[October 4, 2023] Laying in the dirt on my back, filthy, sweaty, head spinning, with terrible pain in my left shoulder, I thought, “How the heck did I get here?” It was sometime early in the morning, just at sunrise, but it was still cool, dusty, smelly, and with no breeze at all. A big black man with a huge smile and bright white teeth asked if I was in pain. “What?” I asked, still not with it. He said, with a booming voice of concern, “Sir, you got tripped up and hit the dirt real hard. You hurt anywhere?” Just then, the pain came stampeding back, and my shoulder was on fire and sagging in a bizarre way. “Good God, sir, I think you dislocated your shoulder; it looks real bad.” Now, who wants to hear that? It wasn’t the pain that bothered me so much as being unable to get up by myself and stand without two big dudes helping me. One of them volunteered to drive me to the nearby aid station to have a doctor take a look. My luck was to find the doctor still asleep, so they went to wake him. It seemed like forever for him to arrive and diagnose what seemed evident by that point: a classic dislocated shoulder. He said, “I’ll fix it, but it’s gonna hurt real bad.” Just what I wanted to hear, and I’d not even eaten breakfast.
I’d been playing Combat Football with about 35 or 40 Soldiers and Marines on an open, hard-packed dirt field near the heart of Baghdad, Iraq, in the last days of 2010, only a few months before the end of the war. A week earlier, one of our Marines got hurt badly with the same injury, plus a broken hand and a concussion. Unsurprisingly, our unofficial motto was, “Work hard, play hard.” Back at the aid station, the medics seemed intimidated by me. One said, “There are only two kinds of people we get in here this time of day: combat wounded and engineers.” I was obviously not combat-wounded. A short, young female medic asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee, and I nodded yes. She also sheepishly asked me to give her my pistol and holster (for security). Now, that felt weird. Being in an active war zone, I was never without my pistol or rifle, but I knew the rules and handed it over. “Sir, we never had a Colonel officer in our clinic before. Can we get you anything?” “You must be an engineer,” another medic said. Yep!
All I wanted was to get my shoulder fixed, breakfast, and return to work. The short female medic politely and, in a meek voice, informed me that my long-sleeve PT shirt would have to come off. “And how is that supposed to happen?” I said with as much stoicism as I could muster. She said, “Well, sir, we could pull it over your head like you normally do when removing it.” I’m no medic, nor do I know much about human anatomy, but given the pain up to that point, I figured her suggestion would be a stupid decision on my part. “Or, we can cut your shirt off.” Now, that’s more like it. I said, “Okay, cut it off; otherwise, you’ll hear a lot of screaming, and you don’t want that to happen.” After the doctor reset my shoulder and put my arm in a sling, he told me I would be sent to Landstuhl, Germany, by military aircraft, where U.S. military doctors would review my shoulder to determine whether I could remain in a war zone. “Nope, doc, I ain’t going nowhere; thanks for your help. I’m a staff officer, not a door kicker. I’m going back to work.” Then I got my pistol and walked out. And that was that, at least for the moment.
I was at the “Boathouse,” back at work by 9 o’clock, where Army Engineers had been since the beginning of the war in 2003. In comes my boss, a 2-star Army General. He saw my left arm in a bright blue sling. “Satterfield, I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without something crazy happening. What the F happened?” In the end, I was never sent back to Germany. I knew the Army 4-star Commander. They weren’t letting me go. And that’s just the way I liked it.
The real question is, “How the heck did I get here?” The answer to that question is a tad complicated.
—————
Please read my books:
Excellent series, as I have commented before. Please continue. Each one is so entertaining and sometimes funny. Although I’m not sure you thought those evernts were funny when you were a kid going thru it.
Continued, lovely, informative, entertaining letters from Gen. Satterfield to his Granddaughter. She doesn’t know it yet, but she is one lucky girl.
This is Gen. Satterfield in action!!!!!!!
Sir, you have yourself an outstanding introduction to this series “Letters to My Granddaughter.” I think it is spot on. Let us know if you are going to put this into book form. And, also, please keep integrating your family into these stories of your childhood.
Red, great to hear from you again. And thanks for the comment. I haven’t decided to make these “letters” into a book. I think I need more ideas first.
My friend great article for your granddaughter. “How did I get here” . This question is still going on today. Bad choices in life, ie. job,marries, relationship, family. The reply now is “How am I going to get out “.
David in the Bible had the same question when he took another man wife lad with her ,when she became pregnant David tried to hid his sin. He had the husband killed in battle. What done in the dark will come to light. When question by prophet Samuel of the David’s actions, the question brings to light David’s reply It was I .I’m sorry God, forgive me for my bad discussion. God forgive him,but the sin act lead to the son being still born. How did I get here.
Mr. Eddie, you are right and the Bible explains much. And one of the main points of the value of the Bible is that it explains why we are here. We are made in the image of God. So be careful what you do, because you are blessed. Don’t throw that away on a whim.
Gen. Satterfield, please please keep this series going. I find your stories funny, sad, happy, tragic, and also inspiring.
A quick side note for those reading these letters. Today’s letter is designed to be the first letter of all letters. And, by that same logic, not all letters are in a particular order. Dates are scrambled a bit, and that is my intent.
Gen. Satterfield, I kind of figured that latter part out already. Thanks for the clarification. 😎
Good points.
Sir, I wish you all the best for you and your family, and your granddaughter who is the intended target for your letters. I know you well enough to know that these letters are actually for all your grandkids, and yes your great grandkids too. Like you said in your first book “Our Longest Year in Iraq” (2021), you wrote the book so that your grandchildren would know what you and your unit did during the beginning of the war, because historians cannot be trusted to get it right. Too many political historians today and they are completely untrustworthy as is our universities. What you wrote is the real deal. Keep up writing these letters. BTW, what is your granddaughter’s name, if that is possible to give out?
Well said, The Kid. Just what I was thinking too. I’m not sure how long this series is going to last but I can see 👀 that it still has legs to run.
The Kid, good memory. This book is also my favorite. I’ve read it four times and each read I get more and more from the book. There are not just a story per page but stories buried into each page that is not always so obvious. Read Gen. Satterfield’s books and his articles, but these letters to his granddaughter too.
Wow, another “Letters to my granddaughter.” Gen. S., I am enjoying this series more and more with each letter. I think your letter writing is getting better. What I like best is that each letter has more than one story.
Nailed it, samuel.
Sir, love the intro …………..
“Laying in the dirt on my back, filthy, sweaty, head spinning, with terrible pain in my left shoulder, I thought, “How the heck did I get here?” It was sometime early in the morning, just at sunrise, but it was still cool, dusty, smelly, and with no breeze at all. A big black man with a huge smile and bright white teeth asked if I was in pain. “What?” I asked, still not with it. He said, with a booming voice of concern, “Sir, you got tripped up and hit the dirt real hard. You hurt anywhere?” Just then, the pain came stampeding back, and my shoulder was on fire and sagging in a bizarre way. “Good God, sir, I think you dislocated your shoulder; it looks real bad.””
CHEERS
💖💖💖
#####
Great stories deserve a great read.
Yep, and that is why I’m a long-time fan of reading Gen. Satterfield’s blog. He is great. And now I’m finding out what made him that way.
Me too.
We are all very happy that Gen. Satterfield is writing these letters. I am getting a good picture of an upbringing that was pretty typical 50+ years ago. My father was brought up in that generation. The competition for any job was fierce and you had to be fully prepared. If you weren’t tough and mentally driven, then you were a failure. If you dropped behind, no one was there to pick you up. You just fell behind. I’m honored to now read what made a General who he is. From one mother to another (mothers here reading this), pay close attention. You will learn a lot about boys.
Gen. Satterfield, I know others are saying the same thing but I just wanted to add my two cents worth that this is the best series you’ve written so far. Please put them into a book. You’ll sell as a best seller.
Gen. Satterfield, just loving your letters. I’ve now decided to do the same for my kids and putting these letters (handwritten) into a box in my closet. When they are adults, they get to read them.
Why wait, Forrest, read it to them today, one at a time, and slowly. Let them ask questions and do your best to answer. That is the point that Gen. Satterfield is getting at. He wants his granddaughter (grandkids all) to know more about him and what made him who he is and why he did certain things a certain way. Let them read your letters now. ❤ They will love your for it.
Plus your kids will know where they are and what they contain so they can go back and re-read them again at a later date. Keep these letters “to my granddaughter coming,” Gen. S. And BTW, great books you’ve written. My favorite is “55 rules for a good life” that is how you have a good life for yourself and teaching it to others is good. I hope you have an updated version to take into account the woke ideology that exploded since you published this one in 2022.
👍👍👍👍👍
Stacey and Hal, thanks ….excellent input for Gen. Satterfield.
I’m going to let them read mine.
Same here but they need to be mature enough for the letters to sink into their minds. Well, maybe not.
Well said, HAL.