From Battlefield to Baseball Field: An Army Medic’s Journey to Healing

When U.S. Army Sergeant (Ret.) James came home from Afghanistan, the battle didn’t end, it just changed shape.  

“Coming home was hard,” James says. “One day I’m serving in an emergency room in Afghanistan and two days later I’m sitting in my living room trying to be a husband and a father.” 

While serving as an Army medic for eight years and deploying twice to Afghanistan, James believed he showed strength by stoically persevering through stressful and traumatic experiences.  

After graduating from the Emory Healthcare Veterans Program’s accelerated treatment program, though, he now defines his strength through his family, mentoring, and a brighter future. 

In 2006, James deployed to Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan, new to the Army and eager to learn. "I was just a big sponge," he recalls.

He immersed himself in emergency medicine, working with a strong, tight-knit team in the ER. While the trauma was intense, the camaraderie helped buffer the worst of it.  

His second deployment proved more difficult. This time, James was on the front lines, treating casualties under fire, often without the support of a team. The responsibility weighed on him. One night, James was called to respond to an IED blast and was unable to resuscitate a soldier. 

"That night crippled me,” James says. “It haunted me for years. Just a miserable night. The Army brought in a psychologist to talk to us, and he asked me, ‘How are you doing, Doc? You good?’ I just completely lied. I told him, ‘Yeah, totally good.’”

James felt the need to maintain a facade of strength while serving. 

“That’s where a lot of damage happens in the military. You’re expected to have this mindset—‘Everything’s fine. Drive on. Don’t show weakness.’ So, I put on my boots and went right back to work,” he says. “It was two months into a 10-month deployment; I had to bury what happened and move on.”

When James returned home, the war didn’t stay behind.  

“I’d be at home with my boys, and out of nowhere, those memories would just invade my mind. There was no rhyme or reason—it would just pop in, and it was incredibly challenging,” says James. “There was definitely some survivor’s guilt. I kept thinking, ‘Why didn’t it happen to me instead?’ And then came the overwhelming sense of failure—I couldn’t save him. He was married. He had a family. He had kids.”

James turned to alcohol to cope with the guilt.

“I couldn’t see the good — that I mentored younger soldiers, or that my kids were growing into amazing people. None of it mattered. My brain was locked into this belief that I had failed," he says. "I didn’t know how to come home." 

After medically retiring from the Army, James struggled with a loss of identity and direction. “That started an even harder transition because I had no idea what I wanted to do. My buddies moved away, and I felt alone,” he says.

Then James found the Emory Healthcare Veterans Program through the Wounded Warrior Project®. After being accepted into the program, he initially delayed attending, telling himself he was too busy with work.

Ultimately, he decided to move forward.

James describes the two-week treatment program as a game-changer. 

"It was the most effective treatment, therapy, and conversation I’ve ever had. I’d never experienced anything like it before. My previous therapists let me crack jokes and avoid things. That wasn’t the case at Emory. They wouldn't let me run from it. I had to deal with it.”  

The program was challenging. “There were nights at the hotel when I was just bawling my eyes out, thinking, ‘Why did I put myself through this? Why did I volunteer to come here? ’ But I remember a guy in the program who had already finished his first week. On my first morning, he said, ‘It’s going to be really tough, dude, but you’re going to start to feel better.’ ” 

James was at such a low point, he still thought the program wouldn’t work for him. “But sure enough, two or three days in, I started to see the light.” 

As part of a homework assignment during the program, James was asked to write letters to himself, his family, and even to some of the service members he treated to put his memories down on paper. 

“They were conversations I had always wanted to have, especially with my children. I carried a lot of regret, guilt, and shame,” he says. “Then I took all those letters, burned them, climbed a 14,000-foot mountain, and let the ashes go in the wind. It was one of the most freeing feelings I’ve ever experienced.”

Today, that distance he once felt from his family is gone.

Recently, he and his sons climbed Pikes Peak together for Father’s Day. “It was such an incredible experience,” he says. James now embraces these moments, such as coaching his son’s baseball team or volunteering for second-grade field day.  “I saw the look on my son’s face and knew exactly why I was there.”

”My boys know where to find me. I’m present. And the same goes for being a husband. I’m here for my family, and that means everything.”

James credits much of that transformation to Emory Healthcare Veterans Program and the accelerated treatment program. “I just can’t say enough good things about the program.”

Since graduating from treatment, James is sober, physically healthy, and mentally strong. He went back to school, finished his undergraduate degree, and is pursuing an MBA.  

James practices daily gratitude. He and his wife, married more than 23 years, talk often about how far they’ve come.  

"Just waking up is something to be thankful for," James says. He no longer lets a bad day spiral into weeks or months of darkness. “The sun comes up tomorrow,” he reminds himself. 

James has also reconnected with old friends and is mentoring other veterans. He wants to pursue teaching history. “Being a medic was one of the greatest responsibilities of my life,” he says. “Now I want to make an impact in the classroom.” 

Looking back on his time in the treatment program, James calls it a turning point. “I’ve been through trauma, yes — but I’m stronger because of it,” he says. “I’m a good father, a good husband, a good friend.” These are the qualities he now finds his strength in.  

For James, healing wasn’t just about surviving trauma. It was about reclaiming joy, purpose and connection.