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Photo by Associated Press
Soldiers receiving training at the Centennial Club at Biggs Airfield in El Paso, Texas, engage in a moment of silence at 12:34 p.m. Friday in memory of those killed Thursday at Fort Hood, Texas. |
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FORT HOOD, Texas -- Pfc. Marquest Smith, on his way to Afghanistan in January, was completing routine paperwork about a bee-sting allergy when the sounds erupted.A loud, popping noise. Moans. The sudden, urgent shout of "Gun!" Smith poked his head over the cubicle's partition and saw an extraordinary sight: An Army officer with two guns, firing into the crowded room. The 21-year-old Fort Worth native quickly grabbed the civilian worker who'd been helping with his paperwork and forced her under the desk. He lay low for several minutes, waiting for the shooter to run out of ammunition and wishing he, too, had a gun. After the shooter stopped to reload, Smith made a run for it. Pushing two other soldiers in front of him, he made it out of the Soldier Readiness Processing center -- only to plunge into the building twice more to help the wounded. Smith had survived the worst mass shooting on an American military base, a rampage that left 13 dead and 30 wounded, including the alleged shooter, Army psychiatrist Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan. It could have been much worse, but for the heroics of Smith and others -- like the 19-year-old private who ignored her own wounds, and the diminutive civilian police officer who single-handedly took down Hasan. Home of the 1st Cavalry and 1st Army Division West, Fort Hood has seen more than its share of deployments and casualties in the past eight years. As a psychiatrist, Hasan, 39, had listened to soldiers' tales of horror. Now, the American-born Muslim was facing imminent deployment to Afghanistan. At the processing center on the southern edge of the 100,000-acre base, soldiers returning from overseas mingled with colleagues filling out forms and undergoing medical tests in preparation for deployment. Around 1:30 p.m., witnesses say a man later identified as Hasan jumped up on a desk and shouted the words "Allahu Akbar!" -- Arabic for "God is great!" He was armed with two pistols, one a semi-automatic capable of firing up to 20 rounds without reloading. Packed into cubicles with 5-foot-high dividers, the 300 unarmed soldiers were sitting ducks. Those who weren't hit by direct fire were struck by rounds ricocheting off the desks and tile floor. When he decided that Hasan wasn't close to being out of ammo, Smith made a dash for the door. He'd made it outside when he heard cries from within. "I don't want to die." "This really hurts." "Help me get out of here." Smith rushed back inside and found two wounded. He grabbed them by their collars and dragged them outside. His second time through the door, he ran into the shooter, whose back was to him. Smith turned and fled, bullets whizzing by his head and hitting the walls as he rushed outside. Around this time, Fort Hood Police Sgt. Kimberly Munley got the call of "shots fired." The SRP isn't on Munley's beat; she was in the area because her vehicle was in the shop. Munley, 34, was on the scene within three minutes. Just over 5 feet tall, Munley is an advanced firearms instructor and civilian member of Fort Hood's special reaction team. She had trained on "active shooter" scenarios after the April 2007 mass shooting at Virginia Tech University. She didn't wait for backup. As she approached the squat, rectangular building, a soldier emerged from a door with a gunman in pursuit. The officer fired, and the uniformed shooter wheeled and charged. Munley was hit at least three times in the exchange -- twice through the left leg and once in her right wrist. Hasan was hit four times. Hasan, hooked up to a ventilator, was moved Friday to a military hospital in San Antonio. The woman who stopped him, Munley, awaited surgery Friday to remove the bullets from her leg. Her husband was flying in from Fort Bragg, N.C.
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