YOU COULD DIE ANY DAY. Andreas Meyer
that we are on a mission in a war-torn land.
8. At the medic`s
O
n my daily round through the camp I visit various departments to see if everything is OK. Today I focus especially on the supply group that will receive a new load of barbed wire for the outer camp wall. Besides that, I am waiting for a lot of spare parts for our vehicles.
From a distance, I already see the truck of an Afghan transport company. I watch briefly as the truck is unloaded and checked by the supervising NCO of the supply group if all parts we have ordered were on board or whether I will have to make a phone call like so many times before.
Suddenly I hear the siren of the ambulance and two other vehicles of the security company leaving the camp. I keep on concentrating on the unloading of the truck. Half an hour later I make my way to my office and hear from other comrades that there was an attack in Kunduz. That moment it was not clear if there were Germans among the victims.
I sit in my office feeling bad. The recce squad that had left the camp this morning still isn’t back. When my boss enters my office, I turn to him asking immediately if he has any news. He does not. Further information has not been spread so far. The security component though requested additional personnel.
Sometime later we hear the sirens of a bunch of ambulances entering the camp. There are definitely a lot of casualties I think to myself. We often witness the procedures of wounded being brought to the camp, so we know that our medics take their job seriously and handle it professionally.
At about 1900 I have to meet with the air logistics supervisor to coordinate the loadings for the upcoming day. On the way to him I pass the surgery containers of our medics and watch some red fluid leaving the containers drain hole forming a puddle at the back side of it. That means that our medics had some awful work to do. The thought of me lying on their table one day makes me shiver.
Passing the containers I see two military doctors smoking cigarettes. They were shaking their heads mentioning an afghan police officer being wounded very badly in the attack. I know it should not matter, but in that moment, I am so glad to hear that it was not one of our guys. I am also glad to hear that the afghan police officer has survived.
A few days later I am invited for coffee at the medics’. When I enter the front tent, I see an afghan boy coming up to me. He holds an inflated rubber glove with a smiling face drawn on it with a pen in his hand. The boy is laughing and seems to have so much fun with his "toy". I see a sign saying "coffee corner" and approach it, when the boy somehow stands directly in front of me. He stretches out his hand in my direction holding his rubber glove balloon. I wink at him passing by saying what a lovely balloon he has. The glance in his eyes fascinating me that much that I turn around to him again. What I see shakes me to the bones. Only now I recognize that he is just wearing a surgery shirt exposing his back. Where every healthy person would have buttocks there was just a hole. The pelvic bones were completely revealed under his skin and all the muscles were gone. Whilst playing with a "butterfly mine", his buttocks were blown off.
There are still thousands of these mines lying around everywhere. To the children they just look like unsuspicious toys. The boy I saw is one of so many examples of how dangerous these toys are. This picture will be planted in my head for all times.
A friend of mine from the medics told me that this boy already had ten surgeries and will have to face a few more. Despite his heavy injuries the boy is so incredibly happy and has a love for life that he shows the medical personnel every single day. I just hope that one day he will have a life worth living. Therefore, I wish him all the best.
A jungle truck brings material out of Kabul
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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