All that Sgt. Shane Scherer remembers about May 30, 2009, is that he was in Afghanistan, that he was on his hands and knees, and that his head was cupped in someone's hands.

The next thing he remembers is waking up in the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Md., and he was very thirsty.

"When I woke up the first thing I thought was that I hoped to God that there was a surgery to fix my head," said Scherer, who serves in the Army as a Cavalry scout and is now assigned to the Warrior Transition Battalion at Joint Base Lewis-McChord. "I could not speak. I could not swallow.  I could not walk.  And I really wanted a glass of water."

Shortly after he awakened, he was told that he had sustained injuries in a bomb blast that included a severed artery, severe damage to his right hand, and a severe traumatic brain injury.

In the meantime, Jacqueline Bennett, now his wife, was at her going away party when she received word about Scherer, who was her fiancé at the time. He was scheduled to return to the United States 12 days later, and she had planned to meet him at Fort Hood. Instead she made a stop in Texas to set up an apartment and then headed to Bethesda.

"I did not want him to wake up and wonder why I had not followed through with our plans," she said. "I had no idea how serious his injuries were.  I didn't know if he still had a face.  That was a question I asked.  They said they  didn't know."

However, when she arrived at Bethesda she saw that beneath the bandages he did indeed have a face.  But it didn't matter; she was there for the duration.

"A general told me one day that it is times like these that wives and fiancés decide whether to leave or stick with it," she said. "I have learned since then that most leave. I stayed, and I would have even if he had not had a face."

From the moment she arrived, she was a source of great inspiration to Scherer. She helped him with menial tasks such as brushing his teeth and putting on his clothes.

"I was part of the process to help him learn how to talk, how to swallow and how to walk again," said Bennett who left her job as a social worker to be by her husband's side.  "I have learned to be flexible. This experience has made us closer."

Scherer concurred.  He was driven to get better.  A week after he awakened in Bethesda, he was talking.  Within three weeks he was finally allowed to have that coveted glass of water.

"I almost liked getting the water more than finding out that I could hear and talk," he quipped.  "Not having water was hard. My lips were chapped, and my throat was so sore. And up until that point they used those disgusting sponges that they wet my tongue with."

His recovery was so rapid that he was nicknamed "The Terminator" by his doctors.

"They would come in and tell me something would take about four weeks to heal, and a week later it would be healed," he said.

In June, he was transferred to VA Palo Alto Health Care System where he underwent rehabilitation. It went by quicker than he thought.  He attributed his quick recovery to his wife, family and friends.

"My wife played a major role in my healing so quickly," he said. "I could not have done it without her. My friends came from all over the place to see me. Someone was there on a daily basis.  I had this incredible support system, and it helped tremendously."

The lasting effects of the bomb blast will remain with the 27-year-old soldier.  He experiences awesome migraine headaches that may be permanent.  He has cognitive deficiencies that have all but wiped out his working memory.  He has delayed processing speed, permanent hearing loss, permanent damage to his right hand, and no feeling on the pads of his fingers on his left hand and the bottom of his left foot.

So what now? That's simple. He plans to marry Bennett in a formal ceremony in June.  They were married in a civil ceremony in November but want to have an official wedding with family and friends. Then he plans to earn a master's degree in public health administration.

"I have a TBI, which I like to describe as a hidden disability," he said. "There are stigmas that go along with that. I have learned a lot about not judging a book by its cover."