The vomit hit the senior officer square across his front. Good job, a nurse joked.
The ride was an ordeala nine-hour subway ride between stops, as Chua-Eoan put it. But the Starlifter performed its job. At 9:15 p.m. it landed safely at Andrews Air Force Base, ten miles southeast of Washington. We had completed the journey of every soldier wounded in Iraq, from the battlefield to a CSH, to Landstuhl, and finally to U.S. soil.
A bus was waiting to drive us to a new destination, where we would face our toughest test.
Excerpted from Blood Brothers by Michael Weisskopf. Copyright © 2006 by Michael Weisskopf. Excerpted by permission of Henry Holts and Company. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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