Wounded warrior brings message to Keesler Published June 17, 2010 By Susan Griggs 81st Training Wing Public Affairs KEESLER AIR FORCE BASE, Miss. -- More than 4½ years and 120 surgeries after an explosion in Afghanistan burned more than 80 percent of his body, Tech. Sgt. Israel Del Toro brought his story of determination, commitment and hope to Team Keesler June 10. Beating the odds Sergeant Del Toro spent three months in a coma after injuries he sustained in Afghanistan and was given less than a 20 percent chance of survival. He beat those odds after months of surgeries, skin grafts, grueling physical therapy and rehabilitation. After fighting for more than four years to remain in the Air Force, he reenlisted four months ago and now serves as a tactical air control party instructor and recruiter at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas. Raised in Chicago, Sergeant Del Toro recalled that he was 22 when a TV commercial, a pretty recruiter and advice from friends influenced him to join the Air Force He was going to be a pararescue jumper, but a tactical air control party recruiter steered him to that career. TACP operators control the air power in support of the ground forces commander. Doing 'cool stuff' "Dropping bombs, jumping out of planes, cool stuff like that ... that was right up my alley," Sergeant Del Toro recalled. After technical training at Hurlburt Field, Fla., he was one of the three top graduates in his class and was chosen to go to jump school and survival school. He was at his first base, Pope AFB, N.C., for six years, becoming a jump master and completing Army air assault training. He made senior airman below the zone and qualified as a joint terminal attack controller in less than three years. His first deployment was to Bosnia, where he served with special forces from Fort Bragg, N.C. He returned in June 2001. Getting the call "The 9/11attacks happened just a few months later and all my guys got the call," Sergeant Del Toro recalled. "Since I had just gotten back, a lot of the guys went before me. I was jealous -- I wanted to get out there to do my job. In our career field, if there's no war, you're just working on training, but I knew my time would come and in January 2003, I was in Iraq." Sergeant Del Toro was in Fallujah when he was called home for the funeral of one of the troops he had trained who was killed in Afghanistan. "Airman Lozano was our first TACP to be killed since Vietnam," he recalled. "A lot of us TACPs pride ourselves on being big, tough, showing no emotion, but when I had to bury that young troop, it was one of the toughest things I've ever had to do." After returning from deployment, he married and had a son. When he got orders to Osan Air Base, Korea, it was the first time he wasn't stationed with the Army. "My mentality toward the Air Force changed," he said. "I realized that everyone had an important job to do." Next stop for Sergeant Del Toro and his family was his dream assignment in Vicenza, Italy. But he soon learned that he'd be deploying in six months for eight months to a year. He stalled about telling his wife, Carmen. "She was upset and wanted me to promise that I'd get out of the Air Force when I returned so I could be a dad to our son," he commented. Fighting in Afghanistan When he deployed to Afghanistan, he supported more than 20 missions before he was hurt. "When you're deployed out there with Army, Navy, Marines, you're teammates," he emphasized. "You take care of each other. We're all brothers -- we're all U.S. service members. Dec. 4, 2005, he was the joint terminal attack controller on a mission with Soldiers of the 2nd Battalion of the 503rd Infantry Regiment. The team was investigating intelligence that the Taliban, including a high-value target, was using a supply route in the nearby mountains. Driving back down the mountain, the lead vehicle in which Sergeant Del Toro was riding was crossing a creek when it was hit by an improvised explosive device. "I felt an intense heat blast on my left side," he remembered. "I thought, 'Holy crap! I just got hit!' Life flashes by "People talk about your life passing in front of you ... all these things started running through my head ... we're supposed to have a church wedding, we're supposed to go to Greece, we're supposed to travel, I'm supposed to teach my little boy to play ball ... then something just clicked and I had to get out of that truck." On fire from head to toe, he knew the creek was behind him, but the flames overtook him and he collapsed. "I was thinking I'll never see my wife again -- I'll never see my son again -- I broke my promise that I was always going to come home," he said. "My LT said, 'DT, you're not going to die here.' He threw some dirt on the flames, helped me up and we both jumped into the creek. "The sound I heard was like when you put a big hot skillet into cold water," he remembered. "It's weird -- I really didn't feel anything. Maybe my adrenaline was just all up. I didn't feel pain until my body had time to relax. When I was laying there having trouble breathing, that's when it really hurt. "I knew I still had a job to do," he continued. "I knew my guys needed close air support. My medic was trying to take care of me and I told him, 'Leave me alone ... my guys need my help.' Our radios were destroyed; our backup radios were destroyed." Sergeant Del Toro emphasized the importance of the "thick and boring" standard operating instructions members receive when they deploy. Job still to do "There's a lot of useful info in there," he pointed out. "Thank God I had a great NCO that made me read them and quizzed me. Because I had a boss that made me learn that stuff, I knew what to do. I told a private, 'Get on this frequency, say these words, to get CAS in here.'" It took about 20 minutes for help to arrive, and by that time, Sergeant Del Toro said his body was shutting down. "All the guys know if you fall asleep out there, you might not wake up again," he explained. "They knew I lost my dad when I was a kid and I didn't want that to happen to my son. The medic kept saying, 'You've got to stay awake, you've got to fight for your boy.' It worked ... it kept me up." When the medevac came, Sergeant Del Toro said, "I remember the flight, I remember landing, I remember the doc saying it was going to be OK. That was in December of '05 -- I woke up in March of '06. For four months I had no idea what happened." He arrived at Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio Dec. 7. His wife was told he only had a 15 to 20 percent of survival, he'd probably never walk again, and if he survived, he'd probably be on a respirator the rest of his life. "When I was in the hospital, I was supposed to die three times, and all three times, my Air Force family was there for my wife," Sergeant Del Toro said. "My wife told them, 'Trust me -- my husband is going to survive. He's too damn stubborn to die.'" When Sergeant Del Toro awoke, he thought he was still in Afghanistan. The medical team told him where he was and what his prognosis was. Scarred lungs, atrophied muscles "I couldn't talk because I had a (tracheotomy) and I couldn't move because all my muscles had atrophied," he noted. "I went from 200 pounds to 115, not even able to lift my arms. My lungs were like someone's who had smoked for 60 or 70 years -- my inhalation burns were worse than my other burns." Sergeant Del Toro said that learning how to walk again was one of the most painful things he's ever had to do. "Physical therapy was 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.," he said. "Being a burn patient, they had to stretch my skin out. My fingers were so hypersensitive that if you ran a feather across them, it felt like you were cutting me with knives." All through his therapy, Sergeant Del Toro said he never wished he had died until the first time he saw his disfigured face. "When you're severely burned, they hide the mirrors," he told the audience. "This isn't the face I woke up to -- this is after more than 120 surgeries. I had no lips, my eyelids were gone, my ears were gone, my nose was gone." Face unveiled One day as his wife and therapist helped him to the bathroom, Sergeant Del Toro slipped and the towel covering the mirror fell and he saw his face for the first time. "I went down -- I said I should have died,'" he recalled. "I cried, 'Why did you let me live? You should have pulled the plug.' It wasn't vanity -- if I thought I looked like a monster, what was my 3-year-old going to think? No parent would want their child to see something like that. "I was bawling my head off, my wife was crying and my therapist, my guardian angel, said, "DT, don't quit. You don't know how many people you've inspired. "I knew I didn't want my son to ask why his dad was just sitting in a chair looking out the window hating life," he stressed. The first time Sergeant Del Toro saw his son, little Israel Jr. started running toward him, stopped, looked and ran up to give him a hug. "It was the greatest feeling I ever had," he admitted. "My wife said, 'Don't hurt your dad,' and I said, 'Shut up, woman, let my boy hug me!' "Don't get me wrong -- I'm never going to say I haven't had a bad day," he remarked. "One day I was in my room feeling sorry for myself, and there was this guy, Kevin, in a wheelchair who had lost both of his legs and his left arm, his fiancée had left him and he had no family. He was always out in the hallway, laughing with the nurses. If that dude can do it, so much worse off than I am, I can do it too. "I still go back to visit and tell those guys, 'I've been there -- I know what you're going through; you can do it,'" he added. His wife was once determined that he should leave the military, but now she understands why he loves the Air Force. Teammates were there "Every day I was in the hospital, my teammates were there ... from Korea, Alaska, Europe, Japan, Italy, from all parts of the country," Sergeant Del Toro pointed out. "If you ask my wife now, 'Will you ever ask DT to get out?' she'll tell you, 'Never again.'" Although his life and his career have changed dramatically since he was injured, it's obvious that Sergeant Del Toro still has a warrior's heart and spirit. "I don't type as fast as I used to," he said. "I may not be able to do all the PT I want to do. I still work out and I have prosthetics to help me with some things. I still live an active life. I go out, I hang out with my friends, I play sports, I run 5Ks, I do charity work." After a four-year fight to remain in the Air Force, Sergeant Del Toro explained, "As an NCO, I miss my team -- I miss being on the operations side. People ask me if I'd do it again and I say, "Hell yes!' "My mind is still there -- I can be an instructor and a recruiter. I'm sure some people wonder if I'm the first person the Air Force wants recruits to see. You can look at me and see the danger that's in my career field. "If an Airman looks me straight in the eye and says, 'Sergeant, I was to be a TACP,' that's the Airman I want. When the s--t hits the fan, he's not going to freak out -- he'll know what he's going into." Sergeant Del Toro considers service members with combat injuries to be his teammates now. "I fight for them -- if I see something messed up, I'll bring it up," he stressed. "The Air Force claims it's the best at taking care of its troops and it's true. I've pretty much been the prototype for the Air Force's policies on its wounded members. I've been out there fighting for change. I may not see the benefits, but as an NCO, my guys behind me will. "The Air Force is a family -- we take care of our own. That's what a good wingman does." WHIRLWIND VISIT While at Keesler, Tech. Sgt. Israel Del Toro met with Brig. Gen. Ian Dickinson, 81st Training Wing commander. Then he spoke to two audiences of nonprior service students, a combat controller class, Airman Leadership School and Mathies NCO Academy students and 81st Medical Group personnel. NCO Academy Class 10-5 presented Sergeant Del Toro $500 for the Air Force Wounded Warrior Program.