Jane Cook - Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan

Mel’s relief was overshadowed, however, when a nurse from Georgetown called her and said, “You’ve got to get here now. He is very, very serious.”

Mel was completely unprepared for what she saw when she finally saw her husband in the ICU. He was so swollen, his head was almost as wide as his shoulders. The medical team had already scrubbed some skin off his face and put salve on him, so he looked white, almost transparent. Every place else was covered in bandages. It would be a long, agonizing road ahead.

Lord, when the world falls apart, be my sure foundation, my source of stability.

“He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the Lord is the key to this treasure.” (Isaiah 33:6)

Two days later, Mel and Brian received special visitors: the President and First Lady.

“Colonel Birdwell, it’s nice to meet you,” said Mrs. Bush. “We’re really proud of you. You’re an American hero.”

Mel interpreted for Brian, who either spelled words in the air with his fingers or mouthed things around the tubes in his mouth and nose. Mrs. Bush talked with the Birdwells for a few minutes before giving Mel a long hug and asking how she was doing.

The President walked into the room, looking haggard with bloodshot eyes. He stood at the foot of the hospital bed, said “Colonel Birdwell,” and saluted Brian.

Brian tried to return the salute, and in raising his arm, revealed bright red muscle under the sterile towels draped over him. With tears in his eyes, President Bush stood still, holding his salute while Brian desperately tried to complete his. He made it three-quarters of the way before dropping his arm in pain.

“Colonel Birdwell, you are a great American, a hero, and we are going to get the guys who did this,” the President said. “This will not go unanswered.” Then he turned to Mel, gave her a hug and kiss and asked how she was doing. He asked if he and Mrs. Bush could pray for her family.

“When President Bush held his salute for me, I don’t think he was doing that out of respect for a single person, that is me, but for all our men and women in uniform,” said Brian.

Noticing Mel’s Vacation Bible School T-shirt, which read, “Every day’s a holiday with Jesus in your heart,” President Bush asked, “Is every day a holiday with Jesus in your heart?”

“Yes. Some of them are not especially happy holidays, but every day is a holiday,” Mel replied.

Soon the Bushes were gone.

“I had looked into the President’s eyes and could see he understood the gravity of what lay before this country that by standing in Brian’s presence a potentially dying soldier he would soon be sending other soldiers to their deaths by the decisions he would make in the upcoming days,” said Mel.

Lord, give us the courage to see past our pain enough to still find delight in you.

“He will guard the feet of his saints, but the wicked will be silenced in darkness. It is not by strength that one prevails.” (1 Samuel 2:9)

For three months, the pain was so unbearable far worse even than the pain of being on fire that Brian repeatedly asked God to take him home. Instead, he survived, enduring more than thirty excruciating surgeries, daily debridements, and torturous physical therapy.

Debriding involved strapping Brian to a hard rubber board and submerging him in a tank filled with a warm water-chlorine derivative-iodine mixture. They then either cut away dead tissue or scrubbed it off. “It felt as if they were using steel wool washcloths on top of the stinging,” said Brian. “They were wiping a washrag over open wounds where, in some cases, it was directly on straight muscle. It was absolutely agonizing.” They even gave Brian amnesia medication, not to relieve the pain, but to help him not remember it. Sometimes the dosage wasn’t enough, and the memories were terrifying, not to mention the anticipation of the next “tank session.” The dressing changes and debriding in the tank took almost three hours daily.

Skin grafts were another source of pain. The doctors used his own skin from his stomach and upper thighs (donor sites) for his fingers, elbows, face and arms. The rest of his body which would be grafted later was covered with cadaver or pig skin temporarily to prevent infection. As the pig or cadaver skin began to rot, the staff debrided it, cleaned the area and put more on, much like replacing soiled bandaids again and again.

“The skin grafts were exceedingly torturous,” said Brian. “But the area that hurt the most after a grafting surgery was the donor site.” Once the doctors shaved off the skin, to protect that donor site they would cover it with a substance that was glued and stapled on. Staples were removed (again, painfully) on the third day.

“Actually, there wasn’t anything that didn’t cause tremendous amounts of pain,” said Brian. “If I don’t recall something, it was because I was so often out of my mind with the pain.”

Before every bath, dressing change and surgery, Mel prayed with Brian and read to him Joshua 1:9: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Lord, may I take courage in the confidence that you are with me no matter what.

“Be strong and very courageous.” (Joshua 1:7)

Many people ask, “Where was God on September 11?” The Birdwells can point to several examples of how God worked not only on that day but in the months leading up to it to keep the loss of life from being even greater than it was.

The wedge of the Pentagon that was hit had been newly renovated, with entire departments that had not moved back in yet, so it was the least-occupied area of the building.

One of the renovations was Kevlar coating on the windows, which likely saved lives by preventing glass from shattering and becoming projectiles.

Months prior to September 11, 2001, Pentagon officials conducted a mass casualty exercise to prepare a major emergency response. The scenario they created was a plane hitting the building. Because of that exercise, emergency medical supplies were provided to all medical personal in the Pentagon, saving Brian’s life.

If Brian had gone to the restroom twenty seconds earlier or later, he would have been in the plane’s path and died. If he had stayed at his desk, he would have died.

Brian survived the blast though he stood just two car-lengths from the point of impact, and suffered no puncture wounds or broken bones.

Those who rescued Brian had to swipe their badge at a powered door to reach him and it worked, though power had been shut down to that part of the building.

Weeks prior to September 11, Brian insisted on buying leather Army shoes a first for him. Those shoes protected his feet, allowing an IV and morphine shot to be administered there, which saved his life.

Brian was the only casualty taken to Georgetown Hospital because Sgt. Jill Hyson, who rode with him from the Pentagon, had worked there, and it was the only hospital she know how to get to. (Most other victims had been taken to Arlington Memorial Hospital.) Georgetown had cleared all non-life threatening patients from the hospital in order to respond to Pentagon casualties. Brian was the sole casualty there and received the entire staff’s attention.