They told me, ‘If you amputate we can have you back running in six weeks.’ I would always second-guess and wonder if I should just do that. My whole life consisted of fear of the unknown and second-guessing. Should I get it over with and just amputate?”
Girard said the ghosts that secretly haunted Kasal and other wounded warriors during their odyssey of pain are not unusual among men struck down by debilitating injuries in their prime.
“These young men—strong, healthy go-getters—are injured in an instant and their life is changed,” he says. “They don’t have any time to accommodate or get used to what is going on. Their expectations are naturally very, very high. They want to get back to right where they were a split second before they were shot. Generally it is not realistic.”
Realistic or not, Kasal was determined to regain his independence, his strength, and his career. But for the next 14 months he would have to rely on friends and volunteers for almost everything he needed. They shopped for him, drove him to appointments, cleaned his house, helped with his laundry, and did myriad other tasks he simply could not do himself. It was both a gratifying and humbling experience for a proud, self-reliant Marine.
Some of his helpful friends were his comrades-at-arms from Iraq. Wade helped a lot, as did Mortimer and his wife, Chris; Fox and his wife, Sarah; Lopez; and a large group of civilians who volunteered to help Kasal and other wounded Marines who were flooding into Southern California from the combat zones and needing special personal care the Marine Corps could not provide.
Among these volunteers was Lou Palermo, a former airline flight attendant and museum worker who just wanted to meet a real Marine; Ed Sparks, a retired Navy chief; Geoff and Clyrinda Milke; and Jim Arslanian, a retired Massachusetts cop and one-time sailor, and his wife, Linda. They all remain close friends and often visit each other. Linda still likes to cook for Kasal. He and Jim share sea stories, conversation about books, and all the other things that make Kasal such an interesting man.
BATTLING DOUBTS
Recovery brought a series of new challenges into the life of Brad Kasal, including doubt and depression. “A lot of the depression was caused because I had always been independent and now all of a sudden I could hardly do anything for myself,” he says. “I was used to being active—skiing, mountain climbing, running, camping, scuba diving, just always on the go. Now all of a sudden my life consists of watching TV, playing video games, and watching movies. I was in constant pain and everything else, so depression was a big factor that would kick in sometimes.”
A lot of that depression was caused by fear of the unknown, Kasal says: “For most common injuries, the doctors can tell you what to expect. If you tear your ACL, for example, doctors can predict what you’ll experience and how you’ll recover. But my injuries were so severe and uncommon that it was mostly guess work. And none of the guessing was promising.
“Throughout my long and painful recovery, every doctor said that I’d never run again, that I would walk but with a cane, and I’d never be normal again. And that was their good news! I got numerous recommendations to amputate my leg and get on with my life. But I chose to gut it out. I chose to fight and prove everyone wrong.
“But sometimes doubt and fear would set in, followed by depression. And sometimes I wished I would have died back in that house on November 13th. At least then I would have gone with dignity and honor rather than wasting away in a bed and relying on others for even the simplest of tasks.
“And I’d wonder: What if the doctors are right? What if I will never be normal again? What if I’m enduring this long, painful process just to fail in the end and have them be right? I wondered if maybe I should just amputate and get it over with.
“Then as quickly as the doubt crept in, I’d dismiss it, bite down, and just get more determined. And I’d do something, anything, to try to make myself better. Even if all I could do was grab the phone book and curl it in bed to get stronger in some way.”
Doubt and fear of the unknown are powerful enemies, Kasal says, but in the end the heart is an even more powerful force. “I became determined to get my life back and get back into uniform, no matter what it took. I had never failed anything before and I wasn’t going to fail now with so much at stake. “
Still, progress came slowly, one goal at a time. Kasal was in a hospital bed for 14 months unable to lie flat on his back or on his side. He had to lie with his head and legs constantly elevated. “When I was finally able to lay in a normal bed for the first time, it was like heaven,” he says. “At 15 months I drove for the first time and after 17 months I finally walked without a crutch or cane.”
And after 18 months of misery and indignity, Kasal dared to challenge himself and challenge what every doctor had said he could never do: run. “I wanted to try to run just 50 feet to see if I could do it,” he says. “But I wanted to do it in privacy, because I was embarrassed about my condition.”
He sought out an empty parking lot behind a Kmart store. With a bad foot and grim determination, Kasal charged forward. “I made it for five minutes of a kind of shuffling run,” he says. “It was such an awesome feeling. It was just 50 feet, but I had come so far! Being able to shuffle for five minutes after what I went through felt like completing a marathon.”
Since then Kasal has kept pushing. And on November 9, 2006—almost two years to the day from when he was wounded—he ran a Marine Corps physical fitness test consisting of a 3-mile run, pull-ups, and crunches! Kasal not only passed but earned a first-class score.
His doctor urged him not to run, warning that he would risk further setbacks and long-term degeneration of his damaged leg. Kasal feels he had no choice: “To me it’s about having that sense of normalcy back. And now that I’m back in uniform and once again leading Marines, it’s also about setting an example.”
Impressions can be misleading, however. Most people who see him get the impression that he’s almost back to 100 percent. “In reality I’m about 40 percent of what I used to be,” he confides. His pride and legendary toughness help him hide most of the difficulties, and he refuses to show pain or even discomfort.
“Some may call that macho or stubborn,” he admits, “but it’s just a way of accepting and dealing with my injuries and moving on—and trying to be as normal as I can.
“The truth is, I will always have pain, limited use of my right leg, and a limp. My ankle doesn’t move and I can’t lift my right foot. The circulation is bad in my lower leg due to the trauma and loss of veins, which causes swelling and discomfort. I get frequent migraines from the concussion and effects of the blast, and my hearing is shot.”
Kasal is quick to add, however: “As bad as things may seem, they could always be worse; for more than a year the outlook was that I would never recover to the level I have.”
Beyond that, Kasal has adopted a wait-and-see attitude for the time being. “I have to wait for the next couple of years to pass so I can find out if I will be able to deploy again,” he says hopefully. “I want to be able to return to the operating forces.”
That goal requires a return to full mobility if not full strength. Yet Kasal is determined to get back to combat duty with his beloved Corps. “I won’t stay in unless I am capable of being deployed like any other Marine,” he insists. “I’ve got two years to find out.” At the time of this writing, he is overseeing Marine Corps recruiting efforts in the upper midwest, based in his home state of Iowa.
Dr. Girard thinks that Kasal may be an exception to the unkind fate that befalls many such men and women who have been injured so severely. Even so, Girard worries that Kasal will never reach the pinnacle of fitness he occupied before he was shot down at Fallujah. The human body simply doesn’t make exceptions for people no matter how hard they try. If Kasal succeeds he will have beaten all the odds.
“He has done extremely well,” Girard says. “But for him to be able to return to what he was doing before he was injured—as far as the running and wearing packs and leading people and doing what he was doing—is probably unrealistic. It is hard to imagine that on that leg, that ankle, and that foot he is going to be able to do what he did before.”
Kasal isn’t so sure. It is against his nature to give up and he doesn’t intend to start now.
“I am not yet back to what I used to be, but it is better now. I am going for 100 percent. That is my goal. Will I get there? Who knows? Nobody thought I would get this far, so who is to say I won’t get to 100 percent eventually? What I tell young Marines or soldiers or anyone else in this situation is this:
• “One, do not be afraid to ask for help because there are a lot of people out there who want to help.
• “Two, don’t be afraid to talk about what you are thinking and doing because depression is going to set in no matter how strong you are. It happens to everyone at some point. It may be for 10 minutes or it may be for 10 days, or it may be the whole process. But everybody is going to get depressed sometime. Don’t think you are abnormal for that; talk to somebody.
• “Three, listen to what the doctors tell you, but know that it is all on you also. You are going to succeed or fail based on your own willpower. How bad you want it is going to dictate how much you get back. Whether you will ever be back to 100 percent, who knows? But how good you want to get depends on you.”
RECOGNITION
On May 1, 2006, in a ceremony at Camp Pendleton, Brad Kasal stood at rigid attention in front of his beloved 3/1 Marines while Major General Michael R. Lehnert, Commanding General of Marine Corps Installations West, awarded him the Navy Cross. It is the nation’s second-highest decoration, behind only the Medal of Honor, and as of this writing, only 14 Navy Crosses have been awarded for heroism since the end of the Vietnam War.
Attending the ceremony were the 1st Marine Division’s past and present commanding generals, Lieutenant General James N. Mattis and Major General Richard F. Natonski, the architects of the campaign leading to Fallujah. Their presence alone was high praise indeed.
Kasal’s citation is brief and to the point—the way he likes things, he says. It reads:
The President of the United States takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to First Sergeant Bradley A. Kasal, United States Marine Corps, for service as set forth in the following citation:
For extraordinary heroism while serving as First Sergeant, Weapons Company, 3d Battalion, 1 st Marine Regiment, Regimental Combat Team 1, 1st Marine Division, I Marine Expeditionary Force, U.S. Marine Corps Forces Central Command in support of Operation IRAQI FREEDOM on 13 November 2004.
First Sergeant Kasal was assisting 1st Section, Combined Anti-Armor Platoon as they provided a traveling overwatch for 3d Platoon when he heard a large volume of fire erupt to his immediate front, shortly followed by Marines rapidly exiting a structure. When First Sergeant Kasal learned that Marines were pinned down inside the house by an unknown number of enemy personnel, he joined a squad making entry to clear the structure and rescue the Marines inside.
He made entry into the first room, immediately encountering and eliminating an enemy insurgent, as he spotted a wounded Marine in the next room. While moving towards the wounded Marine Sergeant Kasal and another Marine came under heavy rifle fire from an elevated enemy firing position and were both severely wounded in the legs, immobilizing them. When insurgents threw grenades in an attempt to eliminate the wounded Marines, he rolled on top of his fellow Marine and absorbed the shrapnel with his own body.
When First Sergeant Kasal was offered medical attention and extraction, he refused until the other Marines were given medical attention. Although severely wounded himself, he shouted encouragement to his fellow Marines as they continued to clear the structure.
By his bold leadership, wise judgment, and complete dedication to duty, First Sergeant Kasal reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service.
After pinning on the medal, shaking Kasal’s hand, and offering a few brief remarks, Lehnert concluded the ceremony.
“Some may call a basketball player a hero for scoring the winning goal or a celebrity for donating a small portion of their earnings to a good cause,” Lehnert said, “but Kasal is a true American hero.”
EPILOGUE
PERSONAL
REFLECTIONS
FROM SERGEANT MAJOR
BRAD KASAL, USMC
I would like to thank the countless friends, fellow Marines, people, and organizations who have helped me during my long and difficult recovery from the wounds I received on November 13, 2004. I want to thank our nation’s leaders for allowing us to take the fight to the enemy versus on our own soil; my fellow Marines and our Navy corpsman brothers I’ve served with over the past many years; and the Navy nurses who worked round the clock to provide care while I was hospitalized. Most of all I thank the members of the 3d Battalion, 1st Marines, and all service members worldwide who are serving overseas locating, closing with, and destroying the enemy while keeping the wolf away from the door and maintaining our freedom.
After serving 19 of my last 21 years of service in an infantry unit, I’ve served beside some of the finest men I’ve ever known. Their heroism, courage, and selfless sacrifices truly make them the next greatest generation. While serving this last time in Iraq I witnessed young Marines who would one day watch their buddy become a serious casualty and the next day go right back out on patrol without any hesitation. And to watch young 20-something NCOs step up and serve in billets usually reserved for a rank of one and somet
imes two higher in a stressful combat situation was phenomenal. Marines by the names of Sergeant Comeau, Sergeant Carter, Sergeant Monohan, Sergeant Martinez, Sergeant Hankins, and many others achieved tasks of great stress and responsibility time and again over a very tense and dangerous combat tour. I remember many times going out with them on different missions and wondering “Where do we get these fine men?”
I’d watch these young Marines perform and my chest would swell with pride as a father’s would for his sons. The Marines I had the pleasure to serve beside—in CAAT Platoon and 81s Platoon, Weapons Co., 3/1—were the best, and I cherish the time I had with them. I miss them dearly and these men are the reason I love the Corps so much. I truly had the best job in the world.
Even more amazing were the young PFCs and lance corporals who threw themselves into harm’s way only for the love of their fellow Marines and who assumed greater responsibilities when the situation dictated. My company had our 81mm mortar platoon split up to provide approximately 18 to 20 Marines at two different Iraqi National Guard compounds. The Marines’ responsibility was to train more than 200 fresh Iraqi troops in infantry tactics, MOUT (Military Operations on Urban Terrain), and marksmanship skills so they could take over security of their own country. I would make constant trips out to each ING (Iraqi National Guard) compound in order to check on my Marines and go along with them on whatever missions they were assigned to conduct with the Iraqi National Guard troops.
The responsibility fell upon a handful of NCOs and mostly junior Marines to train these Iraqi soldiers. It is a testament to the caliber of these young PFCs and lance corporals who were 0341 mortarmen and fresh out of their own infantry training as they taught 0311 basic rifleman skills to the Iraqi soldiers as if they were seasoned and veteran NCOs. These were young men with names such as Gomez, Perez, Lu, Jensen, Roiger, and many more. Across the entire battalion, wherever I went as I traveled throughout our area of operations, I saw Marines and our Navy corpsmen performing meritorious and heroic acts of courage and selfless sacrifice. I also saw daily examples of how leadership in combat was vital to the success of the mission.
My Men are My Heroes Page 24
