The floodwaters were rising at an alarming rate, far faster than anyone had anticipated. Streets once lined with curbs were now completely submerged, leaving cars stranded in murky rivers. People waded through waist-deep water, clinging to whatever they could find to stay afloat. I was aboard my uncle’s fishing boat, helping rescue those trapped by the flood, when I saw him—a soldier in full camouflage, trudging through the water with a woman clinging to his shoulder and a tiny baby in his arms. The baby was wrapped in a soaked pink blanket, eerily still as it stared up at the gray sky.
The mother’s face was streaked with rain and tears, her anxiety palpable. The soldier was determined, his eyes locked on the boat as he moved through the water, which was nearly up to his chest. Without hesitation, I steered the boat toward them. My cousin Rowan helped the soldier load the baby onto the boat, wrapping her in a dry jacket. The mother scrambled aboard, trembling from the cold, and the soldier collapsed into the boat, breathing heavily but silently.
I wanted to ask his name, but before I could, he scanned the water and muttered, “There’s more people.” Without another word, he got back to his feet, ready to wade back into the flood.
A Soldier’s Relentless Drive to Save Lives
I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of admiration for the soldier. Despite the exhaustion written all over his face, there was no hesitation in his actions. He was driven by something far greater than fatigue—he was driven by duty. “You sure, man?” I asked, trying to make sure he was okay.
He looked at me, his eyes intense yet tired, and simply nodded. Without another word, he waded back into the flood, disappearing into the storm. I watched, my heart pounding, unsure if he would return. My uncle, Travis, kept the boat running, while Rowan comforted the mother, who was still worrying about her baby. “Is the baby okay?” I asked the mother gently, my concern growing.
The mother’s response was shaky: “She hasn’t cried once, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.” Rowan offered her his sweatshirt for warmth and assured her that they’d reach the community shelter soon. I tried to keep my focus on the task at hand, knowing there were still many more people out there in need of help.
The Soldier Returns with More People
After a few minutes, I spotted the soldier again, now guiding an elderly man in a wheelchair and two young children. The woman, presumably their mother, was struggling to push the wheelchair through the rising floodwaters. The soldier, without hesitation, kept one hand on the wheelchair and another around the shoulders of one of the children. He waded through the water, every step a battle against the current, but never faltering.
“Swing us around, Uncle Travis!” I called out, signaling for the boat to approach. The soldier’s determination didn’t waver, and we quickly helped the family into the boat. The old man was shaky, the woman and children were shivering, and the soldier had a look of quiet resolve as he helped them aboard.
“Do you have room?” the soldier asked, and I checked the boat’s capacity. We were nearly at the limit, but I knew there was no choice. We had to take them all. “Always,” I said. “Hop on.”
The soldier, however, wasn’t done yet. He informed us that more people were stranded down the block. “There’s a big truck stuck on the corner, and some people are sheltering upstairs. The water’s rising fast—they need help.”
I knew we couldn’t waste time. “I’ll go with you,” I offered. “Rowan can help Uncle Travis get these folks to safety.” My uncle gave me a cautious look, but I was resolute. I couldn’t just sit by.
A Dangerous Mission to Save More
With a nod from the soldier, we set off. My uncle’s boat headed toward the shelter with the group we had just rescued, and the soldier and I waded deeper into the floodwaters, the water rising around our hips. The current was stronger than I expected, and debris—like soccer balls and plastic dolls—floated by, reminders of the chaos that had been unleashed.
We walked in silence for a while, each of us focused on the task ahead. The soldier eventually introduced himself as Brandt, a U.S. Army member, and we exchanged brief details about our families. Brandt, though clearly exhausted, remained focused on the mission. “Let’s hope we can save a few more lives,” he said quietly.
When we reached the truck that had been abandoned, Brandt took charge, his eyes scanning the area for anyone else in need of help. We quickly found the man on the truck’s roof, waving desperately for help. “There’s a family in the upstairs apartment!” he yelled. “They said the water’s coming in, and they’ve got a baby only six months old!”
Brandt was immediately alert. The water was already nearing the second-story windows, and we needed to move quickly. We found an external staircase leading to the apartment, but several of the steps were already submerged. Together, we carefully made our way up, the water rising with each moment.
A Final Rescue and Return to Safety
Inside the apartment, the situation was just as dire as we had feared. The living room was flooded ankle-deep, and a woman stood clutching a bundle of blankets, her face filled with panic. Her daughter, a teenager, was struggling to carry a heavy suitcase. The mother explained that the baby was only six months old and that the water had come in so fast that she couldn’t protect her from the flood.
Brandt checked the baby’s pulse and temperature, his training evident in his quick, calm movements. “She’s okay for now, but we’ve got to go,” he said, his voice gentle but urgent. The family had one suitcase with essential medical supplies, and Brandt lifted it, ignoring the rising water around him.
We carefully led the mother and daughter out of the apartment and down the stairs. The man on the truck roof reached down to steady them, offering a reassuring smile when he saw the baby was safe. However, we still needed to get them to the shelter, and our boat was out delivering other people.
Just as I was beginning to feel anxious, I heard the sputter of an engine in the distance. My uncle’s boat, with Rowan at the helm, appeared through the rain and the mist. I waved frantically, relief flooding over me. The family was loaded onto the boat first, and we helped the others in as well.
As the boat pulled away, I glanced at Brandt. His work wasn’t finished, but he had made sure this family was safe—just as he had done for countless others throughout the day. His quiet resilience was a reminder that sometimes the most heroic acts are those done without fanfare, just for the sake of others.
