The chopper landed and I got on with him trying so hard to stabilize him. We took off for the field hospital that was only fifteen minutes away by air. He started seizing and it was all I could do to choke back the tears as I initiated an airway. He slipped into ventricular tachycardia, I administered lidocaine and we began CPR. We arrived at the hospital seven minutes later; unfortunately, he had been dead for about four or five. They took him away as I gave my report to the charge nurse. She left me and there I fell to my knees and cried for what seemed liked days. The ER doctor saw me and knelt down beside me placing his hand on my shoulder. “Did you do everything you possibly could for him?” he asked. I gave my sobbing answer: “Yes.” He whispered into my ear, “Then that’s all that can be asked of you.”

I told him, “He begged me not to let him die, but he did.” “This is too big for me. It’s not fair to put this much responsibility on a nineteen year old kid. I just want to go home.” I said choking back the tears. “We both know you can’t go home and there are others relying on you,” he explained. “Do you want them to see you all a mess?” I realized that I had to be stronger if I was to keep the trust of my fellow Marines. I wasn’t sure how they would react when they saw me again, especially after they found out that one of their brothers had died under my care. How could they ever believe in me? Why would they trust their lives in my hands? I was sure it would never be the same and I was right.

I walked back through the hushed whispers of Marines around me. As I walked up to my platoon, I was fighting everything inside to hold back my tears. The sergeant could see my heartbreak and grabbed me tighter than I had ever been held. One by one everyone converged upon me to give his love and support. It was at that moment that I knew I was a part of something bigger than myself. I was a part of something special, a brotherhood that would stay with me forever.