Routine shift turns into a surreal moment

It’s always been a pleasure and an honor to serve my hometown of North Canaan as a volunteer firefighter and emergency medical technician. Some calls are simple transports, and some are quite harrowing. My evening shift one evening last week was supposed to be another routine shift. Little did I know what an impact this next call would have on me. I wanted to share this story.

Out of respect for the patient and to adhere to HIPAA regulations, I won’t be mentioning names or any medical information. 

We were dispatched to a local nursing home for a seemingly simple illness. The gentleman was in his 90s. As we approached his room, I saw the name on the placard and I knew right away who it was. It was a man whom I had admired for a very long time. He was a brother veteran and a fellow Purple Heart recipient who had lived in town for all of his life. When I walked into the room, I was immediately greeted with a smile and a loud, “Hey Brian! They got you working, do they?” I nodded my head and said, “Yes sir!”

I obtained his information and vitals, ensured that he was resting comfortably and wheeled him to the ambulance. Once he was loaded, I hopped into the back with him and gave a nod to my partner that we were all set. The next 20 minutes would be the some of the most memorable and priceless moments that I could have ever spent with this man. While I continued to assess his vitals and get some more information, all he wanted to do was talk about the connection that we had. 

We both served in the Army, we both fought in wars and we were both Purple Heart recipients. He went on to tell me about the day he landed in France. It was 18 hours after the invasion on Normandy. He told me all about his unit and described the terrain as if he had just come back from there yesterday. He was a young infantryman who was scared to death. But he fought his way through France and ended up in the Battle of Metz. He was only in Europe for a total of 30 days. During that time, he had received shrapnel wounds from exploding ordinance and then, one week later, he was shot in both legs by a German “Burp” gun. 

Those wounds would eventually seal his ticket back home. He told me about the six stops that he had to make before eventually landing at Mitchell Field on Long Island. He said that when he finally landed and woke up, his mom and dad were both standing at the foot of his bed. I tried to remain calm as I listened so intently. He began to shed a tear as he recalled his injuries and the moment his mother kissed his forehead and said, “You’re home now, you’re going to be OK.” Then I started to think of the times that I was wounded and the first moments that I saw my family when I returned stateside. This man was 91 years old. We were the same age, however, when we fought in those great wars. Yet generations divide us today.

When we got to the hospital, I recognized the nurses and ER tech who were on duty, and I assured him that he was in good hands. He stared into my eyes and asked me not to leave until his family got there. I knew exactly what he meant, and so I did. I stayed in his room and I waited until his caretaker arrived. Sixty years may divide us in age, but we are brothers: Bonded by our service to our country, the terrors of war and the Purple Heart that adorns our chests. We never leave a comrade behind. May God continue to bless this mountain of man. 

Thank you, Lord, for granting me the ability to help this hero during his time of need. It was a moment that I will hold close to my heart and one that I will never forget.

Brian Ohler is a lifelong resident of North Canaan. He served as a Military Policeman in the U.S. Army from 2001 until 2013. He is a combat veteran who served three tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan and has been awarded four Purple Heart Medals for wounds received in action. He has been a volunteer firefighter and EMT in North Canaan for 15 years.

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