A warrior's recovery: he nearly lost his life to the war on terrorism, but not the will to fight.

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The Airman took a moment to compose himself. Tears rolled down cheeks that bore the disfiguring scars of a battle fought far from home.

Nobody could begrudge him a moment or two to mourn. After all, he'd given up a lot to this war on terrorism. The improvised explosive device that blew up just a couple of feet from his face unmercifully claimed his left arm and left eye. It cost him his eyesight in his right eye as well, rendering him completely and permanently blind.

He didn't get choked up just because of a lost limb or because he'd spend the rest of his life in total darkness. He also wept because he would never again be a part of the "bomb squad."

Staff Sgt. Matt Slaydon, an explosive ordnance disposal technician from Luke Air Force Base, Ariz., received his injuries from a terrorist's IED Oct. 24, 2007, while deployed to northern Iraq. He doesn't feel sorry for himself when it comes to the multiple mutilations he endured. Instead, he says he feels somewhat fortunate, because the bomb, which partially misfired, should have turned him "into a pink mist."

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He does admit; however, that his stomach still sometimes gets tied up in knots when he has to face never again being an active member of the EOD team.

"I loved being part of the bomb squad ... loved it, loved it, loved it! He swallowed hard, and his shoulders slumped. "I'd never had such a sense of purpose ... I was saving lives."

Sergeant Slaydon was no stranger to the IED. On his third deployment there, he had already helped dispose of about 65 of these deadly bombs. He'd been on 147 off-base combat missions, including two firefights that ended with four dead terrorists.

He volunteered for this third deployment, just like the two before that, and had already informed his wife that he'd be signing up for a fourth.

"When it came to deploying for EOD, he was like that little kid in class who always raised his hand when the teacher needed a helper," said Annette, his wife of eight years. "Was I scared for him? Sure. But who would I be, especially as his wife, to say, 'No, you can't have your dream.' I wouldn't do that in a million years."

OUTSIDE THE WIRE

The sergeant arrived in Iraq June 3, 2007, and was four and a half months into his third tour of duty there when he went on the mission that changed his life forever.

As part of EOD's duties to clear paths for military convoys, they "were called on to check out a suspicious sign at a particularly bad intersection of road," he said.

Sergeant Slaydon led a team of three EOD technicians and a weapons intelligence specialist. After taking a careful look at the sign, it appeared to be harmless. Not one to leave things to chance, Sergeant Slaydon deployed the EOD robot to pull the sign out of the ground. Nothing happened. He decided to get out of the truck and recover the sign.

He exited the vehicle, and the weapons intelligence specialist followed. But something caught Sergeant Slaydon's attention, and he quickly ordered the intel troop to take cover.

Whatever he saw prompted him to take out his titanium mine probe.

"I don't know what caught my eye, but I knelt down and slid the probe into the suspicious area," Sergeant Slaydon said. The ground in front of him exploded.

AFTER THE EXPLOSION

Shrapnel, dirt and sand blew with such force that the blast seemed intent on ripping Sergeant Slaydon's face off.

Inside the truck, EOD technicians Senior Airmen Patrick Loveless and Edison Corbo, both deployed from Travis AFB, Calif., heard and felt the blast as it shook the vehicle.

"You see the cloud of dust, and for a split second, you're thinking, 'What happened? Who's hurt? What do we do now?'" said Airman Corbo, who was on his first deployment.

While Airman Loveless radioed the patrol to send a medic, Airman Corbo jumped out of the truck to help his team leader.

"I saw Sergeant Slaydon lying on the ground," Airman Corbo said. "His face was torn up, and his head was red with blood."

Sergeant Slaydon's left arm seemingly hung on by a thread, as two tendons were the only things keeping it from being completely severed. Multiple puncture wounds left gaping holes that allowed those working on him to see into his fractured sinus cavity. His nose had been peeled open, and a chunk of his ear was missing. The orbital bones around his eyes were shattered. His left eye had been practically torn out, while the right took shrapnel deep into the socket. The blast broke his jaw in two places and busted his front teeth. The explosion caused the lining of his chest cavity to hemorrhage, and blood started to pool internally.

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A medic, who had been with a nearby Army patrol, put a tourniquet on Sergeant Slaydon's mangled arm and did his best to bandage the numerous facial lacerations. Airman Corbo, meanwhile, tried to keep his team leader from going into shock by talking to him.

"He was awake, and he was in a lot of agony," Airman Corbo said.

While his teammates, the medic and an Army doctor, who had rushed to the scene, desperately tried to keep the sergeant alive, a medical evacuation chopper arrived.

THE JOURNEY HOME TO HIS WIFE

In the helicopter that was headed to Kirkuk Air Base, Iraq, Sergeant Slaydon's heart stopped. The medevac team had to do chest compressions in flight to get his heart beating again.

When he arrived at Kirkuk, doctors stabilized him.

Then they flew him to Joint Base Balad, Iraq, where he underwent 12 hours of surgery. Doctors amputated his left arm, removed what remained of his left eye and wired his broken jaw shut. They performed a tracheotomy and inserted a breathing tube in his neck. From Balad, he flew to Landstuhl, Germany, then to Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C.

While doctors worked to save Sergeant Slaydon's life, Luke AFB officials notified Annette that her husband had been injured. She found out Oct. 25, a day after the IED exploded.

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A paralegal, she was at her office in Phoenix when a five-member military entourage arrived.

"The group commander held my hand and told me that Matt had lost an arm and an eye, and that they were trying to save the right eye," Annette said with a shaky voice as tears streamed down her face.

A few days later, when she finally reunited with her husband for the first time in nearly five months, nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

"It was shocking," she said. "He looked nothing like himself."

A week after the IED explosion, the couple flew via a C-17 Globemaster III to Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio to continue his recovery.

THE 'AWAKENING'

Sergeant Slaydon slipped in and out of consciousness for days. He has no memory of the three weeks after the bomb nearly erased him. His first post-bomb memory is of his wife telling him his arm was amputated.

"Of course, he doesn't remember the times I told him I loved him," Annette chuckled.

In the days following his combat injuries, a plastic prosthetic replaced Sergeant Slaydon's left eye. When efforts to restore the sight in his right eye failed, doctors offered to remove it.

"I couldn't bring myself to part with it," he said. "It just seemed creepy to me to have no eyes ... like some kind of monster movie."

He chose to keep it, even though that decision meant more surgery and pain.

While still going through recovery with more surgeries and an exhausting schedule of recurring medical appointments, the sergeant was able to piece together what went wrong in Iraq.

"I found out that the sign was actually hooked up to a pull switch," he said. "It should have gone off when the sign was pulled from the ground by the robot. When that failed, it literally could have been a grain of sand that was holding the switch, open. So when I put in my probe, I disturbed the switch, and it snapped shut. Then ... BOOM!"

Most days, he is able to shrug off the severity of his wounds and even put a positive spin on his new reality--but accepting that he has lost his dream job? That's another story.

He paused, the lump in his throat momentarily robbing him of speech. He shifted uncomfortably, and then apologized for getting emotional.

"That's one of the hardest pills to swallow," the 37-year-old said. "I can't be an EOD technician anymore ... Ever. I went from being in sixth gear, going on combat raids, to being slammed in reverse with my injuries."

Though he will now face a medical retirement instead of retiring, it doesn't mean he's given up. He still wants to be involved with the military, albeit in a different fashion.

"I'm going back to school to get a doctorate in clinical psychology," said Sergeant Slaydon, who was awarded the Purple Heart in January, as well as the Air Force Combat Action Medal and two Army Commendation medals, one with valor.

"I want to work with Veterans Affairs to help troops suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. They'll take one look at me, and I'll have instant credibility," he said.

Then, they can sit back, relax and tell each other their stories ... from war hero to war hero.

PHOTOS BY TECH. SGT. MATTHEW HANNEN

DESIGN BY LUKE BORLAND

RELATED ARTICLE: Support programs step up to help wounded warriors, their families.

Airmen injured on the battlefield can rest a little easier thanks to improvements with warrior care.

Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Navy Adm. Mike Mullen stood up the Joint Staff Wounded Warrior Integration Team to look at the broad range of care and services for wounded warriors to find gaps and tap into the best practices of the forces.

Oversight for the Air Force program is led by Arthur Myers, Director of Air Force Services, who serves as the single focal point for the Survivor Assistance Program. His efforts have ensured each of our warriors and their family's needs are being met by assigning a trained individual to assist them and to serve as a link to various agencies and institutions.

Mr. Myers' main tool in this program is the family liaison officer, who is the "gatekeeper" and involved with everything from cutting grass, to fixing cars, to taking children to daycare or even ensuring families of wounded warriors have enough money to make ends meet.

"They literally will take off of their normal duty to be there for our warriors from the beginning until they are no longer needed," said Mr. Myers.

For people like Staff Sgt. Matthew Slaydon, an explosive ordnance disposal technician from the 56th Civil Engineer Squadron at Luke Air Force Base, Ariz., the increased emphasis on needed wounded-warrior care couldn't have come at a better time.

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While protecting convoy routes in Iraq, an improvised explosive device exploded about two feet from his face.

Soon after the attack, his wife, Annette, traveled to Walter Reed Medical Center in Washington, D.C. Staff Sgt. Ryan Winger, a family liaison officer from Sergeant Slaydon's EOD shop at Luke AFB, accompanied her to see her husband for the first time in five months.

"It was very rough emotionally," Annette said. "There was no way I could've handled all of the details without Sergeant Winger's help."

While Sergeant Slaydon was in and out of consciousness for the first three weeks after the attack, a combination of people and resources were at Annette's service.

A team of Air Force members has "made it possible for me to spend most of my time with my husband, instead of dealing with distractions," Annette said.

When the couple headed to the Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, they met Chief Master Sgt. Stephen Page, command chief master sergeant of the 12th Flying Training Wing, Randolph AFB, Texas.

"Before the engines on that plane even shut off completely, Chief Page was onboard," Annette said. "He said, 'You're in Air Force country now--I've got you.'

"When I met Chief Page, it was the first time I really thought everything would be okay," she said.

One of the many people who stepped up to help the Slaydons was Steve Mayfield, with the Randolph AFB Airman and Family Readiness Flight. He arranged for the Air Force Aid Society to fund the Slaydons' house payments for a couple of months.

"It was hard to ask for help," Annette said. "We're very self-sufficient and good with our money. It can be hard to get over your pride to 'stoop' and ask for financial assistance, but Mr. Mayfield explained the aid was a benefit my husband earned through his service--even before he was wounded. That made me feel better about it."

Over the last year or so, Veterans Affairs and the Department of Defense have made significant progress to ensure veterans from all branches get a square deal, said Secretary of Defense Robert Gates.

"We are on track to complete more than 400 recommendations resulting from the new National Defense Authorization Act and five major studies and commissions," he said during a recent interview.

"Airmen will be followed in the Air Force program for a minimum of 5 years after the members separate or retire," said Mr. Myers. "The Air Force will provide any help needed."

For wounded warriors who stay with the Air Force, they will receive support with promotion opportunites, Enlisted Performance Reports, awards, scholarships and educational benefits.

Airman and Family Readiness Centers around the world will ensure details such as continued health care, transition counseling, job opportunities, financial counseling. Air Force Aid assistance, VA benefits, Social Security and retirement counseling are provided. These programs ensure "that not one need of theirs is forgotten," said Mr. Myers.

November is Warrior Care Month. To find out about Air Force warrior care, visit www.woundedwarrior.af.mil/

--Tech. Sgt. Mike Hammond