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He was conscious, but he couldn’t feel anything. There was a lot of noise and
some flashes of light. He tried to look around, to see what was going on; but he
couldn’t move. The last thing he remembered, his platoon had come upon a
Republican Guard company probing on the outskirts of Baghdad. They’d spotted
him but not his men; so he charged into the midst of them, firing as he ran, to
distract them so his men could flank them. He didn’t know if it worked or not,
because he had been hit before it played out.
“Don’t move, Lieutenant Waverly. They’re going to get you out of here
in a minute. You’ll be okay. Just take it easy.” Who was that? Claussen?
Claussen’s just a private. Claussen was trying to reassure him the same way
he’d tried so many times with other wounded soldiers. Sometimes they made it,
sometimes they didn’t. He couldn’t feel anything in the lower part of his
body, but he didn’t know what that meant.
Back at the field hospital, the lead surgeon, Major Carmichael told him his
wounds weren’t as bad as they’d at first suspected. “Well, Lieutenant
Waverly, looks like you were luckier than we thought. You got hit several times
with small arms rounds in your lower back and upper legs. There were a couple of
bone chips and some muscle damage, but most of that will heal. The hardest part
will be rehabilitating the muscles and getting them to function the way they
used to. We’re going to send you to a regional hospital where they have the
staff to handle stuff like that. You should be back to your old self in no
time.”
The regional hospital was crowded. Most of the casualties from Iraq were
there, along with sick and injured military people from all over the area. The
ward he was assigned to had mostly junior officers and some senior enlisted
personnel. He learned quickly that his fame had preceded him. As they wheeled
him to his bed, the crusty old Sergeant Major next to him asked, “Hey,
Lieutenant, is it true that you got the Purple Heart for getting shot in the
butt?”
He grinned back into that combat hardened face and said, “Yep, shedding
blood in defense of freedom. Congress didn’t say where the blood had to come
from.”
The next morning he met his physical therapist, a bright-eyed, breathless,
valley girl type lieutenant named Carmody. She came bubbling in for their first
session, all sunshine and light and full of herself. She was probably his age,
they didn’t make officers much younger, but she sure didn’t act it. He hated
her immediately. About halfway through her monolog about the rehabilitation
program and how they were going to proceed and how they were going to rate his
progress, he interrupted, “Look, Lady, I really don’t want to play these
games with you. I don’t need your help. Why don’t you just go on to your other duties, and let me take care of myself?”
Her expression told him that his words were like a bucket of cold water in
her face. “Do I have to remind you that I am an officer in the United States
Army?” she asked.
“So am I, Toots,” said Waverly, “but that didn’t stop those ragheads
in Iraq from shooting me up. So don’t think being an officer in the United
States Army is going to cut any ice for you either.”
“Well, it’s going to get you to do your physical therapy, and that’s all
I want.”
“Well, you want too much, Toots. Take your little gold bars and go away.”
“Sorry, Lieutenant, but you’ve got to do your exercise. It’s for your
own good, and the regs require it.”
“Lady, I’m not really noted for doing what’s good for me and certainly
not for following regs. Mostly, I‘ve become a little bored with this whole
exchange, so could you just go annoy someone else?”
“If you don’t do what you’re supposed to do, I’ll have to report it
to the colonel.”
“Look, Toots, you do whatever you have to do. And when you’re talking to
the colonel, tell him the food in here could stand a little improvement.”
Carmody stomped out of the ward. Waverly knew no junior lieutenant had direct
access to the hospital commander, and he doubted that her superior would bother
the colonel with such a petty problem.
“Hey, Lieutenant, why you want to bug Carmody like that?” asked Sergeant
Major Matheny. “She’s kinda cute. I’d let her do her exercises on me any
day.”
“Sergeant Major, do I have to remind you that she’s an officer in the
United States Army?” asked Waverly in the mocking tone that told the Sergeant
Major that he was making fun of Carmody. “Seriously, Sergeant Major, you’ve
got a different perspective from me. Your position lets you accept these people
without taking them too seriously. Nobody’s going to mess much with a sergeant
major. But I can’t afford to let them get away with anything. It’s all a big
power play. These kinds of people always want to control you.”
“Hey, I’ll let her control me, too,” smirked the crusty veteran of 28
years in the Army. “Just don’t tell my wife.”
Much to his surprise, the next morning Waverly was called to the colonel’s
office. “What’s going on, Lieutenant?” asked Colonel Warwick. “Why
aren’t you doing your rehabilitative exercises? I thought as a young officer
you’d want to obey orders and follow the regs.”
“Well, Colonel, if I’d obeyed orders and followed the regs last month,
half my men would probably have been killed in Iraq. As it was, I was the only one
hit, and we routed a Republican Guard company. But more pertinent to today, I
just can’t stand that pushy little female lieutenant physical therapist. Sir,
the way she directs you to do this stuff just guarantees you’ll resist.”
“You mean Lieutenant Carmody?” asked the colonel.
“Yes, Sir. She has a lot to learn about how to win friends and influence
people.”
“Yeah, I know she’s a little pushy and a little overanxious; but her
heart’s in the right place and she tries hard. Besides, she’s my only
daughter.”
“Your daughter? I didn’t know that, Sir. Her name’s Carmody, and yours
is Warwick.”
“Yeah, she uses her mother’s maiden name, so she won’t get favored
treatment from being my daughter.” The colonel shrugged, “Like I said, she
tries hard. Do you think you could cut her a little slack, maybe give her
another chance?”
“Yes, Sir,” said Waverly, “I’d be glad to help her out.”
“Good, Lieutenant, I appreciate that. You’re dismissed.”
“So you told your daddy on me, huh, Toots?” asked Waverly of Carmody that
same afternoon.
“I told you I’d have to report you to the colonel,” she said wryly.
“But you didn’t tell me the colonel was your daddy.”
“I didn’t think that was relevant. The only important thing was your
treatment and your rehabilitation.”
“Yeah, and your ego and your authority. Look, let’s just get on with it.
I told your daddy I’d do it. So let’s do it.”
“Okay, lie down on your stomach. We’re going to do a few flexibility
exercises.” Her tone was scary. For the next half hour, she put his body into
configurations he didn’t think it could achieve. She twisted it in directions
it wasn’t designed to twist. She bent joints at angles they weren’t supposed
to bend. She made his extremities reach extremes they had never reached before.
It hurt. And every time he grimaced, she grinned. Every time he grunted, she
giggled. Every time he gasped, she snickered. When he groaned out loud, she
laughed out loud. At the end of the session, Carmody said, “You did very well,
Lieutenant. Tomorrow we’ll increase the procedure.”
“Increase it?” he asked, “What the hell is this, some new kind of
combat?”
“Well, if it is,” replied Lieutenant Carmody, “you appear to be
losing.” She looked down at him on the treatment table with a cool
dispassionate expression.
“You bring it on, Toots,” said Waverly. “We’ll see who loses.”
By the end of the next session the next day, he, the battle hardened veteran,
wasn’t nearly as confident of his ability to win this battle. “Hey, Carmody,
why don’t you just discharge me?” he asked.
“If I discharge you, it will be direct to the prison at Leavenworth,” she
said.
“Yeah, on what charge—failing to follow the order of a junior officer? I
don’t know if you could find a court martial to hear that one with a straight
face.”
“What if I ask my daddy to give the order? They might pay more attention to
a charge of failing to follow the order of a senior officer.”
“Okay, okay, you and your daddy win again. What’s next?”
“More of the same,” she said with a little smirk on her face.
“Just don’t break anything,” he said.
Sergeant Major Matheny had seen some of the byplay for the past couple of
days. After Lieutenant Carmody left, he said, “Hey, Lieutenant, I take it
back. I don’t think I want Lieutenant Carmody working on my body after all. I
think I’m too old and brittle. Something would break off for sure.” He
tilted his head, “But you’re a lot closer to her age. I still think you
could turn this into a more pleasant experience, even with the therapeutic
value.”
“First,” said Waverly, “I’ve got to get past the knowledge that
she’s the colonel’s daughter. I didn‘t even think they could do that,
assign a daughter to a father‘s command.”
“Yeah, well you do know that the needs of the service come first at all
times. So they can always find a way around their own regs. You’re going to
have to wipe that out of your mind. You’re going to have to forget that
she’s the colonel’s daughter and just treat her like a woman. If you handle
that right, Lieutenant, she won’t tell her daddy on you. So far you haven’t
been making the effort.”
“Okay, Sergeant Major, no young guy wants to admit that an old guy may know
more about women; but I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. I’m
going to try it your way and see how that goes.”
But that turned out to be hard to do. The next day’s session still hurt,
but Waverly tried to suppress the grunts, groans, and expletives. Carmody
ambushed his effort by saying, “You’re not as much fun when you’re this
quiet.”
Waverly couldn‘t take the flippant nature of the remark. “When a woman
makes me groan, I want it to be because I’m feeling good. I just don‘t think
you’re able to do that,” he replied. That killed the conversation for the
day, but Carmody’s maneuvers became a little more energetic and a couple of
gasps escaped Waverly involuntarily. “I don’t know if you’re trying to be
funny or if this is just your true sadistic nature, but my treatment appears to
be no longer about me. It’s more about you and your ego. I told your daddy
I’d do the drill. Let’s leave it at that and get it over with.”
After that a cold silence characterized their two-a-day sessions. Carmody
went through her menu of manipulations, and Waverly suffered them stoically. The
only words spoken were, “Lie down,” “Roll over,” and “Sit up.” It
sounded more like a dog training session than physical therapy.
“How’s it going with heavy hands, Lieutenant?” asked Sergeant Major
Matheny a couple of days later. “I don’t hear much complaining coming out of
you lately.”
“Well, it’s not going any better, Sergeant Major,” said Waverly.
“I’m just not complaining because I’m afraid of her daddy.”
“That doesn’t sound much like you, Sir. I thought her daddy being the
hospital commander sort of added to the challenge for you.”
“Yeah, it did, Sergeant Major. But she screwed up my thinking by doing a
good job. My body feels better right now than it has since that night in
Baghdad. I don’t want to admit that to her and, frankly, sometimes it feels a
little too good.”
“She hasn’t got you to the point where you can’t roll over on your
back, has she?” asked Matheny.
Waverly just looked at him without speaking, and the Sergeant Major chuckled
quietly.
The battles continued for the next couple of weeks with neither lieutenant
giving any consideration to the other. Carmody was determined to do her job but
took a perverse pleasure in any discomfort it caused Waverly. Waverly submitted
to the treatment but refused to acknowledge out loud that he needed it or that
it was in any way beneficial to him.
It was about that time that Waverly learned that Private Claussen had been
admitted to the hospital. He was in a ward down the corridor that had mostly
junior enlisted people. Waverly went down to see him that same day. The young
man’s eyes lit up when he saw his old platoon leader, “Lieutenant, man,
it’s good to see you. How are you? How’re your wounds?”
“I’m okay, Claussen. I’m about over my stuff. How about you? What
happened to you?”
“Same old, same old. Lieutenant Jefferson took over the platoon after you
left. We were out on patrol and got ambushed. I got hit a couple times in the back
and legs. I think my wounds are a lot like yours were. I’m doing okay, but
they sent me here for some physical therapy. I don’t feel much up to it, but I
guess they know best. I’m supposed to see a Lieutenant Carmody. You know
him?”
“It’s a her, and yes, I know her,” said Waverly trying not to give any
kind of negative impression to Claussen. “She’s been treating me. I’ll
talk to her about you.”
“That’d be great, Lieutenant,” said Claussen with a little relief in
his voice. “If she’s treating you, she must be pretty good.”
The next morning, near the end of their session, Waverly asked Carmody,
“You got a patient named Claussen?”
She looked at him a little warily, wondering what his interest was, “Yeah,
a Private Claussen. I see him the first time this afternoon. Why do you ask?”
“He’s out of my old platoon in Iraq. He’s a good soldier. He’s a good
kid. I just want him treated right.”
“As if to imply I might not treat him right? Listen, Lieutenant, it
doesn’t much matter to me what you want. Claussen is my patient and I’ll
treat him as I see fit without any advice from you.”
“Well, Lieutenant, if this soldier isn’t treated right, I will guarantee
that you and this hospital will regret it. And you can tell your daddy I said
so.” Carmody abruptly terminated the session and stalked off the ward.
Waverly wondered idly if she’d really tell her daddy on him again. That
didn’t bother him too much; but he was also concerned that his speaking up for
Claussen might have the opposite effect, might cause Carmody to take out her
anger on Claussen. He couldn’t get that fear out of his mind, so that
afternoon he walked down the corridor to Claussen’s ward. He lingered outside
the ward door trying to see what was going on in the corner treatment area. He
could make out Carmody working over a soldier lying on his stomach. It was
Claussen. Carmody’s back was toward the door, so Waverly was able to ease
inside and get a little closer to her. He actually got close enough to hear the
exchange between the therapist and her patient.
He heard a little grunt come from Claussen. “Is that uncomfortable?”
asked Carmody.
“Yes, Maam, just a little,” said Claussen.
“Okay, I’m going to ease up a little,” said Carmody. “We want to
exercise the area as much as we can, but we don’t want it to be painful for
you. You tell me as soon as it becomes uncomfortable.”
Waverly was stuck by the genuine concern in Carmody’s voice. He watched her
working carefully on Claussen’s legs, exerting force gingerly to exercise the
muscles damaged by his wounds. She kept asking, “How does that feel?” and
“Are you okay?”
Her voice was soft and gentle and soothing, and seemed to have a therapeutic
effect on her patient. At the end of the session, Carmody spoke quietly to Claussen for
a few minutes, telling him how she felt the treatment had gone and how they
would proceed in future sessions. Claussen thanked her and told her he thought
she did a great job. Carmody smiled at him and left the ward.
Waverly lingered after she left and made his way over to Claussen. “How you
doing, Private?” he asked.
“Hey, Lieutenant, I’m doing good” said Claussen. “I feel fine right
now. You know, your Lieutenant Carmody just left a minute ago. I feel a lot
better than I did before she worked on me. She seems to be a great therapist and
a nice lady, too. Maybe it helped that you put in a good word for me.”
Waverly shook his head, “I sort of doubt that. I think she did a good job
because she’s that kind of person. You’re right, she is a great
therapist.”
The next morning when Carmody came for Waverly’s session, he greeted her
with a cheery, “Good morning, Lieutenant.”
She returned the greeting but not quite as cheerily and went to work. Waverly
went through the session without complaint. Carmody did her job professionally
and without comment. As she was finishing up, Waverly said, “I visited Private
Claussen yesterday after you worked with him.”
She looked at him suspiciously, “So?”
“So, he says you did a great job. He also says you’re a great person.
He’s looking forward to your next session.”
“Private Claussen is a good patient. He’ll get a lot of help from the
therapy.”
“Yeah,” said Waverly, a little sheepishly, “it may surprise you but
that’s what I want, too. And I want to apologize for the way I’ve acted up
to now. I was way off base.” He paused and smiled, “And you can tell your
daddy I said so, too.”
She smiled back. “I may have to tell him,” she said. “He doesn’t
think I can do this job”
“One more thing, Carmody,” said Waverly, “When you get me back in shape
and they let me out of here, can I take you to dinner to celebrate and to thank
you.”
“I think we’d better celebrate one victory at a time,” she said.
“I’ve had mine for today. We’ll take the others as they come.”
But six weeks later, they did go to dinner together. And six months after
that they were married.
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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