[LtCol (s) Janet Deltuva (CCC-SLP), was working in the Pentagon on September 11, 2001. She writes…]
I’ll try to tell my story in this letter because I think it will help to move towards normalcy. Everyone is saying to “talk” about it, so here it goes. Please remember there are thousands of these stories, and thousands of people impacted, especially in NYC. Keep them and the rescue workers in your prayers.
My office is on the opposite side of the Pentagon in the center “ring.” We were watching CNN and the World Trade towers attack and commented on “what a target D.C. is, the White House or the Pentagon.” Then there was a loud screaming sound and whump! The screaming was the plane engine accelerating and the whump was the plane hitting.
The next thing that happened was all our office mates looked for each other, we gathered up and left the building together. We ran down the corridors and stairs and the building was already filling with smoke. As we passed an entrance into the interior courtyard, we could see the smoke on the other side of the building and an announcement came on for everyone to evacuate in the direction, opposite the attack. For those familiar with the Pentagon, it was towards the POAC entrance. I remember saying “Jesus, help me” and felt incredibly calm instantly.
As we walked out of the building we hugged and reassured and always kept our eyes on each other. I knew already that I would stop at the Pentagon Clinic to offer to help…I have done “casualty” training several times as an Air Force Biomedical Specialist. I know I would not be saving lives directly, but that I could organize, assist and be a great go–fer.
When I went into the clinic, everyone was already “in gear” doing what they were extremely well trained to do–all branches of the service working together. Someone said “I need this to go to the center courtyard”–it was a large silver case full of medical supplies–so I grabbed it and ran…very thankful that I did not wear a skirt with heels to work that day!
When I got to the courtyard there were already some casualties being treated…all within what I would guess was the first 5 minutes. One man was in very bad shape…a burn/blast victim. Several with smoke inhalation and several in shock. I scrambled to look for supplies as medical personnel (doctors and nurses) rendered care. “I need an IV line. I need Oxygen. I need tape”–sometimes it was available and sometimes an Army Nurse, Maj Laurie Brown (an awesome woman!) radioed back for the supplies. They set up triage areas, yelling that “expectant” was to the left, “immediate” to the right, and “walking wounded” over there.
Lt General Carlton, USAF Surgeon General arrived on the scene and quickly looked over the patients and gave more specific instructions. He asked about other people and then took an Army enlisted man and ran back into the burning building. He emerged later with what seemed like several more victims. The General was sooty, and had what appeared to be molten metal on the back of his “physician’s” vest. He was obviously in a very dangerous and heated area. I gave him a towel, some gloves and a surgical mask to filter the smoke. He chuckles at the gloves and said “you don’t understand.”
I was distributing surgical gloves to everyone and reminding them to keep them on, as we did not know what we would be faced with in the way of casualties.
The Navy enlisted lady came out stumbling with some folks supporting her as she fell to the grass. Her name was Christine and she was obviously having trouble breathing. She lay on the ground with tears rolling on her face. I went over to reassure her and the chaplain joined my side. Knowing that Christine was OK I looked around again for someone who might need help. Another Army Lt Col came out. He was walking and “chatty” saying he was OK. He was wet, his eyebrows and lashes were singed and we kept asking him to sit down. The medical staff started an IV. He stated that he was standing talking with someone and suddenly the floor just pushed up from under him–he was thrown and then got up and ran.
There was no sense of time at all. Somewhere in this mess I kept trying to get a cell phone connection to let Rick know that I was OK. The phone lines were busy for several attempt–then finally it rang and I only got his voice mail–but thank God for that!
In the lost sense of time, we heard that there was two more hijacked planes inbound to the Pentagon and we needed to clear the area. I looked around and grabbed some supplies and for someone who might need help as I ran from the area. There was an Army Lt Col, obviously near the blast-dirtied uniform, struggling to support a civilian woman with her arm bandaged. I ran over to take her from the other side and help to evacuate her. As we approached the Pentagon to re-enter on the opposite side of the courtyard, a patient on a litter was screaming not to re-enter the building again. They tried to calm her and pressed forward. The lady I was helping was becoming weaker and we had to support her more and more. Eventually, a man who was not injured and stronger came along to take the patients I was helping. As I type this, I now know why my body is sore today–I had forgotten the ways in which I moved and now understand why it feels like a truck ran over me.