COL. JAMES B. BARKLEY
59th Aviation Troop
South Carolina Army National Guard
Eastover, South Carolina
I should be dead. The rate at which my head was accelerating when it struck the concrete barrier would have ended my life had it not been for my Kevlar. Call it what you will — divine intervention, perhaps premonition — but if I had not put on my Kevlar for that 10-minute bicycle ride, I would be dead.
Those of you who have deployed know transportation is constantly an issue, and my time in Iraq was no exception. There isn’t a sufficient quantity of transportation assets to adequately cover a battalion in a 24/7, split-operations scenario. As Task Force 151’s executive officer, I had my own HMMWV and driver, but I gave them up to the line companies who needed them more than I did.
I’d procured a bicycle during my first weeks in country and used it exclusively on the FOB. Not only was I staying in shape, I could also navigate quickly through areas blocked to vehicle traffic. I could, in fact, get to my office faster than if I were forced to drive. Getting to the flight-line was another story; but again, I was getting a lot of exercise.
Unfortunately, people being who they are, my bicycle was stolen. Well, it wasn’t really stolen, someone just “traded” me theirs. It was the same model, but in much worse shape. However, the greatest loss wasn’t the bicycle, it was my helmet; I couldn’t replace it easily. In a stroke of luck, when I bought the bicycle, the PX also had the protective helmet and lights required, by regulation, to properly operate it. Now I was without, and bicycle helmets were out of stock.
I could wear my Kevlar, but it was heavy and bulky compared to my bicycle helmet. And I definitely couldn’t leave it outside on my bicycle like I had with my other helmet. Therefore, I pushed my luck. I rode helmetless for exactly two days before running into the COSCOM commander. He smiled very patiently as I told my story of woe, but he wasn’t smiling when he cited the regulation regarding proper bicycle operation. He spoke of leading by example and doing what was right regardless who was watching. Humbled, I knew he was right.
I walked my bicycle back to my room and left it there. For nearly two weeks I stubbornly walked everywhere, but I began losing patience with the time it took to get to my destination. Finally, I decided to cowboy up, put on my Kevlar and begin riding my bike again.
In Iraq, I’d go through periods when I couldn’t sleep. My rule of thumb was if I lay in bed more than an hour, I’d get up and read. If I went back to bed and still couldn’t sleep, I’d go to the office. This fateful night was no different. Unable to turn off my brain, I got dressed and headed for the door. I distinctly remember looking at my Kevlar and thinking, “It’s 0130. Who would be up at this hour to see me?” To this day, I still can’t honestly say why I put on my Kevlar, but I did. That action saved my life.
As I pedaled down the road in the middle of the night, I found myself riding into bright light. Excavation equipment was in operation on the road and portable lights lit the primary and surrounding areas where the work was focused. Unfortunately, the lights destroyed my night vision, and I slowed to pass the area. With the road work now behind me, I accelerated but was having trouble seeing very far ahead.
Suddenly, my eyes saw something directly in front of me my brain couldn’t register and process quickly enough to avoid. It was a concrete barrier, about 4 feet tall, spanning the entire width of the road. The time between when I saw the barrier and realized what it was took just milliseconds. I hit the barrier at full force, crushing my front rim and forks, and breaking the gooseneck off at the upper frame. The sudden stop of the bike’s front end accelerated me over the handle bars, dragging my biceps and forearms along the top of the barrier and slamming the front lip of my Kevlar on the opposite side. I heard the oddest sound I couldn’t place until later; it was the air being forced out of my lungs as my body contacted the ground.
I just lay there as I tried to figure out what had happened. My disorientation slowly evaporated as I went from shock to anger. Sitting up, my back against the barrier, I regained my composure, checked for broken bones and then stood up slowly. As I stared at my bicycle, I realized how lucky — not just a little lucky, but miracle-type lucky — I was to have worn my Kevlar. The concrete at the point of impact had broken away, and my blood and skin decorated the top of the barrier.
If I hadn’t worn my Kevlar, my forehead would have absorbed the impact with the barrier and I would have died. My military-issue helmet, designed to protect my head from fragmenting munitions, turned out to be a lifesaver in a way the Army likely never imagined.
FYI
For optimal safety, ensure you are operating your bicycle in accordance with Army Regulation 385-10, The Army Safety Program:
- (1) Bicycle safety will be an integral part of each installation traffic safety program.
- (2) Bicycle helmets approved by the Consumer Product Safety Commission will be worn by all personnel, including Family members, who ride bicycles on Army installations. Previously purchased bicycle helmets certified by the American Society for Testing and Materials may also be worn but when purchasing a new helmet, riders should look for the Consumer Product Safety Commission certification. Outside CONUS, riders may wear HN helmets if the helmet meets or exceeds Consumer Product Safety Commission standards.
- (3) For Government-owned three-wheeled bicycles that are operated within operational work areas, commanders may use RM procedures to determine exceptions to the helmet requirement.
- (4) Wearing headphones, earphones, or other listening devices while bicycling on or adjacent to roadways on DOD installations is prohibited.
- (5) When bicycling on roadways on DOD installations during hours of darkness or reduced visibility, bicycles will be equipped with operable headlights and taillights, and the bicyclist will wear a reflective upper outer garment.