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multiple severe injuries,” he said with a nod of his head. “A concussion, lacerations, puncture wounds, a broken jaw, and four gunshot wounds were the most severe wounds.”
    “You had been treated at the Combat Support Hospital in Baghdad, Iraq, and flown here for…”
    “Where’s here ?” Where the fuck am I? Where are my men?” I asked, interrupting him as he spoke.
    I gazed into the corridor and watched as two doctors rushed a bloody body down the hallway. As I shifted my focus back to the doctor, I knew one thing, and one thing only. If I wasn’t being charged with a crime, I needed to get the fuck out of there and get back to my Marines. As I pulled against the restraints I noticed the audible signal of my heart rate increase on the monitor. I alternated glanced between the nurses and the doctor as I waited for a response.
    “Mr. Jacob, I’m trying to explain, please settle down and listen…”
    “ Staff Sergeant . I’m Staff Sergeant Jacob. Mr . Jacob is my father, and where are my Marines?” I asked.
    “Staff Sergeant Jacob. I will have you sedated if you don’t settle down,” the doctor said.
    I relaxed onto the bed and did my best to remain calm. “I’m calm. I have questions, and I expect fucking answers. Where am I, and where are my men? Are any of them here?”
    “You are in Landstuhl, Germany at the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. I have no information regarding your men, Marines, their whereabouts, or their medical condition,” he said.
    Confused, groggy, weak, and not wanting, but needing to find out about my Marines, having them remove my restraints, and allowing me to return to combat was my priority. As my mind fumbled with ideas of ways to coerce them to release me, the doctor continued.
    “You attacked your nurse on several occasions. That was our reason behind the restraints. Now that you’re conscious and coherent, if you’ll promise to comply with our medical recommendations and requirements, I will have the restraints removed,” he said.
    As I did my best to nod my head, two Marines in dress blues, both officers, walked past the partition. A few seconds later, they stepped into the opening and stared. The silver and gold oak leaves on their uniforms informed me that they were a Lieutenant Colonel and Major.
    And I needed to stand at attention when they entered the room.
    “Staff Sergeant Jacob,” the Lieutenant Colonel said as he entered the makeshift room.
    “Sir,” I responded with authority. “If you can give the order to have these restraints removed, I’ll stand at attention, Sir.”
    “As you were, Staff Sergeant,” he said, relieving me of the requirement to stand at attention.
    Personally being visited in the hospital by a Lieutenant Colonel and a Marine Major was something only a handful of Marines could claim. Knowing for certain that something was wrong – and terribly wrong – to prompt them to fly halfway around the world to pay me a visit, I silently waited for them to advise me of their reason for the visit.
    “How are you feeling,” the Lieutenant Colonel asked as he approached the foot of the bed.
    “Rested and ready to return to combat, Sir,” I barked in response.
    He glanced at the Major and coughed a light laugh.
    “Quite a mess your platoon stepped into in Fallujah,” he said.
    “Yes, Sir. I was only protecting my Marines, Sir. That’s all it was,” I responded.
    He reached toward the Major with an open hand, and the Major handed him a piece of paper. As he unfolded it, my heart raced at the thought of what crimes they were going to charge me with.
    “I’m not going to bore you with all of this, Staff Sergeant Jacob, but I’ll hit the highlights,” he paused and inhaled a shallow breath.
    “Without hesitation and with complete disregard for his own safety, Staff Sergeant Jacob, while acting as a Platoon Sergeant during the Second Battle of Fallujah, exposed himself to enemy fire while commanding his fellow Marines to maintain