Soldier lost sight but not perspective

by Iuliana Petre

 

On the evening of Veterans Day in 2004, and one day before his birthday, 1st Lt. Timothy Hornik was shot in the head by a sniper.

Firing almost invisibly from about 300 meters away, the sniper, perched on the second floor of a nearby building, was popping off rounds almost undetected.

No one saw a muzzle flash and barely anyone heard the shots as they were fired consecutively.  A soldier on a nearby security team was shot first.

Hornik popped his head out of his Bradley's turret and scanned the area with binoculars.

Then a shot rang out.

Hornik collapsed in his vehicle.

He now lives each day with the constant reminder of what befell him nearly four years ago.

The bullet that entered through his left temple and exited through his right eye, left him with permanent scars and damage.  He has no vision in his left eye nor can he focus it.  "It's like a shutter lens that can't move," Hornik said.

He can't see in low light, and has trouble in bright light.  Sweat that gets in his eye is highly irritating.

The vision in his right eye was corrected to 20/50, and he wears a contact lens and uses a magnifier to read.

He no longer drives a car, and his wife takes him to work every day.

And yet, he is extremely positive, upbeat and optimistic.

He doesn't put down the Iraqi people, doesn't speak badly of the sniper who shot him, doesn't wallow in misery, and smiles constantly.

Simply, he is happy to be here.

He appreciates the Iraqi people's taste in art and architecture and says the mosque near where he was shot, "has to be the second prettiest one in the Baghdad area."

The sniper who shot him was just doing his job, he said.

As for that round that penetrated between the end of his helmet and the start of his protective eye glasses, "two millimeters in any direction and I'd have a different life right now."

"Life is only as hard as you want it to be," Hornik said.

He takes responsibility for what happened that day, suggesting that he shouldn't have poked his head out of the turret.

"I've come to terms with it," he said, and doesn't deny going through a period of self pity.  "I've gone through all seven stages of loss, you can't bypass any of them (if you expect to recover)."

He also hasn't given up on the Army.

Now a captain, he has worked as the operations officer for the Operational Test Command on West Fort Hood for three years and was recently accepted into a Master's program at Kansas State University where he will work toward a degree in clinical social work.

He wants to stay in the service for 20 years and work with wounded soldiers and veterans who have endured similar situations.


Source:  Killeen Daily Herald, June 9, 2008

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