Purple Heart

Immediately after the explosion, a medic triaged U.S. Army National Guard Specialist Steve Beaty and told him the blood and tissue that covered him was not his own, and then dashed off to attend to another  victim of the blast that killed two. 

Moments before, Beaty, 30, a military police soldier, had just landed at a remote U.S. military outpost south of Kandahar, Afghanistan. For security reasons, he could not reveal the location, which was a 45-minute Chinook helicopter ride from Kandahar Province.

Beaty’s mission, and that of the 13 other personnel as part of the Personal Security Detail (PSD) with him, was to safeguard a U.S. Army colonel who was touring the base and to see the safe unloading of crucial supplies. 

“(The medic) came up and told me, ‘You’ll be OK. This is not any of your blood,’” Beaty recalled after the Taliban infiltrator blew himself up about 12 feet from him about 9:45 a.m. Oct. 13.

Beaty, a member of the 484 Military Police Co. of Billings and the son of Mike and Deb Beaty of Libby, is trained to recognize irregularities that might indicate terrorists among the troops. It’s part of his police training as he protects military officers.

“I was just about to engage him,” Beaty said of the terrorist who was dressed in an Afghan military uniform. “It was about 90 degrees, and this guy had a coat on. He should never have gotten this close.”

Beaty and the colonel’s entourage of 14 had just touched ground when the terrorist, who did not travel to the site with the entourage, and others approached the colonel.

The Blast

“He was about 12 feet away, about 15 feet from my colonel,” Beaty recalled. “I was going to make sure he wasn’t going to take another step,” Beaty said from the dining room of his parents’ two-story log home just north of Libby.

The explosion knocked Beaty to the ground, wounding him severely as five of the ball-bearings packed with the explosives struck him, even penetrating his body armor. 

“I got shrapnel in my right side. Another piece hit my upper thigh, two hit me in the foot and broke two bones. Another piece entered my chest and broke my sternum,” Beaty said.

Immediately after the blast, Beaty tried to get to his feet and quickly fell.

“I tried to get up, take a step and collapsed,” Beaty said. “I looked at my foot, and thought, ‘It can’t be that bad.’”

But it was.

Beaty didn’t know it yet, but the shrapnel in his chest just missed his heart. It’s still there. While doctors have removed the other pieces of metal, they opted to leave the piece near his heart.

His colonel took a piece of shrapnel to his leg.

In moments, Beaty was whisked away, first to Kandahar and then to Germany to be stabilized before returning to Fort Lewis in Spokane where he had the surgery to set the bones in his foot.

“It was amazing. Fifteen minutes after the medic first saw me I was on my way back to KAF (Kandahar Air Field),” Beaty said. “They have some of the best doctors in the world there. They see everything: Gunshots, knife wounds to multiple (injuries).”

Reflection

Beaty said he often reflects on that day, admitting to post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

As he prepared to engage the terrorist, he could see from his eyes the terrorist knew now was the time to act, knowingly fearing the M249 Squad Automatic Weapon Beaty was carrying is capable of firing 800 rounds a minute. 

In an instant, the Taliban infiltrator detonated the Homemade Explosive (HME) packed with ball-bearings, killing a U.S. soldier and an FBI agent who was among the entourage training the Nationalized Defense Security (NDS), the Afghan equivalent of the FBI. 

The terrorist was just one of a growing trend of Taliban infiltrators who have managed to work their way among security forces as allied troops in Afghanistan.

“We don’t know how they do it,” Beaty said. “I’m sure they’ve figured this one out, but it’s above me (his security clearance).”

Beaty said since that day, he’s had plenty of time to think about the infiltrator.

“We don’t know the circumstances,” Beaty said. “We don’t know whether the Taliban was holding a member of his family or just what the circumstances are.”

Grateful Afghans

Still, Beaty is sure of one thing: Most Afghans see the benefit of the U.S.-led troops in their country.

“I would say 90 percent of Afghans are thankful we are there,” he said. “They see the roads we’re building, the schools we’re building, the safe drinking water we’re providing. It’s that 10 percent who are fighting us, who demean women, who don’t want to see positive change.”

Since that attack, the personal security detail has made changes, Beaty said. Now, all entourages have an added person, whom they refer to as a “guardian angel.”

“It’s the guardian angels’ job to stay back about 40 feet to oversee the whole operation,” Beaty said, indicating this distance would be out of most of the blast radius.

Beaty said in his four-plus months in Afghanistan, the grateful people amaze him.

“We’ve been to feasts, meals they put out for us. In one setting, they provided more food for us in a day, than they eat in a whole month,” Beaty said.

At Home

The time with family this Thanksgiving has helped him to reflect on family and his career.

“I joined to get law-enforcement experience,” Beaty admitted. “In February, I’ll have four years, two more years in my contract. I don’t regret a thing. I had a goal to be a police officer. I absolutely have no regrets. No bad feelings, whatsoever. It’s been one of the best decisions I have ever made. I now have structure in my life. I’ve learned to be a team player and developed leadership skills. It’s been wonderful, and I joined for a purpose, to get into law enforcement.”

On Monday, Beaty left his parents home to head back to Fort Lewis. On Thursday, about six weeks after the attack, he will undergo surgery to remove the pins in his foot that have aided the healing process.

Last Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, there still was an air of gratefulness in the Beaty home. 

Their son and uncle was home.

Safe. Far from battle.

For Mike Beaty, Steve’s father, his son’s time in Afghanistan was punctuated with prayer.

“You pray and hope he’ll be OK,” Mike Beaty said.

“He’s always been our Superman, but I think he’s figured out he’s not 10-feet tall anymore.”

“When we heard what his duties would be — protecting officers — we were concerned, but like I said he’s always been there to help people. Like I said, our Superman. When he was in high school, he saved a little girl who fell from the bleachers.”

For Deb Beaty, Steve Beaty’s step-mother, she, too, put his care in prayer.

“He’s a good Christian. The girls (nieces Allie, 6, and Emily, 4,) prayed for him each night,” Deb Beaty said. “While he was over there, their prayers were to keep him safe. After he came back, even wounded, it was thanks for bringing him back safely.”

And, as for Beaty, he’s grateful for all the support.

“Everyone has just been great,” Beaty said. “Even the commanders came to see me in my hospital room. Really terrific.”