Welcome to a new feature in our newsletter. In some issues we will share a visit with someone we've met who we believe embodies the heart of nursing, someone who has made an impact on us and our faculty. To inaugurate this feature this issue, let us introduce you to a nurse manager named James Burk. Major James Burk.

Driving slowly in a single line of cars, you are suddenly waved to the side. You pull over obediently and stop. Sentries with uniforms so crisp they look waterproof motion the other cars through. They pass by with fluid-like ease while you sit and wait. You open your driver's side window and feel the dense morning fog. Unlike an early San Francisco fog that can chill you to the bone even in July, here the morning haze is hot, heavy, and thick, like a grey creme brule over pine trees so dense and tall you feel like you have been plucked up from Planet Earth and magically inserted into a Tolkien novel.

A sentry walks toward your car, which quickly knocks any fog out of your own head. His face is so devoid of emotion that a simple request could easily be perceived as a direct threat. Surprisingly, his voice, while authoritative, is polite. He asks you to step from your vehicle so that it can be "inspected." He smiles, but he is in charge and he knows it. You unhesitatingly step to the pavement - and hear other voices through the fog and pines, somewhere beyond the sentry: thunderous voices in a cadence that almost makes the ground tremble. That's when you become aware that you have arrived somewhere very serious, somewhere more serious than you had even imagined it could be.

You are at Fort Bragg Army Base, in North Carolina.

When, permission granted, you drive onto the base, a little voice in your head tells you not to stare. Try not to look like it's your first time here. But your curiosity has been swelling ever since you were first assigned to do an in-house workshop at Womack Army Medical Center. Your eyes can't stop darting from one scene to another. Calisthenics. Running. Marching - all at 6:00 a.m.! There are soldiers everywhere you look. It's like downtown Manhattan on Monday morning, only everyone here is wearing exercise gear and camos. It's rush hour - for war.

Womack Medical Center is easy to find, and so is Major James Burk. He is where he told you he would be, at the precise time he said he would be there. Right away you like him. Even if you didn't want to like him before you got here, you can't help yourself now. Yes, he has what some might call a commanding appearance, but it's not overbearing. He has confidence, but not arrogance; competence, but also concern. You know right away that if something goes wrong during the workshop, he will fix it promptly, without excuses. You stand there, a bit unsure about what to do - until Major Burk offers a firm handshake and a friendly welcome, then ushers you in to do what you are supposed to do: Teach triage.

All the nurses arrive exactly on time. There isn't a hair out of place in the entire room, a neatness that comes not from vanity but from discipline and respect. The nurses give you their complete attention, and nearly all express gratitude that for the next two days they will learn about triage from a SME (pronounced "smee") - a Subject Matter Expert. There is no other agenda, straight and simple. The workshop starts off like any other workshop you've done. They ask the same questions their civilian counterparts ask. They have the same concerns and comments. There are, as always, a few students who shine like polished diamonds when they bring your attention to this or that.

Still, it's not until after lunch the first day that you begin to relax. That's when it catches up to you that you could be anywhere that has an emergency department. There are patients who need treating, and there are professional men and women dedicating their lives to doing just that. There are no surprises. As Major Burk says to you, "Emergency nursing is the same in whatever environment we conduct it in, whether it's in a deployed austere environment or an ED in a civilian sector."

Emergency nursing is the same, true. Still, there are some differences. For one, pretend the rodeo is in town every Friday: Friday at Fort Bragg is Jumpday. After all, this is home to the 82nd Airborne. Yep. They still jump out of airplanes in dangerous and hostile environments, and they have to learn and practice somewhere - here. Fort Bragg is also the home of the Army's Special Forces. They don't play hard at Fort Bragg. They train to fight and win.

So do Major Burk and his nursing staff. "The ability to effectively triage a patient and/or scenario is mission essential for the success of any department," says Major Burk. "So the ability to think critically is fostered and groomed in every clinical setting for Army Nurses throughout their career."

The two days proceed like any other Triage training. Still, as the workshop goes on, you realize that, no, you haven't figured out Womack Army Medical Center. There is something special going on here, something beyond the facts that the nurses are soldiers and the patients jump out of airplanes. There is some extra form of unity, some purpose that you can't quite put your finger on. It's incredible to watch - you can almost touch it - but difficult to describe.

What is it? For a while, you think it's the fact that the staff here believe a patient's family is just as important as the patient. There are no soldiers separate from the ones who care for them. Major Burk puts it this way: "We are very thankful for the opportunity that the Army has given us to be a part of something that is larger than us, and it certainly is an honor for us to care for soldiers and their families every day."

You turn to him as he says this and notice that he is not just smiling - he is beaming. Beaming! Surely something more than the opportunity to care for families along with soldiers is making him feel this way?

It's not until after the training is over and you're halfway through the long ride home that you finally get it, that at last you understand. Major Burk and his soldiers really do believe it's an honor to serve. He and his soldiers truly do feel grateful for the opportunity to give to us, and to our Country.

At that point, you realize that this is one training course you will never forget. More important, you realize that, these last few days, the person who has been truly honored by the chance to serve - is yourself.