Photo caption: Spc. Nicola Harvey (right) receives the Purple Heart during a ceremony held somewhere in Iraq Jan. 28.  She received the Purple Heart for wounds to her eyes, face and arms from the detonation of an improvised explosive device while serving in Iraq on Aug. 5, 2003.  Photo by Sgt. 1st Class Kevin E. Lewis, 253rd Transportation Company.

Story by Tech. Sgt. Mark Olsen

     Spc. Nicola Harvey, Atlantic City resident and truck driver with the 253rd Transportation Company stationed in Iraq, received the Purple Heart for wounds to her eyes, face and arms from the detonation of an improvised explosive device while serving in Iraq on Aug. 5, 2003.

     That is the short version of the story.

     This is the rest of the story.

     Spc. Nicola Harvey is a 28-year old Atlantic City resident who came to this country from Jamaica 10 years ago.  She joined the 253rd Transportation Company in August 2002.  She had just finished her first semester at Atlantic Cape Community College with the goal of transferring to a four-year college to get a degree in child psychology.  All this was put on hold when the 253rd was called up for Operation Iraqi Freedom.

     Her experiences in Iraq were the same as every other soldier pulling duty over there.   The heat, insects, dirt, sandstorms and doing without the basics that most of us take for granted, was offset by the fact that everyone there was experiencing the same thing.

On August 5, 2003, all that changed.

     The day started with a supply mission.  The route from the 253rd 's base at Camp Anaconda, Balad, to Mosul, takes a convoy six-hours to drive.  The mission had been staged the day before at the loading yard.  The mission began like any other: the drivers got up between 4 and 5 in the morning to beat the heat - the kind of heat that would make water boil in the convoy truck cabins.

     “There are two drivers per truck who switch during the mission,” said Spc. Harvey.   “Sgt. John Jones was my co-driver and he was driving at the time.”

     “We were at Baugi,” continued Spc. Harvey.  “This was considered a hostile city and there had been a lot of attacks in that area - we had to pass through a part of the city that looks like a flea market – very crowded.  Normally, when we go through that area we close up the convoy and are on alert for sniper fire.  The Iraqi drivers would try to cut in front of you, so you also had to be aware of suicide bombers.”

     “We were just coming out of the flea market area (and) we were at 25-foot intervals when an Iraqi pickup cut in front of us.  We don't know if he threw the bomb out, had set off the device or ran over it, but the truck blew up.  We were so close we went right through the explosion.”

     “The debris (the truck's windshield and windows) showered inside of the cab; the smoke and explosion looked like a twister when we drove through it.  Sgt. Jones told me to get down but it was too late and we both got cut up.”

     When an attack occurs, a convoy doesn't stop; it continues on until it can reach a safe area.  That's when the medics look after the wounded.

     “When the convoy stopped and the medics got to us, I didn't scream I just said, ‘I can't see,' I guess it was the shock of it all, so the medic flushed out my eyes which was pretty much all he could do, then we continued on.  The next day when we got back to Camp Anaconda the optometrist took a look at my eyes.  There were pieces of glass in my eyes and I had a cut across my cornea.  He said it would be the worse pain I would ever have.”

     For the next month the optometrist worked on Spc. Harvey's eyes.  Some of the debris could not be removed and will be with Spc. Harvey for the rest of her life.  

     Fast forward to Jan. 28.  Spc. Harvey is busy preparing to go on R&R back home.   “That day I was doing a lot of running around to get ready to come home (Jan 29),” said Spc. Harvey.

     “That day (Jan. 28), it was put out to the whole company that there would be a formation at 1330 (1:30 pm).  I was in formation and some of the officers from the battalion were there.      I remember hearing them say they were here to honor someone with an award.   When I heard my name I was totally stunned and the girl next to me nudged me and said ‘that's your name.'”

     “I had no idea that I would be receiving this award.  After they pinned it on me everyone came forward and there were hugs and stuff like that from the (members of my) company.”

     “And the next day I came home,” finished Spc. Harvey.