PHILADELPHIA, Pa. – New Jersey Army National Guard Spc. Sanaa Drinks survived a drive-by shooting and credits her survival to the skills she learned while in U.S. Army Basic Combat Training.
Three years later, Drinks looks back on the night of the shooting as a defining moment. She remembers the interminable seconds as bullets whizzed past her just as clearly as the long road to recovery.
“Everything that happened to me is the reason why I joined,” Drinks said. “I joined to escape gun violence in the city, but I also joined to become a role model so that my community has someone to look up to, especially now.”
To her, the shooting would serve as proof of the U.S. Army’s ability to forge the tenacity needed to survive in armed conflict. She relied on that tenacity on the summer evening of her shooting.
For the first time since leaving for Initial Entry Training, Drinks faced an impasse, leaving the structured world of the training and beginning the task of reintegration back into civilian life. Drinks sought the company of her boyfriend and her best friend.
“I was still getting adjusted to being home. I was excited to see them,” Drinks said. “I had so much to talk about. I had just returned from basic, and at the time, I knew I had plans to switch to active duty.”
They spoke beneath an old portico, lit by fluorescent street lamps and the glow from the opaque windows of the nearby apartments. Hours had passed. It was 10 p.m., and few people were out.
“We spoke for a while,” she remembered. “In the midst of us talking, my boyfriend was looking around.” He was beginning to show signs of paranoia.
“When you’re from Philly, it's our instinct to watch our surroundings, but it was like he was watching them more than normal,” Drinks explained. “Something was off.”
All attempts at pointing out Drinks’ boyfriend's paranoia were met with superficial responses. He denied any reason for concern, though he seemed clearly overcome by caution.
“The longer we spoke, the more he began to look past me,” said Drinks.
The conversation ended abruptly as a figure approached them from a distance.
“My boyfriend was looking at this person as if we knew him,” Drinks recalled. “He came within three feet.”
Before they could react, the figure quickly unholstered a gun. Drinks and her boyfriend were shot. Her best friend fled to cover, unharmed as the scene erupted into chaos.
“Bullets were flying. Survival was all we knew in the moment,” Drinks remembers. “He was firing toward the left side of my body, so I turned to the right to move away from the gunfire. I fell as my boyfriend pushed me to get me out of harm’s way.”
A shot turned to shots, revealing that the assailant’s weapon had been modified with an extension.
“They call it a switch around these parts,” Drinks said.
The assailant fled, firing more shots as he ran. Drinks’ boyfriend was injured.
Hunched in the prone position, ducking as bullets whizzed past her, Drinks quickly assessed her wounds and realized that some of her intestines had been exposed.
“I held on to my stomach with my left hand, lightly pressing it to my wounds to control the blood leaking from my gut,” Drinks said. “I began to crawl slowly to cover with my right arm.”
Still firing as he fled, the assailant forced Drinks to low crawl to cover while her boyfriend was out of view. A sense of familiarity took hold in her.
“The NIC [Night Infiltration Course] left its impact,” Drinks recalled.
Drinks made it to cover and was beside her best friend, both in a state of panic. They called the police as the assailant fled the scene.
“I remember telling her, we aren’t gonna make it to my car,” Drinks recalled.
Mustering what little adrenaline she had left, Drinks stood, climbed the porch of her apartment, and waited for emergency medical services.
“Call the cops!” Drinks’ boyfriend shouted in panic.
Moments later, he lost consciousness. Drinks stayed on the porch, unable to move. She held her intestines, trying to cope with the fact that her boyfriend was unconscious, her guts had split and her best friend was beside herself.
“I had to remain calm, that’s what the drills always told us. If I didn’t, I knew for certain I was going to die right there,” Drinks said.
Taking every step she knew in staying awake, Drinks did all she could to retain a lucid headspace while waiting for the authorities.
“Every second felt like an hour,” Drinks said. “When they finally arrived, and the way they swept me up, it snapped me back to reality.”
Drinks was placed on a stretcher and moved into a police van. As her thoughts became lucid, the reality of her mortality became frighteningly apparent. Despite the brief nature of the ride, time passed at a surreal pace, and Drinks snapped in and out of focus.
Seconds became hours, hours became minutes; at this moment, life's constancy could find its end. Drinks and her boyfriend were transported to Lankenau Medical Center in northern Philadelphia.
“We got to the hospital, and they pulled me out onto the bed and started rushing me to the operating room. Once I got in, I told them, ‘My name is Sanaa Drinks, I’m 19 years old and I got shot,’ at least 10 times,” Drinks recalled. “They put me on the table and started cutting my clothes off. I kept repeating, ‘My name is Sanaa Drinks, I’m 19 years old and I got shot.’ The surgeon kept asking me this, to keep me awake.”
The doctors attempted to apply an inhalation anesthetic as they assessed her condition.
“I refused the mask. I turned to the nursing assistant and said, ‘I am in the Army. Can I go back to the Army?’” Drinks recalled. “Those were my last words before they put me under.”
Remembering the situation, Drinks couldn’t tell whether her reaction was because of fear of being discharged or the delirium that gripped the situation.
The surgery lasted five hours. During the operation, Drinks was in critical condition. Doctors removed parts of her intestine and kidney and performed a bowel resection. At one point during the operation, doctors were unsure whether she would live.
To the relief of Drinks and her family, she survived. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, died in the middle of the operation.
“The doctors said I was a fighter. My muscle mass and strength saved me,” Drinks said. “They could tell I was a Soldier. Obviously, I shouted it, but from what they saw in me, I don’t know how they knew. They told me they could tell I had joined.”
Drinks describes her recovery as difficult.
“I don’t remember much, but what scared me was seeing Soldiers in uniform praying over me. I was confused as to why so many people were there for me,” Drinks recalled. “It turns out I was shot four times in the leg. I had to learn how to walk again.”
By the time Drinks recovered, her doctors expressed surprise, believing that she wouldn't have survived. The task of reintegrating into uniformed service was complicated by the shooting.
“I feel like no one knows how to talk to me or how to act around me. They thought I was going to be discharged,” Drinks said. “It surprised everyone when I came back.”
U.S. Army Sgt. 1st Class Malika Moore, a Recruiting and Retention noncommissioned officer assigned to the Recruiting and Retention Battalion, New Jersey Army National Guard, recalls her commitment to seeing Drinks stay in the National Guard. She credited Drinks’ survival to the combination of her physical conditioning and mental resilience developed during Basic Combat Training.
“It took a long time for me to readjust. I knew that this was what I wanted to do; I didn’t care how long the process took,” Drinks said. “I am a Soldier, and no one is taking that away from me.”
The shooting caused Drinks’ career as a Soldier to come into question.
“I was briefing my leadership as well as making sure that Drinks was staying healthy, and keeping her on track,” Moore said.
Drinks had to attend Recruit Sustainment Program drills for several months while her recruiter and immediate leadership explored every avenue to keep her in uniform.
“The battalion fought to see her prosper. There was a lot of talk about her leaving, but I knew that discharge was not for her,” Moore said.
As time passed, Drinks’ determination only hardened. She said her story could serve as an example for others in similar situations, which motivated her. She had not come this far for it all to be wasted.
“I joined to escape gun violence in the city, but I also joined to become a role model so that my community has someone to look up to, especially now,” Drinks said. “If it weren’t for this, I wouldn’t be three years into the Army, giving back to the community that made me who I am. Three years later, I know that to be true.”