News from the front.

It was a red-letter day for one Fort Bragg soldier the day he got his prosthetic leg.

"I can't wait to get my hands on it," said Staff Sgt. Dan Metzdorf of the 2nd Battalion, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division.

The excitement and drive that Metzdorf exudes when talking about the next step in his recovery are what has kept him going since he lost his right leg in Iraq on January 27, 2004.

"I was totally conscious throughout the whole thing. We saw a huge bright light, and then a loud bang, and I was thrown in the air and hit the ground pretty hard," he continued. "I felt the bleeding, and I couldn't feel my foot or my knee. I heard another soldier crying out [Sgt. Richard Jepsen], and I began to cry out, too. We were all basically calling for the same thing--medics."

He and Jepsen both credit their survival to Staff Sgt. Troy Southard. "He got us picked up right away and orchestrated everything. He was very calm," recalled Metzdorf. "He got those of us who were still alive in the Humvee and then drove us, very quickly, to the fire base."

Once the soldiers arrived at the fire base, the medics swung into action. Even the cooks lent a hand.

"The medics and our physician assistant went to work like crazy," he said. "They got us stabilized and on a helicopter to Baghdad in a very short period."

Jepsen, who received massive shrapnel wounds to the face and legs, credits the training and skill of the medics with saving his life.

"Our medics are so good," he said. "They have excellent training and our PA has taught them a lot. They are the ones who are saving soldiers' lives."

Once the helicopter hit the ground in Baghdad, the nurses and doctors of the combat support hospital took control.

"The soldiers at the CSH sprinted us off the helicopter, and then the doctors were hitting us pretty hard," said Metzdorf.

It was at the CSH that Metzdorf's leg was amputated. Shortly after surgery, a nurse helped him make a phone call home to his wife, Teresa.

"I was drugged up, but I called her, and she didn't recognize my voice. I said, 'Hey babe, it's Dan. I just lost my leg,' and then the phone went dead. A few minutes later the nurse was able to call her back and explain what had happened."

As Metzdoff related this part of his story, he started cracking jokes.

"Teresa thought I was just joking, but the nurse told her, 'I looked under the sheet, and yeah, he's not kidding you. He's only got one leg.'"

While some would think he was making light of his situation, Metzdoff is quick to explain.

"It's just a leg. I'm no different. I'm the same person. Three of my fellow soldiers are dead. I'm still here. I'm lucky," he said.

On January 31, their third wedding anniversary, Teresa boarded a plane for Washington, D.C., and Waiter Reed Army Medical Center. In Germany, Metzdorf was being loaded on an airplane when he began to have breathing problems. Two blood dots, one from his right leg and one from his left, had moved and formed a pulmonary embolism in his lungs. Teresa had to wait until February 2 for him to arrive.

He recalled the plane ride and the bus ride to Walter Reed as a nightmare.

"My leg was so sore and swollen, I couldn't even touch it. Every bump was unbelievable pain," he said. "My leg was just some weird object attached to me. Every time we would hit a bump, I would cry out. The medic came up and asked me what was wrong. I pulled back the sheet, and said, 'I lost my leg, it hurts. Slow down!"

The next couple of weeks were a blur for him. His time in intermediate intensive care was marked with morphine and a lot of pain.

"I would cry like a baby when someone hit the bed," he said. "I do remember that I wanted to get better fast and that it really sucked being that hurt."

Jepsen has limited memories of the incident, his trip to Walter Reed and his first few weeks in the hospital. He caught shrapnel in his face and legs, as well as his body armor. Doctors have taken skin grafts from his upper thigh and, using titanium, have reconstructed his face.

"I used to be his squad leader," said Sgt. 1st Class Kirk Hines, who is coordinating the care of 82nd soldiers at Walter Reed. "When he came in, I didn't even recognize him. His face was so swollen you couldn't even see his eyes. Later, when the swelling went down, one eye was out of its socket."

A series of surgeries has repaired the damage, but there are extensive scars along his body.

"These doctors have so much confidence. They are just awesome. They give you the feeling that nothing can go wrong as long as they are here," said Metzdorf. "Every morning the whole team troops in and takes a look at my leg. In the beginning they could barely touch it, but they would say, 'Man, it's healing up.' I had over 200 stitches where they sewed me up. Every day they take a few more stitches out and every day I get a little bit better."

On February 10, Metzdorf stood up for the first time.

"There were eight doctors, and eight safety belts. I stood up for about 15 seconds and they made it a really huge thing," he said.

While the doctors have healed his body, his wife and fellow soldiers have done much to heal his soul.

"The doctors always give me good news, and I have so many people saying prayers and supporting me. Every morning my wife walks in with this big smile on her face, and I'm just blown away. I couldn't do this without her," he said. "Some mornings are hard for me because of the pain. But she gives me the courage to go a little further. She eggs on the docs in physical therapy so they'll smoke me. The guys from the unit call me, and I heard all the awesome stuff they are doing over there, and that keeps me going too."

Metzdorf, like many soldiers wounded in Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom, plans to remain in the Army.

"They aren't through with me yet," he said. "I want to stay around soldiers. I'm going to show them I can do a lot more than they think."

Part of that process includes receiving help from the Department of Veterans Affairs to adapt his home and automobile for use with his prosthetic leg. The VA will give soldiers wounded in the war a one-time $48,000 grant for home adaptation to the disability. In Metzdorf's case that means putting in a ramp and a nonslick bathtub, as well as replacing carpet that may interfere with the working of his high-tech prosthetic leg. The VA will also make a one-time grant of $11,000 to adapt a vehicle.

But before that happens, he is facing months of therapy at Walter Reed.

"It helps that there are a lot of soldiers here, because you can't be a punk about your wound," he said.

Physical therapy is described as "crazy" due to the encouragement and strength the soldiers give to one another.

"I'd like to think that my attitude has rubbed off a little," said Metzdorf. "Some guys are in pain and are in the 'poor me' stage. I'm like, 'Guy, you're still a soldier.' I don't want to know what unit they're from, but I know they aren't from the 82nd. Some guys here are so strong. I've only been through 10 or 12 surgeries and they've been through 38. When I talk to them, I think I'm such a wimp. I see other people's problems and it puts everything in perspective. I'm very lucky."

Jepsen, who was and is a close friend of Metzdorf's, shares that attitude. He reenlisted in March.

"A lot of people expect someone with these injuries to get out," added Metzdorf. "This says there isn't anything he can't do. He's got blown up, and beat up and he's ready to go back."

"I love what I do," said Jepsen. "I had a lot of options, but I didn't want to walk away now. It would be like saying, 'OK, I got my butt kicked, so I'll go away.' That wasn't about to happen."

Note from Sgt/Major Stephen Spadaro, ADAA Military Trustee:

At this time I would like to Acknowledge the many packages, Letters and phone cards from ADAA received by DENTAC in Iraq.

Janice Burton

Fort Bragg, N.C., Paraglide