A hero's new home

Soldier who lost his legs in Iraq to benefit from home-building program for American troops.


December 21, 2008

Scott West woke up in Walter Reed Army Medical Center with his mother by his side.

"I tried leaning up and my legs (thighs) came up because I didn't have the weight (from the rest of my legs)," West says.

He flips two fingers in the air as he describes the moment he discovered he'd lost both legs to an improvised explosive device in Iraq.

"I thought, 'I will never walk again. I will never have a cute girlfriend. I will never have a job. I will be a hermit,'" the 23-year-old says.

But that was in 2005.

Now, he's set to marry Samantha Eubanks in January and preparing for a new home.

West will be the first soldier to have a house built for him in Missouri through Homes for Our Troops, a program he learned about during his 14 months at Walter Reed.

Homes for Our Troops pools professionals who volunteer to build or adapt houses for severely wounded military members returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. The servicemen get the house free.

It's a modern-day barn raising, says Vicki Thomas, spokeswoman for the group.

West was selected for a house because the Missouri Credit Union Association teamed up with Homes for Our Troops. The association wanted the home to go to a Missouri soldier. West, of Branson, had already applied for one.

"The Mid Missouri Credit Union in Fort Leonard Wood said let's show people what we can do in the Show-Me state and let's do something here in Missouri," says Amy McLard, with the Missouri Credit Union Association.

To build a house an association must commit $100,000. The bulk of the money is often used to buy land, which is the most expensive part of the process, says Thomas.

Most of the services and supplies are donated by professionals, although all volunteers are welcome.

Rich Hughen, architect with Pellham Phillips in Springfield, signed on to design the West house.

"As a disabled veteran I had seen their stuff several years ago and when I first saw it I volunteered that I would be happy to help if they had a project in the area," says Hughen, who served in the Gulf War.

Even though West uses prosthetics, the house will be fully wheelchair accessible, from the hallway to the shower to the cabinets.

Homes for Our Troops was founded in 2004 by John Gonsalves, a contractor. After watching a news report about an injured serviceman returning from Iraq, Gonsalves wanted to help build the man a house but couldn't find an organization committed to houses for wounded troops. So he started his own nonprofit.

The group has completed 37 homes in 27 states.

Next year, the goal is to build 35 houses, says Thomas.

Just because an amputee is able to walk on prosthetics doesn't mean they don't and won't need more help, Thomas says.

"I met a veteran whose leg was amputated but the bone continues to want to grow itself. His bones grow off spurs. He's going in for his 86th surgery," she says.

On Dec. 16, 2005, U.S. Army Spc. Scott West volunteered for a run to Camp Anaconda, a nearby base, because he wanted "hot chow."

After all, it was only five miles away from his base.

And it was basically a straight shot.

"It didn't seem like a bad mission," he says.

But on the ride back, just after nightfall, his sergeant got orders to check an Iraqi police post.

West uses his finger to draw an invisible map on his tabletop, showing how close he was to his post before they shifted gears.

The night was eerie, he says.

"I said, 'This is weird. There are no vehicles on the road.' It was the time of day when everyone gets tense," he says.

Because U.S. convoys are watched by insurgents all the time, it's common protocol to speed up and slow down, says West, who was driving the first Humvee.

They approached the site of an explosion where one of his Army buddies had recently been killed. At the last second, they noticed the site had been filled with gravel -- a common indication insurgents covered up an IED, West says.

His sergeant screamed "veer left."

It was too late.

They were going to hit it.

It was only a question of where the bomb would explode.

His last thought was what it would be like to live with the guilt of having his Army buddies die.

"I turned the wheel to the right so I would get hurt," he says. "I didn't want to be the one who lives and lives with them being hurt. I didn't want to get hurt, but I didn't want anyone to get hurt. Period."

The bomb exploded under his seat and the blast sent the Humvee three feet into the air.

In the moments after the blast, West screamed that his legs were on the engine.

No one told the 20-year-old that his legs had been severed.

"I think that's what saved my life," West says.

His body was littered with shrapnel; he still has shrapnel in his arms and thighs. Both of his lungs collapsed and his femur was shattered in 16 places. He lost two inches from his inside thigh and had a slew of other injuries.

West was the only one injured.

The medic applied 11 tournaquets to keep West from bleeding to death.

The last thing West says he remembers is being loaded on a Black Hawk helicopter and asking if his friends could come with him.

No room, the medic said.

West flatlined and was resuscitated; he woke up days later in Walter Reed.

After 14 months of rehabilitation in Walter Reed, West returned home to Branson.

Once afraid he would never walk again, West vowed that once he made it out of the wheelchair, he would never rely on it. Even now, when he's in public and has to walk for long stretches, he uses a Segway instead of a chair.

Last year, West ran into a former classmate at Wal-Mart: Samantha. In high school, West thought she was cute. She thought he was cute. But they never talked, West says.

Eubanks says she remembered reading a story about West before she bumped into him.

"I read that story and I cried and I cried and I said I know this guy," Eubanks says.

When Samantha walked into his life, West was in a bad place. A plate in his leg had caused such a profound infection, he went through 15 gauze pads a day soaking up the discharge.

Shortly after they began dating, his leg was operated on again, and he spent about three months in the hospital.

"I took him to the airport and that was that," Eubanks says, adding she fell in love with him while he was away. The two would fall asleep on the phone together.

"I had like a $900 phone bill," West says with a laugh.

When he emerged, he also had a new pair of prosthetics, which are much better than his previous set, which wouldn't allow him to bend at the knee, Still, West walked with a significant limp and was embarrassed to be seen in public.

Samantha turned his life around, West says.

She got him to wear shorts for the first time.

She takes care of him, West says.

Eubanks loves his attitude.

"He is so open about his legs that it doesn't bother him at all. He's not discouraged to do anything. That is awesome. He tried knee-boarding this summer," she says.

They plan to be married Jan. 3 and honeymoon in the Caribbean.

And then focus on their future home.

A parcel of land at Saddlebrooke, an upscale community near Branson, has been selected for the house. Saddlebrooke is a planned community that was incorporated in 2001 as a city. It's located on 4,500 acres and has 30 miles of trails. The view is stunning and perfect for Samantha, who wants to be a photographer, says West.

West delivers pizza for Domino's Pizza but wants to become an architect.

Homes for Our Troops has secured a general contractor and architect, but still needs other professionals, volunteers and supplies.

Once that is secured, they have a three-day "marathon build brigade. It goes from foundation to rafters, roof, shingles, so the house is airtight to the weather. Then it takes six months to complete the house," Thomas says.

There is no specific date for the West build, but the house will be completed in 2009.

The home may not be up, but an American flag is flying in what will be West's front yard, says Thomas, whose voice cracked when she talked about the flag.

It will be a great place to raise a family, West says.

When asked what he would change if he could, West says "nothing."

Before he lost his legs, West was a partier, a drinker, living a life he says he didn't need to live.

"I am glad this happened to me. It's a blessing. It brought me back to where I need to be," West says.

 

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