Research - Rehabilitation - Re-Employment

Sgt. Shaft 07/24/2000

Dear Sgt. Shaft:
The Walter Reed Army Institute of Research (WRAIR) has been the flagship medical research facility of the Army Medical Command for more than 100 years. The WRAIR's motto, "Research for the Soldier," is put into practice every day. This great institution has contributed many developments that have benefited the front line soldier. Last year the WRAIR was rewarded when it was moved from its crumbling 97-year-old building into a new state-of-the-art facility in Silver Spring, MD. But just as the WRAIR is now poised to lead the medical command into the 21st century, a dark cloud looms on its horizon. This cloud is in the form of a decision by the Medical Research and Materiel Command to move all combat casualty research to San Antonio, TX. This decision goes much further than disrupting the lives of up to 130 research scientists, doctors, and laboratory personnel; it could mean the death of many promising research initiatives designed to give the wounded soldier the best chance of making it back alive. Even though the move may be a year away, virtually none of the affected civilians are willing to move to Texas. This extends further to officers who are giving up their commissions or retiring early to avoid the move. The government rarely learns the lesson that there can be no program without personnel. In this case, programs that bring new blood clotting agents, computer-controlled resuscitation, drugs that protect the brain and spinal cord, wound detection and sophisticated monitoring right to the point of injury are in jeopardy. As a disabled veteran yourself, I know you have a special place in your heart for the combat medic. The combat casualty research done at the WRAIR is poised to empower the medic with an arsenal of 21st century medical technology. When parents send their children into service for our country, they trust that the military will do all in its power to return to them a healthy soldier. The men and women at the WRAIR are committed to that. It would be a shame to see these endeavors, like old soldiers, fade away.

S.V.
Silver Spring, MD

Dear S.V.:
I have shared the attempted demise of the Walter Reed Army Institute of Research programs with U.S. Congresswoman Connie Morella (R-MD). I am sure by now the top apparachiks at the Medical Research and Materiel Command have heard her Shakespearean voice of concern. As the old adage goes, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

Shaft Kudos
Recently, good friend Lieutenant General Blanck retired as the Army Surgeon General. Many of his close friends celebrated his retirement with both happiness and sadness: happiness for lack and his wife, Donna, with best wishes for their future civilian endeavors; but also with sadness for the military on losing one of the brightest stars, their Army top doc. The following are some words penned by another good friend of Doc Blanck, Lt. Col. Jim Diehl, on the occasion of toll's retirement:

The military has ceremonies for all sorts of events, even daily rituals like lowering the flag at the end of a duty day. They are so commonplace that we sometimes scarcely notice them. But when the last note of the bugle faded on 29 June, the nation became poorer, as a most unusual Army soldier hung up his uniform and retired after 32 years of distinguished and selfless service.

Blanck was unusual at the start. When he joined the Army in 1968, many college graduates were trying to avoid military service altogether. He volunteered for Vietnam and requested assignment as a general medical officer--a surgeon for a line unit. It's not easy to distinguish yourself among military medics--whose courage under fire is legendary, for they are armed only with their skill and determination to help their fellows. Yet stand out he has.

Some 28 years later, this self-effacing officer with a legendary sense of humor was promoted to Lieutenant General and sworn in as the Surgeon General of the Army, the first osteopath ever named to this prestigious post. He proceeded to consolidate two large staffs, which not only saved money but also freed more medical personnel to return to clinics and hospitals.

He also fought the good fight inside the Beltway, which in today's world unfortunately translates into recognizing that we have asked our soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines to do far too much, for far too long, with far too little.

One might expect that a three-star general in charge of a $6 billion global organization would be too busy for troops. This one stayed in touch through personal, monthly e-mails, in which he highlighted people, challenges, and cost-effective solutions--signing them 'toll.'

He quietly slipped out of town on holidays to visit his soldiers in places like Guatemala or Nicaragua, where they are doing a nation's bidding in humanitarian work to promote regional stability. Then he wrote about them in his newsletters.

If you closed your eyes and listened to him speak about 'unleashed creative potential,' you might mistake him for a business professor. But when he applied these ideas to the development of advanced life support litters and Armored Medical Evacuation Vehicles, you realize that these ideas give us a better chance of bringing more soldiers home alive from tomorrow's Mogadishus or future battlefields.

One hopes that General Blanck has a very large duffel bag, because he takes with him the admiration and affection of not only the 70,000 personnel of the Army Medical Command, but also those of us privileged to have studied and enjoyed his mentorship--and his jokes. And as a Shaft aside, what lousy jokes.

Send letters to Sgt. Shaft, c/o John Fales, P.O. Box 65900, Washington, D.C. 20035-5900; fax to 301-622-3330; call 202-462-4430 or email sgtshaft@bavf.org.

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