The Toughest Woman I Know

She might be the toughest human I know, actually.

Melissa Roy (now Chuongvan-Roy) is the toughest woman I know. That’s a bold statement since I have a tough mom and spouse. It’s true, though. Melissa is the toughest woman I know and maybe even the toughest human I know. By looking at her, you would probably dismiss her. She is diminutive, quiet, and generally reserved but once you get to know her a bit, you’ll find that she’s extremely kind, focused, and seemingly unstoppable. Why do I say this? I’m glad you asked.

I’ve known her for twenty years and in that time, she’s deployed to combat multiple times, been blown up twice, her house burned down, and she lost her husband tragically. After all these crippling events, she suited back up and kept going. This once West Point graduate and Army Officer is now a ER doctor. The amount of grit needed to go through all that and come out as a doctor with a big grin on her face is something I don’t possess. There is one event that I remember that defines her toughness, in particular.

Melissa is a rose in between two thorns. Jeff Chuongvan-Roy (her new hubby) is on the left, Melissa, and me on the right.

Melissa and I were in the same brigade in Iraq circa 2005-2006. I was in a Cavalry unit and she was medical services. I had been an adopted brother for a few years by then. I was protective of her and I found out one day that she didn’t need any protection.

Her medical group were conducting a medical outreach program in the vicinity of our base, focusing on women’s health. During their mission, a report came over the brigade radio channel that a sniper was active in the area. The medical contingent quickly wrapped up their services and began moving out. She was fourth in a column, or convoy, of five high mobility mutli-wheeled vehicles (HMMWV or Hummer for short). As they egressed the high threat area, the second hummer turned into a fireball and dust, an improvised explosive device (IED) exploded right underneath it.

Many people, including me, would panic or freak out (maybe I wouldn’t but I feel like I would fold). In fact, I was in the area serving as a roving quick reaction force (QRF). I heard the initial report of a catastrophic hit on a friendly vehicle and responded immediately. I was freaking out the whole way there. You know who wasn’t freaking out? Melissa.

Soon after the initial report went up, her convoy was engaged by enemy fighters. She immediately directed her machine gunner to return fire, she slid the armored window of her door open, fired her own rifle, and began giving a full report on the situation she and her convoy were in. I remember thinking to myself at the time that she was in dire straights and needed saving.

Unwilling to stop or give in, or even say, “That’s good enough”, Melissa gave a set of instructions to her gunner to keep firing and she ran from her truck to the damaged vehicle. She assisted her PA in giving medical aid to four critically wounded soldiers and civilians. So not only did she engage the enemy, give a full report calmly and quickly, she also helped save soldiers’ lives.

Before we even got to the scene, I heard an air medevac request come over the radio. You know what I didn’t hear in the background. Gunfire.

She doesn’t need any help. She’s got it, I remember thinking.

Another QRF arrived at the location and reported the area was secure. We were ordered to disengage.

Back at base, I remember convincing my friend in the intelligence section to let me read the after action report of the ambush. That’s when I found out about the details of the ambush. I also found out that was the second IED attack she had been in. The first attack blew the front of her truck off.

Later on, I saw her once she had a chance to get cleaned up and take a breather. She looked grim and subdued but not scared or freaked out. The next day, what did she do? She went back to work.

Melissa is the toughest woman I know.

Years later, she wrote a piece for the New York Times, yeah, she’s big time, and that ambush was referenced in the article.

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/30/magazine/ptsd-combat-veterans.html

She also wrote a poem about the aftermath. She was gracious enough to send it to me.