Chapter 17: Homecoming

04 November 2004 – Martin Army Community Hospital, Fort Benning, Georgia

Jeff Knox lay in his hospital bed, alone in his room, for three days after his return to Georgia. Keiko returned to Lancaster when he left Germany. This hospital carried the same faint antiseptic smell as others he’d been in over the years. Even with a combined five days of regular, reliable access to American cable transmissions, Jeff still played catch-up with current events outside the war zone. He hadn’t had time to care while he was deployed.

Boston reveled in its post-championship hangover. Here it was a week after the end of the 2004 World Series and today they again replayed the city’s victory parade highlights on Sports Night in the Daylight. Jeff shook his head. He missed the single most important Boston sports happening of all time, the one literally millions of Red Sox Fans waited all their lives hoping to see, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

He tried to be excited by the win, to share in the joy he saw on the television, but couldn’t find those emotions within himself at the moment. He felt empty. He knew he was tired of seeing the same stories on Sports Night every hour, too.

He was bored out of his mind.

Jeff’s external fixator surrounded his right lower leg from above his ankle to below his knee. That leg was elevated to keep post-operation swelling down. Doctors in Germany made sure the combat support hospital set and pinned his broken tibia properly. They also monitored the jagged, closed tears in his leg where bone fragments punctured the skin for signs of infection. Jeff successfully argued for plain ibuprofen as his pain medicine of choice, further combatting his swelling and preventing routine administration of opioids. The last thing Jeff needed was to develop an addiction, especially when he wanted to return to EMS.

Doctors here used more X-rays and tests to eliminate any worry about damage to the bones in his left leg. A neoprene ankle brace replaced the half-cast in supporting the injured joint when he did his rehab. Despite his cracked ribs and current inability to bear weight on his right leg, Rehabilitation Services hadn’t cut him any slack. His physical therapist still put him through his paces over the two full days he’d been in her care.

Because of his concussion she introduced Jeff to exercises he could do in his room without going to the hospital gym, and without putting any pressure on his lower leg. His upper body now protested the abuse with every move he tried to make today. If all went according to plan the external fixator would be removed from his leg in six weeks. Then he could begin rehab in earnest.

The lights in his room were off and his blinds closed due to his concussion, his door was closed for the same reason. His headache was still there, though at a lower level than when he woke in Germany. He really shouldn’t be watching television, either. The light and sound caused small increases in his pain. He’d been frustrated by the continued pain when he first arrived, and mentioned that to his neurologist the first time she came to check on him.

“Sergeant, you bruised your brain,” she said then. “It’s going to take a little bit for that headache to go away, hopefully less than a week.”

“A week,” he grumbled to himself at that memory.

Jeff heard they planned to keep him here for his rehab and not release him back to his unit or home until he completed it. With the length of time he needed to rehab before a return to Ranger standards could be attempted Jeff worried he’d be dropped from the Regiment. He hoped to recover quickly enough and well enough to continue as a field medic, Ranger or no – mostly, that is. As with the Red Sox victory, a part of him didn’t care. Rehab wouldn’t be anything Donovan Army Community Hospital at Fort Devens couldn’t handle, even on an outpatient basis. In that case, maybe he could convince the Army to let him rehab there. Jeff needed to find someone who could see the logic of freeing up a bed and improving his morale by sending him home.

Still bored he drifted off to sleep.

Hours later he woke to the sound of a large group in the hall. They obviously hadn’t gotten the memo about being quiet in hospitals. The noise they made seemed to wax and wane while he listened and did little to improve his headache. Jeff guessed the group was moving in and out of the rooms on the floor. Housed in the last room on the hall, he stared at the ceiling, waiting.

Jeff waited fifteen minutes for the VIPs to enter. He heard the throng stop outside his door while one of their number explained something, then the colonel of the 75th Ranger Regiment and one other officer came in. Jeff pasted a smile on his face while the colonel hoped out loud for Jeff’s quick return to 3d Battalion. Again, Jeff wasn’t sure he cared either way. The colonel pinned medals and badges to his hospital gown. Through his disinterest Jeff recognized the other officer as someone else from his past.

“Colonel Paradise? We’ve gotta stop meeting like this, ma’am.”

She blinked at him. “Who...?”

“You were one of my nurses at Walter Reed after I was wounded in Panama, ma’am. Jeff Knox from the 82d. I was admitted there as a corporal but discharged as a sergeant.”

“Sergeant Knox!” she smiled. “That’s why your name looked so familiar! I’d ask how you are, but since you’re here that seems like a silly question.” Tara Paradise pulled up a chair for herself and Colonel Aslanian. “You stayed in, too?”

“No, I got out after I got back from the Gulf in ‘91, ma’am. My best friend died over there and I didn’t want to stay in any longer. I went home, became a paramedic, husband, and father. I was half-finished with my MBA when the towers came down, and reenlisted right after.”

“So, you’re one of Colonel Aslanian’s men in 3d Battalion here at Benning?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m a medic with 2d Platoon, Bravo Company. I’m hoping I’ll recover quickly enough to get back to my platoon. If I don’t, I hope I can still be a field medic if the Regiment has to release me.” He shrugged. “I belong to the Army for about another year.”

“When’s your ETS date?” Colonel Aslanian asked.

“05 October of next year, sir.”

“You should recover in – what? – two months or so?” Colonel Paradise asked.

“The bones themselves should recover by then, yes ma’am, as long as everything goes well. We’ll have to see about the rest of my rehab. The twenty-six months I owe the Ranger Regiment would have expired at the end of next June had I not been wounded. I’ve got a little bit of a cushion there.”

“Has your family been by to see you yet?” Greg Aslanian asked.

“My wife visited me while I was at Landstuhl, sir, but she’s back home now. They stayed there when I joined back up. There’d have been too much moving around for our young kids. Our twin boys were four and a half and our daughter three when I reenlisted.”

“Where’s home?”

“Central Massachusetts, sir. A quiet, little town called Lancaster. My house is less than ten miles from Fort Devens and Donovan Army Community Hospital.”

“Has anyone mentioned when you’ll be going on your convalescent leave now that you’re back CONUS?”

“Not yet, ma’am. What I’d really like is to rehab back in Massachusetts and live at home, if that’s at all possible.”

“I don’t know much about the services they have available at Devens. Do you think they would they be able to get you moving in the direction you need to go?”

“My ambulance company contracted to provide paramedics to Fort Devens before I reenlisted, ma’am. The previous base hospital, Cutler Army Hospital, had a good rehab department then and I can’t imagine they didn’t move to the new hospital once it was completed.”

“Would you be able to get over there to use their gym regularly? Would you be able to drive there if you couldn’t get a ride?”

“My in-laws live next door, so I’m sure I could get over there with their help so long as we plan properly. Also, I can do whatever exercises Donovan wants me to do in the gym at my house if I can’t get there.”

“You have a gym at your house?”

“With a sparring mat my wife and I used almost every day.” Colonel Paradise raised an eyebrow. “Karate, ma’am. Keiko is a fifth-dan black belt. I reached second-dan before the attacks. If the rehab department tells me what to do on which machines or on the mat, they’ll get done.”

The colonels looked at each other.

“It’s fine with me,” Greg Aslanian said. “Sergeant Knox’s battalion won’t be home for another six or seven months at the earliest, and due to his injuries they’ve already assigned his platoon another medic. Unless I’m mistaken I’m sure the sergeant would be happier at home with his family while he recovers.”

“You can take that to the bank, sir.”

“I’ll sign off on it, Tara.”

Tara looked at her counterpart before turning back to Jeff.

“Give me a couple of days to look into this for you, Sergeant. Do you need anything in the meantime?”

“No, thanks, ma’am.”

True to her word Colonel Paradise worked on Jeff’s request the following day. She picked up the phone in her office and dialed a number from her rolodex.

“Paulo? Tara Paradise ... I’m about to ask you for a favor. Why else would I be calling you, you skirt-chasing Eyetalian? ... Promises, promises. Here’s the favor...” Tara explained what she hoped to arrange. “Can you sign off on that? ... What about the last part? It might be time for him to ETS before he’s ready, depending on how long it takes him to fully rehab that leg ... You’re the best, Nose...” Tara blushed at whatever her counterpart said next. “That might be arranged ... Absolutely ... Thanks, Paulo.” She smiled as she hung up the phone.

A still smiling Tara Paradise knocked softly on Jeff’s door a few minutes after her phone call. He waved her in.

“It’ll take a couple more days to arrange, Sergeant, but I’m having you transferred to Donovan. You’ll have to sign in as a patient when you get there, but you won’t have to stay even a single night. The hospital commander there, Colonel Iannazzone, will make sure of it.”

“Thank you very much, ma’am.”

Tara waved off the thanks.

“What good is being a hospital commander if you can’t actually wield the authority they delegate to you? Anyway, I’ll need to confirm your address to arrange for the ambulance ride back to your house.”

“I think I might have that covered, ma’am.”

The C-17 bumped down on the runway, but not violently so. From his stretcher’s position in the cargo hold Jeff couldn’t see anything but blue sky out the aircraft’s open cargo ramp. His nurse took off the headset which had protected his hearing during the four-hour flight. Because of his concussion she also gave him another pair of those butt-ugly sunglasses that looked like safety glasses. As one of the less-severely injured patients he would be one of the last to be carried off. The Air Force major gave him a withering gaze when he offered to walk off the plane on his crutches.

Jeff looked around the airfield while he they carried him to a waiting Army medical helicopter. The foliage on the trees outside the fence line was gone by this time in the fall. Their bare branches waved in the cold wind. Despite the chill the bright sunshine caused the air above the tarmac to shimmer with rising heat. The chopper’s crew chief and flight medic shook his hand and welcomed him home once in the aircraft.

“Once we lift it’s only about a ten minute flight to Devens, so no in-flight movie or meal this time,” the medic said over the aircraft headset.

“I’ll try to contain my disappointment,” Jeff replied with a smile. “Once we land I’ll be about seven miles from my house, and less than that to where my wife works and my kids are in school. That’s WAY better than seven thousand!”

“We’re glad this training flight is more than just training, then. Got any plans for your homecoming?”

“Not sure. My family doesn’t know I’m coming home yet.” The medic smiled at what his family’s reaction would probably be.

As promised the flight from Hanscom Air Force Base to Moore Army Airfield at Fort Devens took about ten minutes. The medic had him scoot to the edge of the helicopter while a soldier escorted someone across the tarmac. That someone wore a Brophy EMS uniform and pushed a wheelchair in front of him as he approached. Jeff broke into a smile when he recognized the Brophy employee and hopped over to him on his good leg. It was difficult to know who hugged whom harder – Jeff or Sean Brophy.

“Goddamn it’s good to see you, Jeff!” Sean said, slapping Jeff on the back.

“You, too, buddy. You, too. How’s the family?”

“Good. No changes since we spoke last week.”

“You were able to keep this quiet?”

“Completely. No one else knows you’re home. Do you have your paperwork for the colonel here?”

Jeff looked over to discover the ‘soldier’ was Colonel Iannazzone himself. He’d been too focused on his friend. Jeff drew himself to the best position of attention he could manage and saluted.

“At ease, Sergeant.” Paulo Iannazzone held out his hand after returning the salute. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you very much, sir.”

“Sign this form here, hand me your packet from Martin, and you’re free to go, Sergeant. Where are you surprising your family?”

“My wife works at Devens Regional High School, sir, so that’s the first big stop. After that I’m guessing we’ll drive to Lancaster and the school where our three kids are.”

“Not far at all then. You’re all set as far as Donovan Army Community Hospital is concerned. Check in with Rehab Services by close of business Friday.”

“Wilco, sir.”

“Mr. Brophy, you can leave the wheelchair in the Ops Building and I’ll see it gets back to the hospital. Fall out, Sergeant!”

Jeff snapped to attention and barked, “Rangers lead the way, sir!”

Sean and Jeff detoured to the Ops Building first so Jeff could change. He flew up in his BDUs but brought his Class-As with him, the trousers having been modified to fit over the fixator on his right leg. He cut a dashing figure when he emerged from the room where he changed.

“All set?” Sean asked after helping Jeff into the Brophy supervisor’s SUV, glancing at the newly-returned sergeant in the rear seat. Jeff needed to keep his leg elevated as much as possible.

“Yep. Gotta make one phone call, one stop, and then we’ll be all set to head to the school.”

“Let’s go!”

“Thanks for agreeing to this, Carl.”

“Are you kidding? Geez, I’d have to be the biggest Grinch ever to say no!”

The rubber ends of Jeff’s crutches squeaked on the vinyl flooring in the hall.

“Still, I can’t imagine it’ll be easy to get a sub at this point in the school day.”

“Won’t need to,” Principal Carl Hammond said. “She’s only got one other class scheduled today and I’ll cover it. I feel an in-class writing assignment coming: ‘Tell me what your family means to you.’”

“Ugh. That’s cruel.”

“Maybe so,” Carl chuckled. “Maybe so. Okay, you guys wait here and I’ll...”

The din of the lunchroom assaulted Carl’s ears as soon as he opened the door. He nodded to students here and there while walking to the back corner of the room. There he extracted a key from his pocket and unlocked the audio-visual closet. Noting where his target lay, he picked up the wireless microphone and turned it on.

“Everyone! May I have your attention, please?”

Even with the speakers in the room he could barely be heard above the noise. He thumped the mic with his fingers a few times to get people’s attention. The noise died away quickly.

“Thank you, everybody, I’ll be brief.” Scattered applause rose in response to his assertion, only to die away as quickly. “Where’s Mrs. Knox? Come on over here, Keiko.” Keiko walked over hesitantly, unsure of what was going on. When she stood next to him Carl continued.

“As you all know Mrs. Knox’s husband, Army Staff Sergeant Jeff Knox, deployed to Afghanistan last year. It’s likely also well known that he was wounded in action two weeks ago. That’s where Mrs. Knox was last week – visiting him at his hospital in Germany. The good news is he has already transferred to a military hospital here in the US and will recover fully.” More genuine and sustained applause rose this time.

“Well, Keiko, Jeff arranged to have some flowers sent.” On cue the far doors to the cafeteria opened. In walked Sean Brophy carrying a large arrangement of roses. She smiled as her family friend approached, gave her a hug and a kiss, and stood next to her. “Of course, he wanted to make sure they arrived in good order, so he also arranged for someone to verify they’ve been delivered.”

The far doors opened again, this time revealing Jeff on his crutches. Keiko cried out and burst into tears but stood rooted to the spot. She turned and buried her face in Sean’s shoulder while Jeff approached. The students, realizing who stood in the doorway, broke out in thunderous applause.

“Please welcome home Staff Sergeant Jeff Knox, everyone!”

Keiko released Sean and flew down the aisle of the cafeteria. She crashed into Jeff, still sobbing in surprise and joy. Jeff managed to move the crutches just before impact and held them out away from himself. One of the students reached out to hold them for him. Jeff nodded his thanks to her and turned his attention back to his wife.

Tears of happiness streamed down Keiko’s face as Jeff cupped it and kissed her. After six months apart their kiss was as electric as their first had been. He hadn’t really been ‘home’ when she visited him in Germany. Jeff lost track of how long they stood there kissing, but the students were still applauding when he looked up.

“Honey? I’m home,” he whispered.