"I know what the Army taught me" After receiving the Army Achievement Medal Nov. 15, Spec. Megan Wilinski shows where the main gunshot wound was on the victim she helped. She kept pressure on the wound and talked to the victim to keep him alert. LA-RFO Photo by Dave Harris. Back to Features

Soldier’s training pays off in life-or-death French Quarter encounter
By Dave Harris, Public Affairs, Louisiana Recovery Field Office

The firecracker sounds of multiple gunshots in the night infused Spec. Megan Wilinski with a blast of adrenalin. She bolted outside dressed in an Army t-shirt over sports garb and camo trousers; she spotted a wave of her cohorts zeroing in on the action.

"Someone’s been shot!"

A bystander called for medics. A woman stood over a fallen victim.

"No one was doing anything," the chemical specialist said. Help was on the way, but no one was caring for the man who was going into shock.

Someone in the crowd asked her, "Do you know first aid?"

"I know what the Army taught me," Megan said, and flew into action.

Megan saw blood coming from the man’s chest, instantly ripped off her own t-shirt and applied pressure to the wound.

Soldiers enlisting in the Army and Corps of Engineers civilians expect to see action and hope to do their part in team efforts to bring about heroic outcomes, especially in Louisiana hurricane recovery operations.

But no one, Megan included, expects to be a hero outside one’s apartment door adjacent to the New Orleans French Quarter, and there was no thought of that now. She thought only of her task at hand, she said.

"I was so calm," she recalled. "I told people what I needed; I didn’t think of anything else—I was on auto-pilot. I thought only of getting the wound covered."

She asked for a knife to cut the victim’s shirt off. A bartender arrived with the knife. Another bartender responded with towels when Megan asked for another shirt and wrapped the victim’s finger with towels; the finger was nearly severed and hanging, apparently from another gunshot wound. Megan found two more gunshot wounds on his arm.

"I had to keep him alert," she said. "I touched his face. I asked him his name and told him mine. He was going into shock and I told him, ‘Keep talking to me.’"

"I’m not going nowhere," responded the victim, who had been working nearby as a dishwasher.

"The police arrived and cleared everyone out," Megan said. "I just kept talking and applying pressure to the wound."

Then paramedics arrived and took over, checking the man’s vital signs. The persistent Soldier told them of her Army first aid training and assisted them in putting the man on a backboard. Shortly after, she learned of two more victims, one whose forehead was grazed with a bullet; another who ultimately died, apparently of blood lost from an arterial leg wound.

Megan’s supervisor, 1st Sgt. Micchicco Thompson, learned of the life-saving incident at 8:30 p.m., about an hour afterward, and learned more about Megan’s first aid training that she received two years ago when she was close to being mobilized.

"We got the training knowing at some point we may have to care for someone and be put in a stressful situation," she said. She practiced her training during refresher sessions at subsequent Reserve drills.

"I was so excited for her," the first sergeant said, and added that she wrote up a citation recognizing Megan for using her Army skills.

As for Megan, she recalled, "I was calm and clearheaded in the middle of the action, but when I got back to my apartment and realized how much blood I had all over me, I broke down—I lost it." A telephone conversation with one of her sergeants resulted in her regaining her composure.

The Soldier was nearing the end of her Louisiana tour, ready to return to her unit, the 360^th Medical Company in Strongsville, Ohio. She has nearly completed a degree in psychology and wants to go to law school.

Before departing, she had to take care of some unfinished business.

Coming in contact with so much blood and noticing a small cut on her hand, she went to the nearby Navy base the next day for tests. The victim was tested, as well, where he was treated.

All tests came out negative, the specialist said.

She paused a moment to tell of her work in demolition quality assurance at the St. Charles Field Office, making sure power lines were dropped, air conditioning units removed, safety issues addressed, load tickets written and checklists followed.

"The best days are when people come and thank you for the demolition work you did for them," she said. "It makes you feel really good."

But there were other days.

"The worst day…" she said with tears welling up, "…was when an older lady in her 60s showed me water-damaged pictures of memories in her parents’ house—the house we were tearing down—a house where her mother was always cooking and keeping it so clean. She was upset, and it was so sad, but she knew it had to be done."

After telling her story, the specialist began processing out and returned to the scene of the crime and her apartment to pack it in.

She had her ticket home, but not without a knapsack jam-packed with heroic feats and adventures.

Memories she’ll never forget.