Lumberjack in a Desert - jrsalzman.com

ESPN Walter Reed Interview 1
Sunday, May 11, 2008
1:12:08 PM

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More ESPN Interviews from Walter Reed. Normally these videos would never see the light of day. I think that is a total waste, so why not put them up on here? This was shot last summer.

Walter Reed Memories 1
Friday, May 09, 2008
11:28:40 PM

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Getting interviewed at Walter Reed while making fun of my Occupational Therapist. Good times.

Alive Day Memories - Brian Williams & James Gandolfini
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
10:17:43 PM

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This is a great video about the story behind HBO's documentary Alive Day. If you want to buy the DVD, Amazon has it. I'll warn you though, the video was produced in such a true and unedited fashion it will rip your heart out of your chest. Yes, even me, and I have my own Alive Day (December 19, 2006).

Occupational Therapy
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
12:32:32 AM

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I found this video online while stalling from studying for finals. CPT Katie is no longer at Walter Reed, but you get the idea what we did in occupational therapy every day. I think all of us in this video are home now. The little blip of me was taken when I was learning how to write left handed.

Early Season Log Rolling
Monday, April 28, 2008
12:19:07 AM

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Yes, there is ice on the lake. Yes, it is snowing out. No, I do not care. Dust off your spikes, it's log rolling season.

Moving Servers
Friday, April 25, 2008
3:51:21 AM

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A lot of you have noticed that my website has been down a lot the last two months. After bickering with my host a few times over their lack of service, I've finally had enough. Jrsalzman.com will be moving in the next few days to a better, more dependable host. In the meantime, I'm temporarily hosting it on a crude server I set up. Please bear with me. Service will be intermittent.

Update:
The move seems to be complete. I had some database issues to resolve, but they seem to be fixed. Let me know if you encounter any bugs. Also, the comments work again. Leave me some love.

Book Intro
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
5:36:23 PM

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The post below is basically the beginning of the book I'm writing, Lumberjack in a Desert. Let me know what you think in the comments. I apologize for the language used, but I feel it needs to be conveyed exactly as it happened without pulling any punches.

2217 Dec 19, 2006. Baghdad, Iraq
Friday, April 11, 2008
2:50:17 AM

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2217 Dec 19, 2006. Baghdad, Iraq

I woke up to the sound of my gunner screaming. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!” He was brushing and patting down his legs. I’m not sure if it was because he thought his legs were on fire, or if it was from the searing burn of hot copper shrapnel and bone fragments that had just entered his legs. Everything was suddenly very loud.

Our gun truck had somehow come to a stop on the MSR. The road through the windshield was unusually dark. Usually lit up like daylight with eight spotlights in front of our gun truck, it was now barely lit by a couple of surviving lights. The smell of burning copper, electronics, and flesh was thick in the air to the point of being nauseating. It’s a smell I will never forget, a smell that still permeates some of my surviving gear to this day. It still reminds me of death.

After a second or two of dazed confusion, I said out loud in a pleading, quiet, murmur to myself, “Oh Josie, oh Josie!” This was only my fourth mission out since I returned from my two week R&R back home. My young wife of 9 months was fresh on my mind, even if we had only spent a total of 3 weeks together as a married couple.

“I can’t feel my arm!” I groaned. I was trying to open my passenger side door. Instinctively reaching for the door handle with my right hand, I repeatedly tried to push the opening lever but to no avail. I finally looked down at my arm to see why it was starting to burn like hell and quickly realized why I couldn’t open my door.

Where my right hand and wrist had been seconds earlier was now a mangled chunk of flesh, veins, and tendons. Two white bones protruded out an inch past the mangled flesh. The burning pain was unbelievable. “Oh shit” I thought to myself, “I need a tourniquet”. I was surprisingly calm about it. My right hand and wrist were completely gone.

My training was kicking in. The months of monotonous, repetitive training we had constantly bitched about was now telling me what to do amidst the pain and confusion. I looked down at my left hand to see that it was still there, but not fully functioning. I could only move my thumb, index, and middle finger. The rest were curled up, and numb. Even through the Olive Drab colored flight glove still covering my left hand, I could tell it was extremely mangled and starting to swell.

"How the hell am I supposed to get a tourniquet on now?" I thought to myself. I always made it a point to carry an extra homemade tourniquet my left lower pant pocket. Composed of engineer’s tape, a Gatorade bottle seal, and tongue depressors taped together, it took seconds to apply. This was of course in addition to the fancy Army issue one contained in the first aid kit on my body armor. The medics had warned us if you really cranked down on them, they could break. Never leaving anything to chance, I had been carrying mine around for months prior to my squad leader deciding it was a good idea. It would do little good now. With one hand completely gone and the other mangled, there was no way in hell I could apply a tourniquet to myself.

“Fuck, I need someone to give me a tourniquet” I thought to myself. I wasn’t sure what everyone else in the convoy was doing. We were gun truck #1, the scout truck for a twenty fuel tanker convoy, so we were at least 300 meters ahead of everyone else. Doc Krisko was way back in gun truck #3 so we could maneuver him wherever he might be needed.

Still sitting inside our idling truck, I tried repeatedly using my left thumb to key my radio, but to no avail. “Great, now what do I do” I thought. I wasn’t sure of the status of my driver and gunner, although at that moment they were regretfully the furthest thought from my mind. Even if they needed help, there would be next to nothing I could do in my state. I could hear them talking to one another, but not over the head sets as usual.

“Hey!” I said to them in an authoritative tone.”Get on the radio, get a hold of truck #3 and get the medic up here! My right arm’s been blown off and if I don’t get a tourniquet on I’m going to bleed out.” I was surprisingly calm as I said it, as if I was issuing one of the many commands I did on these missions. They frantically tried to call anyone on the radio. First my gunner SPC Oliver, then my driver, SPC Fahlin. I looked over at Fahlin for the first time as he keyed his radio and called over the convoy net. “Truck three this is truck one…Three this is one….” He shook his head no, and said “nothing”.

Little did we know, but every piece of electronic navigation or communication equipment in my truck (besides my personal Garmin GPS) had been completely destroyed in the blast. The expensive new Harris radios, the FBCB2 navigation and communication computer, along with everything else was nothing more than a smoldering pile of electronics.

“I’m gonna see if I can yell to them”, Oliver hollered. Truck two was creeping up behind us looking for secondary IEDs, a common tactic used by insurgents. “Hey! Hey! We need to get Doc up here! Salzman’s fucked up! His arm is fucking gone!”

As I sat in my truck waiting for the medic to arrive, I started to check myself over. I knew there was no way I could get a tourniquet on myself so I did the only thing I could do. I took my still glove covered left hand and cupped it over the missing end of my right arm. I’m not sure if made it bleed any less but it made me feel better nonetheless.

I started to check my body over for other injuries. I shuffled my feet back and forth. I moved my legs up and down. Everything was still intact. Sweet! I thought to myself. I can still log roll! I always said regardless what happens to me in Iraq, as long as I still have my legs and I can still log roll I’ll be happy.

I checked the rest of my body over. My manhood was still intact. I moved my chest and shoulders under my IBA (Interceptor Body Armor). Everything felt intact.

I sat there waiting for the medic to arrive. The seconds ticked by like minutes. As I sat there waiting the thought of dying went through my mind for a split second. No way. No fucking way am I dying here. Not here, not now, not in this country.

That’s the last time I ever thought about dying.

Sawyer County Record
Thursday, March 20, 2008
11:57:31 PM

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The Sawyer County Record has a great article on my speaking engagement at the Hayward Community School District.

Pursue your goals and dreams, whatever they are. Be a rock star. Hunt. Fish. Or be a world champion logroller.

That was the message that JR Salzman shared with students at the Hayward Intermediate School Monday morning.

Salzman, a Hayward native and five-time world champion logroller, stood before students in the same gymnasium where he attended assemblies and played basketball as a student, wearing his camouflage Minnesota National Guard uniform. And a prosthetic arm.

On Dec. 19, 2006, while commanding a Humvee at the head of a fuel convoy in Baghdad, Salzman was severely injured when an IED (an Improvised Explosive Device) detonated, severing his right arm below the elbow, injuring his left and causing a traumatic brain injury (TBI).

Hayward soldier tells kids fear shouldn’t disable goals
Thursday, March 20, 2008
11:43:03 PM

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"HAYWARD — “Everybody, right now, look at your right hand or your left hand — whatever hand you use the most,” J.R. Salzman instructed the students at Hayward Intermediate School. “Now imagine you wake up tomorrow, and imagine it’s not there — what would you do?”

It’s not a hypothetical question for Salzman.

While serving in Iraq in December 2006, the five-time world champion log roller was escorting a convoy of fuel tankers when a bomb hit his Humvee. He lost his right arm below the elbow.

Full story here. -Duluth News Tribune

Vail Veterans Program II
Friday, March 14, 2008
2:55:06 AM

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I removed the Vail Veterans Program video because I got tired of it playing every time the page loaded.You can still watch it right here..

Vail Veterans Program
Monday, March 10, 2008
12:54:42 AM

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Via the Vail Trail - Wounded veterans smile on the slopes

The light was flat, the wind was blowing and there wasn’t much new snow to speak of. For most Vail skiers, it wasn’t a day to be on the mountain.

But for a group of 27 wounded veterans at Vail’s Golden Peak, the skiing conditions were of little importance; last Thursday was a day on the mountain and that’s what counted.

After some breakfast at the Larkspur restaurant inside the Golden Peak Lodge, the soldiers met up with their private instructors and headed to the adaptive skiing building next to the high-speed lift. Inside the building, a trio of double-amputee veterans waited to be outfitted on monoskis — a ski attached to a bucket-style seat. When all their equipment seemed to fit, they got back into their wheelchairs and headed to the slopes.

About three hours later, some of the soldiers took a lunch break at the Golden Peak Lodge.

“When I go out and ski, I kind of forget about everything — like missing my legs. It’s just going out and having fun, and allows you to get away from stress of everyday stuff,” said Cpl. Ray Hennagir.

Fishing Season
Friday, February 29, 2008
8:00:55 PM

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Trout catch and release season opens tomorrow!!! I'll try to take pictures.

TBI Update
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
2:54:57 AM

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I finally have my first appointment for examination of my TBI (traumatic brain injury). No need to rush, it's only been 427 days since I was blown up and lost my right arm in Iraq. Better late than never, right?

Going Back
Monday, February 04, 2008
4:40:22 PM

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I've always said I would like to go back to Iraq someday. I'm very interested to see what the country has turned into in 20 or 30 years. More importantly, I would like to go back to the place where I nearly lost my life. Fortunately due to the advent of modern satellite technology, I don't have to wait 20 years. Courtesy of Google Earth, I am able to go back right now and view the very spot. Click on the below images to enlarge (this will open a new window).

As you can see, we were right in the thick of things in northwest Baghdad. We actually made it further south than what I remember. After seeing this image, it made me wonder where exactly the Iranian trigger-man was. Maybe he was on top of the overpass behind us? It's hard to say.

This is a close-up of where we got hit. As you can see there's not a damn thing alongside the road. I'm guessing the EFP (Explosive Formed Penetrator) that hit us was built into a Styrofoam block and painted to look like concrete. They like to put them into the curb so they're almost impossible to spot, especially at night.

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