Lance Cpl. Kyle Francis is recovering after suffering three bullet wounds in Afghanistan.
View full sizeU.S. Marine Lance Cpl. Kyle Francis is recovering at home in Clay after suffering three bullet wounds in his left leg and right hand May 13 in Afghanistan. The smile on his face and the pride in the banner are good signs of the spirit with which he's approaching his future -- what he calls his "second chance."On a perfect summer day, Kyle Francis sat in a rocking chair on his parents’ front porch in Clay and talked about the worst part of having visible war wounds: People asking him what happened.
It’s hard to miss the two metal rings that hold six titanium pins, and his leg, in place. They’re too big to fit pants over, and scars mark the bullets’ entry and exit points — and where surgeons operated, trying to save his leg and his ability to walk.
Sometimes people ask and wait for an explanation, he said. Sometimes, they’ll offer up their own explanation — “Did you fall?” — and Francis will nod agreeably.
It’s not that he doesn’t want people to know. It’s the repetition.
He said if he “could sit everyone in a group,” he’d explain it all at once, but instead, “between aisle seven and aisle nine at Wal-Mart, I’ve got to explain it three times.”
For the record, Marine Lance Cpl. Kyle Francis, 22, was with eight members of his unit when they were ambushed by 13 Taliban fighters in Marjah in Afghanistan’s Helmand Province. Francis was hit twice in the left leg, took another step and fell, but stayed in the fight.
”I scooted on my butt” to the first-aid kit, he said, and that’s when a bullet ripped through his right hand. “Then I just laid on my stomach, looked through my hand and waited for it to be over.”
That was eight weeks, about 7,400 miles and 13 surgeries ago. After nearly a month at Bethesda Naval Hospital in Maryland, where he received the Purple Heart, Francis was moved to the Veterans Administration Hospital in Syracuse in mid-June.
Three weeks ago, he made it home to Clay, where neighbors still stop to say hello, thank Francis for his service and let him know they’re proud of him.
He accepts the thanks quietly, in a voice surprisingly soft for a man who says he likes confrontation and enjoyed the rush of battle.
“Confrontation excites me,” he said. “That’s why I signed up to be infantry.”
When his unit learned it would be on the sharp edge of U.S. efforts to push back the Taliban in Afghanistan, some fellow Marines worried and some broke down, he said, but Francis was exhilarated.
“No one’s been in Marjah and succeeded,” he said. “I couldn’t wait for that rush to come along.”
Battle wasn’t exactly like training, he said. In camp there were dry runs and critiques. In Afghanistan, “you don’t knock on somebody’s door and say ‘Now we’re going to practice, then be back for real in 15 minutes.’”
In camp he was taught to lie prone or drop to one knee in battle, but he said he always fought standing up because he could see more standing. Sometimes, such as when he was in “poppy fields up to my chest,” there was no other way.
He learned to look for better angles. He learned that the enemy was quick, able to get in and out.
He learned that bullets sound different depending on how close they are. Bullets that make whipping sounds aren’t too close. When they crack, “like a thick twig snapping,” they are.
“The next one could be for you,” he said, adding that on May 13, “I kept hearing the crack, crack, crack.”
After initially being bandaged up, Francis tried to stay in the fight. Not realizing how serious his wounds were, he tried to tear off his cast before he was flown out of Afghanistan.
“I was begging for them to let me stay,” he said.
He’s in contact with members of his unit. They call when they get the chance.
“It’s still pretty hectic,” he said.
Three more members of his Marine company have been wounded. A good friend got shot in the hand.
As his unit’s designated marksman, Francis chafes at not being able to do anything about what’s happening in Afghanistan.
“I wish I was still over there,” he said.
He’s planning to visit his fellow Marines when they return to North Carolina later this summer. There are more surgeries coming up as doctors plan to transplant tendons from the back of his leg to the front.
He’s hoping to earn an associate’s degree online and then transfer to a four-year college and study behavioral psychology.
“I got shot three times,” Francis said. “I have to tell you, it makes you grow up.”
Things that mattered before, don’t anymore. Asked what matters now, Francis points to his family — his mother Lisa Williams, stepfather Lamar Williams, sister Nia Williams and brother Isaiah Williams — and his girlfriend Camille Bufano, as they sit nearby. Another brother, Keenan Williams, was away in Australia on a student exchange.
“I’ve got a steady focus on my future, job and family,” he said. “Now I’ve got my second chance.”
Contact Charles McChesney at cmcchesney@syracuse.com.