ORLANDO, Fla. -- Daniel Crane isn't satisfied with an Invictus Games bronze medal.
The Texan doesn't spend long hours in the gym to win bronze. He doesn't dream of winning bronze. He's not going to settle for winning bronze.
Like any competitor, he has set his goal higher than third place. But the retired Air Force staff sergeant and security forces member wouldn't be content with winning a gold medal, either.
Crane wants to save lives.
"Even an inch to the left, and it would've gotten my vital organs. But right away, I realized I was going to bleed out in a minute or two," Crane says.
Crane was serving on Guam in 2012 when a nationalist, whom he had never met, fired a shotgun at his car as he prepared to drive home after visiting his best friend, Robert Fitzpatrick. The blast hit his right arm and severed the brachial artery, the primary supplier of blood to the arm. From his first-aid training, Crane knew he had little time to seek help. As his body went into shock, he tried to get back to Fitzpatrick's house but collapsed at the outside gate while calling for help.
Fortunately, Fitzpatrick heard Crane's shouts and responded immediately by using a dog leash to apply a tourniquet to the injured arm. He then applied pressure, elevated the wound and pulled his friend through the terrifying wait for an ambulance.
"He kept me awake because I wanted to fall asleep," Crane says. "I just kept telling him, 'This is too painful. Just let me go to sleep, man.' He wouldn't let me. We were already best friends, but that solidified it. He saved my life. Everything up to that point, I thought I was going to die."
Fast forward to the Invictus Games 2016, an elite international sports competition for wounded, injured and ill military personnel and veterans, where he competed in archery and indoor rowing.
He was disappointed not to medal in archery, his primary sport, but he won bronze as a rookie in one of the rowing events. But Crane points out that the power of Invictus lies in neither the medals nor the celebration of military personnel. Far more important are the days, months and years of training that create a healthy lifestyle and restore mental health and a sense of purpose. That can't be overstated at a time when the suicide rate among veterans outpaces the rate among the civilian population by a wide margin.
"We're going to continue being strong," Crane says of the nearly 500 athletes from 14 countries who competed in Orlando this week. "We're going to continue fighting and beating the odds. We're going to continue being able to do sports better than you or the next person or the competition."
Many of those athletes say Invictus also creates a strong sense of community and a network of support, among both U.S. and international competitors, where the athletes can be treated strictly as equals and not isolated or handled with kid gloves because of their disabilities.
"It kinda gives you hope for the whole world, being that we can all come together and compete like this in games," U.S. competitor and Air Force Staff Sgt. August O'Niell said. "All of our wounded warriors are here. It's actually very inspiring to see everybody on a stage like this."
U.S. Invictus Games archery coach Jeff Matuszak has seen a dramatic change in Crane and many other veterans as they grow into a lifestyle of athletic training and competition while working to grow out of the darkest experience of their lives. Invariably, they become mentors to those newer to the wounded warrior ranks and invigorate many newer competitors with hope and determination.
"[It's inspiring] just to be around these guys and see what they do and their transformation over one or two years -- they don't quit," Matuszak says. "Nothing gets in their way."
Indeed, Crane says his focus has shifted since competing in the inaugural Invictus Games two years ago in London. Now he wants to be one of those competitors who inspires others to not just live, but live to the fullest. It's a way of returning to the work of protecting people and saving lives that he began as a security forces airman.
"Before, I was just looking at myself strictly as an athlete," Crane says. "Now I'm looking at myself as a coach or a sports mentor. I've been there and gone through it in their shoes. I'm still going through it. Maybe I can be that one person to tell them something or show them something or teach them something that changes their lives."
