“Yes, I’m a doctor, but not the medical kind of doctor. I’m, you know, like the ‘Dr. Jones’ kind of doctor.”

<Soldier’s blank stare> “Dr. Jones?”

“Dr. Jones? Indiana Jones? Ark, Grail, Temple of Doom? Doesn’t ring a bell? Seriously?”

“Wait, wasn’t that an old movie? Huh, I dunno, I still don’t think I believe that there are doctors who aren’t medical doctors.”

“Look, whatever, just don’t call me Ma’am.”

That conversation happened more than once, but fortunately most did catch the reference and were happy to call me Doc Reedy. In fact, now that we’re all Stateside again and they could call me by my first name, most still call me Doc. It was weird at first, but I got used to it.

To be fair, I probably watched Indiana Jones one too many times as a kid, and it’s left me with an insatiable appetite for adventure, which explains how I wound up working in two war zones. It was all the adventure I could have hoped for and a whole lot more dark and gritty than I ever imagined. It forced me to sit back, take a hard look at everything, and ask myself, and everyone else I encountered, whether any of it was worth it. Not for me, just in general. I don’t know, but I hope getting the stories out will be a step to help me and all of you who want to come along and see what things look like from the inside find an answer.

So cue the music and here we go…