A mini-tornado suddenly streaked across the barren desert

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A private in her early 20s plummeted from the nearly five-story tower and slammed against the parched earth. The young woman¹s commander, Maj. Al Garbarino, a U.S. Army reservist from North Merrick, reacted instinctively. He leapt into a nearby Humvee and raced a quarter-mile from prison headquarters to help evacuate the victim.
It was June 6, 2003. U.S. and British forces had taken control of Iraq. But an insurgency, led by Saddam Hussein loyalists, terrorists and mobsters, was rapidly coalescing.
As Garbarino lifted the specialist¹s gurney, he felt his back snap. Pain pulsed through his vertebrae. The private was OK. She broke her wrist and was sent home. The then 46-year-old Garbarino was far more severely injured, but he remained in Iraq.
Garbarino, who volunteered to serve in the combat zone, had been away from his wife and two young children for more than half a year. He was battle-weary, having taken part in the invasion of Iraq. A military field doctor examined him, fed him Celebrex, Motrin and Naproxen to reduce ‹ though not relieve ‹ his pain, and returned him to the field. The doctor never X-rayed him.
Garbarino was the 800th Military Police Brigade¹s operations officer, in charge of eight battalions and 22 companies ‹ 2,300 men and women in all. The Army could not lose an officer as high ranking as he. Military command considered his camp, at which 30,000 Iraqi forces were jailed, to be a model of humane prisoner treatment.
The major, who earned a Bronze Star for heroism under fire in Iraq, soldiered on. ³I was going through all kinds of pain. I just gutted it out,² he says.
Garbarino spent the next six months dodging rocket-propelled grenades, homemade bombs, mortar and machine-gun fire, in the desert and in Baghdad. He survived four close calls in which he was nearly killed. All the while, his spine, with its two herniated and two bulging discs, desperately needed surgery.
Living conditions only exacerbated his back problem. Garbarino was on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week. He was awake 20 hours at a stretch much of the time. At night, insurgents relentlessly shelled his prison base, while he slept on the hard ground or on a cot that offered little back support, so any rest he got was fitful at best. Exhaustion was among Garbarino¹s worst enemies.
He also went hungry much of the time. Often, he ate only one meal a day because supplies ran low. The desert sweltered at 130 degrees in the afternoon, so he constantly fought dehydration. And he contended with deadly spiders, scorpions and snakes, including eight varieties of vipers and cobras.
Garbarino has suffered through three rounds of major surgery since he returned home in 2004. That summer, he endured a hernia operation. Last year, doctors replaced his right shoulder joint with an artificial limb. This past month, he had two discs removed from his spine; bone grafts strung to metal rods replaced them. Two other discs were fused together.
Garbarino¹s back is now incredibly weak. Last week, he attempted a short walk to the end of his block, and he nearly collapsed from pain. He must wear a back brace constantly, as well as a patch that beams electromagnetic signals to his spine to stimulate bone growth. Garbarino cannot work for at least three months, according to his doctor¹s report. The major worries that his recovery could take six months or longer.
Garbarino¹s biggest trouble is that he is rapidly running out of sick days. Before he shipped off to Iraq, he had hardly taken a day off in 20 years from his civilian job in the state court system. He had planned to trade in his accumulated days upon retirement to fund part of his medical insurance, but no more. Of his original 800 hours of leave, he is now down to 107, or 15 days. When those are spent ‹ which they will be before June ends ‹ his salary will stop.
Garbarino will continue receiving disability checks, but they total nowhere near his regular pay as a clerk at State Supreme Court in Queens. Garbarino¹s wife of 13 years, Roseanne, is a secretary at the court, where the couple met. Her salary alone would not cover their mortgage and other household expenses.
The Garbarinos are uncertain how they will make ends meet, unless the Defense Department offers Al military pay, which thus far it has refused to do. ³It¹s going to be tough,² Garbarino says. ³I¹ve got two kids, so it¹s a concern.²
War, a family affair
Garbarino¹s daughters, Alyssa and Christina, now ages 9 and 6, respectively, were 6 and 3 when their father shipped off to war. Many days Alyssa, who was more aware of the dangers that her father faced, cried herself to sleep. The girls eventually moved into their parents¹ bedroom to huddle with their mom at night.
³It was scary because we were alone,² says Roseanne Garbarino. ³I was left all alone. I had to try to keep normalcy. I had to take the kids everywhere.²
Alyssa and Christina were often sick while their father was away. One time, Christina simultaneously came down with strep throat and an ear infection. She vomited for hours, and her fever soared past 103 degrees. Her mother gave her an ice bath to reduce her temperature. ³I remember sitting by the tub by myself, crying,² Roseanne says. ³Things like that were very frightening.²
The children lived for any news of their dad. ³Every once in a while after school, we¹d get a letter,² Alyssa remembers, and the girls felt better for a while, believing that their father was safe.
³I feel bad for my wife; my kids suffered through this,² Al Garbarino says. ³My kids went through a lot of stress. My older one was really stressed. People told her that she was a special kid. She would say that she just wanted to be a regular kid.²
A battle with the military
A military doctor, a cardiologist, looked over Garbarino¹s back during his waning days in Iraq. His diagnosis: Medical intervention was needed ‹ fast. The doctor wanted to send him to a U.S. military base in Germany for treatment. But Garbarino believed he would receive better care at Fort Dix in New Jersey, where he could be close to his family while he recovered. His hopes, however, were quickly dashed upon his return to the U.S.
The leadership at Fort Dix was primarily concerned with returning soldiers to civilian life as quickly as possible, Garbarino says. He would not receive the treatment regimen that he expected. A doctor there, a lieutenant, documented Garbarino¹s back condition, but only after the major ordered him to. Garbarino provided the Herald with a copy of that medical report.
As a final insult, Garbarino says, a supply sergeant wanted him to pay $80 for a fleece jacket that was stolen from his backpack in transit from Iraq to the U.S. Garbarino refused.
The Merokean left Fort Dix disconsolate, angry and in as much pain as ever. Since then, he has fought the military to provide him with the medical care that he believes he deserves. The Defense Department has responded only with form letters denying him coverage. So, he must depend on private doctors and his own insurance, for which he has paid hefty co-payments that have run into the thousands of dollars.
Garbarino also says the Defense Department will not offer him ³active duty orders,² which would provide him with military pay to compensate him for lost sick days from his civilian job. As reported in a previous Herald article, ³No help for war hero² (April 6-13 issue), calls to the department went unanswered. Since then, Garbarino has heard nothing from the military.
He has written to local lawmakers, hoping they would help. Only one, U.S. Rep. Peter King, a Republican of Seaford, responded. The congressman sent a few form letters and made a few phone calls to the Defense Department. The Herald contacted King¹s office for its earlier article.
Since then, Garbarino says that he has heard only once from the lawmaker. King, the House Homeland Security Committee chairman, who has been among the Iraq war¹s leading proponents, had nothing to offer.
Garbarino recently hired an attorney to argue his case before the Defense Department. ³I¹m hoping the military does something,² he says, with a tinge of resignation in his voice.
Comments about this story? SBrinton@liherald.com or (516) 569-4000 ext. 203.