It seemed like the entire team was at Walter Reed.
In the months following the mission, Behr saw Ford, Morales, and Walding. They were all on different floors.
A steady stream of people visited them. For Behr, his time at the hospital was filled with reflection—and great physical pain.
Just like Walding, he knew he had died on the operating table in Bagram. The infection was so bad, that doctors didn’t know whether they would be able to save him.
He underwent eight operations. For the first six months, he had to stay in bed because most of his hip was gone. Doctors had to wait for the wound to heal completely before performing hip replacement surgery. He began walking again only after massive rehabilitation. It was a struggle.
Whenever old friends visited, they would tell him they’d heard the battle over the network radio. That they were angry and had wanted to head to the Shok Valley to help. The U.S. military was like that. Everyone was truly a band of brothers. They might argue. They might bitch and moan. But when the shit hit the fan and one of their own was in trouble, they joined forces and discarded all the bullshit. That’s just the way it was.
Behr’s family visited. Even his wife, Amanda. They had separated long before he was deployed to Afghanistan, but she wanted to make sure he was okay. He knew their marriage was over. The two of them had too many issues. It was difficult being married to a Special Forces soldier. They work long hours when they are in the United States, and are always deployed, most of the time to secret locations in war zones. They carry a lot of stress because they deal with life-and-death issues.
Behr was wrestling with his future. What he was going to do once he was released. One day when a friend was visiting, he spotted a nurse, Mary Elizabeth Just, a volunteer with the American Red Cross, leaving the hospital. Pretty, she had visited Behr’s room several times to help. Behr’s friend glanced at Mary and asked her to have lunch with them. Behr was embarrassed. He liked the nurse and thought his friend was making a move.
In her midtwenties, she seemed smart and perky, with a bright, friendly smile. Every time she came into Behr’s room, it snapped him out of his funk. The three had lunch that day. By the end of the meal, just before she got up to leave, Behr said he wanted to see her again. She said yes.
Now, sitting in the hospital room, Behr didn’t know what his future would hold with the Army—he had been thinking about getting out—but he hoped it would involve Mary. He smiled for a moment. It was another ironic twist. He had found someone he liked under the worst possible circumstances. He knew he wouldn’t have met her if he hadn’t been wounded on the worst day of his life.