The most difficult part of combat medic training for me was Field Assessment or practical application. I “killed” a patient in the first three minutes of the first live exercise.
Here’s the scenario: We were out in the bush near Sheppard Air Force Base in Texas in January. It was cold and rainy that day. Most of our instructors had actual combat experience or had been in field emergencies. There is a training technique known as moulage where live patients are made up with realistic, simulated injuries. I mean, blood spurting out of the throat, eyeballs hanging out - the typical stuff you would see at a major accident or in combat. Add in the mock gunfire and ground munitions going off and you would swear you were actually in a war.
When my team arrived on scene, there were “bodies” strewn around in a small meadow. One dude was actually hanging from a tree. The first victim I approached had a simulated sucking chest wound. Instructors stood by and provided information like heart rate, breathing, blood pressure, etc, while we were supposed to start life-saving measures and use actual bandages like a cravat. I plugged the hole but I was scared and confused and couldn’t focus on what to do next. All the while, the instructor is yelling, “His pressure is dropping!…His breathing is shallowing out!…He’s unconscious!” I completely froze and the instructor yelled, “He’s dead, move on.” I was angry and frustrated. I knew what to do but couldn’t get my mind in gear. I was cold and my hands were shaking from the adrenaline, but I had to move on to the next victim.
There was always a debrief at the end of these exercises. The head instructor asked how many of us killed a patient that day. Mine was the only hand raised. Though it seemed like he was only talking to me, he looked at the class and said, “We teach you really simple stuff and practice these scenarios so you know what to do when shit hits the fan.” Valuable life lesson.
There is a Zen concept known as Mushin that most martial artists are aware of but I believe few understand and practice. Like many Japanese terms, we often get stuck on the translation which simply means, “no mind.” But mushin is far more than just not thinking about anything in particular. Remember, we’re talking about a Zen concept and that means we are talking about ego mitigation. Arguably, the ego drives everything in our consciousness: fear, anger, love, hate, desire, you name it. Ultimately, the ego is all about self, or maybe, selfishness? I felt a wave of emotions during my training scenario, including embarrassment. I was with two other students but I had the team lead role in that first exercise and I didn’t want to look stupid. To the instructor’s point, nobody cares how you look as long as you do your job.
I am a little biased, but I believe the Japanese martial arts (budo) drive this point home in many ways. A fundamental yet significant training method used in Judo, for example, is ichikomi. A judoka (student) will practice throwing or “loading” his partner several times before executing the actual throw. As with any throwing art, entry is key and and takes a ton of repetition to get it right. Now, there is nothing really noteworthy or “cool” about ichikomi. But if you have ever practiced it, you enter into a “Zen” state of mind. The same can be said for practicing basics (kihon) or kata in karate. Though certainly not found solely in martial arts, this type of mindset is rooted in many traditional and modern combat forms.
We practice mushin in the dojo so that we learn how to deal with stressful situations, like busy work schedules, physical emergencies…and combat. Not that you should act like a robot, but that your body has performed the same repetition so many times that you do it without thought. No fear, no angst, no anger. Not even reaction - just action. Mushin is a lot like walking; we do it every day without thinking about it. Unless you are a runway model or making a Tik Tok video, there is nothing fancy or thoughtful about walking. You’ve done it so many times that your mind is free focus on other things but not any one thing in particular. That is mushin.
In practicing martial arts for more than 37 years, I’ve come to really appreciate simple repetition and practice. Every once in a while I will have students do something out of the ordinary to challenge them - and me. But for the most part, we do the same drills over and over so that our bodies know what to do when the shit hits the fan. More importantly, it instills in us a unique sense of discipline and comradery known in few places outside of a dojo.
Given my first dreadful field experience and all of the years that have passed since then, I think the value of mushin lies in learning how to think clearly and critically. To ignore the superfluous and focus on what really matters. Imagine what the world could be if we all tried to practice a little mushin.
Dave Magliano
Jissenkan Budo
Dojo Cho
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