Recovery Shots

Nevins actually helped save his own life in the frantic seconds after the blast by sticking his hand in one of his leg wounds to put pressure on a blood-spurting artery he knew could cause him to bleed to death before medics arrived.

Nevins at Walter Reed learning how to swing with his second prosthetic leg.

Once he had been evacuated to a nearby hospital, there was no choice but to amputate, but doctors initially were able to save his mangled right leg. He had a badly dislocated ankle and scads of shrapnel wounds, but the ankle continued to pain him over the next few years. There were times he wondered if he might actually be better off without it. Last November the ankle developed a bone infection and resulted in what he describes as "an easy decision" to have a second amputation Jan. 23 at Walter Reed.

"I'd actually been making the decision for three years -- should it stay or should it go?" Nevins says. "It was absolutely the right decision. When I woke up from surgery, it was the first time I'd been pain-free in more than three years."

Within three weeks Nevins was fitted for a second prosthesis. Within two months he was back at Olney Golf Park on two prosthetic legs trying to swing a club under Jim Estes' watchful eye.

The previous spring, Estes had begun an eight-week golf clinic at Olney Park for patients at Walter Reed that served as the launch of the non-profit Salute to Military Golf Association. The SMGA, in conjunction with groups such as Disabled Sports USA, also was raising funds to secure reduced or free green fees and access to public and private facilties around the country, to fit wounded veterans with specialized clubs and to purchase state-of-the-art golf carts that would even enable injured players to swing from a seated position, if necessary.

Estes has taught the game to wounded soldiers with a wide variety of injuries, including a triple amputee. Another veteran, once a powerlifter before losing nearly half his frontal lobe, came to the clinic last year wearing a bicycle helmet to protect his swollen brain. "You name it, and we've seen it," says Estes, a 43-year-old Maryland native and former PGA Tour player. "We've had shrapnel injuries, spinal-cord injuries, brain injuries, neurological deficits so that their wrists, their arms, their fingers don't work properly. But we find a way to help them hit the ball. When they actually play, they get even better.

Estes instructs an injured veteran.

You'll see them get frustrated, but it's a positive frustration. A lot of the rehabilitation is from an emotional standpoint. And it gets them away from Walter Reed into a totally different environment, and that's a good thing, too."

Over the last two years the SMGA estimates it has worked with more than 300 injured soldiers around the country. Many, such as Nevins, have taken up the game as a life sport after they returned to civilian life. The PGA of America also has embraced Estes' efforts, offering financial support, running a public-service announcement featuring Estes during last year's PGA Championship and encouraging members around the country to become involved. Similar clinics have started for wounded veterans at military hospitals in San Antonio and San Diego, with more likely to come at other locations.

"Anything that can motivate these people to work again at developing skills is a potent rehabilitative tool," Barbara Romberg, a clinical psychologist in Washington who works with wounded veterans, told The Wall Street Journal last year. "The impact on their self-identity is profound. ? Golf has proven to be a very effective medium, and when they do achieve some level of mastery, that's powerful medicine. It opens the door."