MIAMI — The trauma center's radio crackles an alert: A 34-year-old woman injured in an auto wreck is being brought in by helicopter. Parts of her scalp have been torn back, exposing her skull. Broken bones may be sticking out through the skin of her left leg.

Her injuries may help save the lives of U.S. soldiers in Iraq.

For two weeks, 28 Army medics, nurses, doctors and nurse anesthetists have been learning trauma medicine and teamwork under pressure at the Ryder Trauma Center at downtown Miami's Jackson Memorial Hospital, a place that often resembles a war zone because it sees such carnage.

Ryder is one of the busiest trauma centers in the nation, seeing an average of 11 trauma patients a day — about as many as the biggest military hospital in Iraq.

Jackson Memorial serves some of the city's most crime-ridden sections, and patients arriving at the trauma center have been stabbed, injured in grisly auto accidents, wounded in shootouts with high-powered assault weapons, or hurt in fights.

The Army sends 10 forward surgical teams a year through Ryder, which was selected six years ago because of the volume of bloodshed. It is the Army's only trauma training center. The Air Force has similar programs in Baltimore, St. Louis and Cincinnati; the Navy's trauma program is in Los Angeles.

This time, the professionals being trained are Ohio reservists with the Army's 848th Forward Surgical Team. The team leader is Col. Michael Oddi, a 59-year-old thoracic surgeon in Akron, Ohio.

On this particular day, Oddi and two medics, a nurse and a nurse anesthetist from his team make their way to the roof with other Ryder staff members to meet the helicopter.

Reservists ease the woman's stretcher onto a gurney. Her head and neck are immobilized in a brace. Her left arm is heavily bandaged, but both legs appear OK — the radio alert about a broken leg was inaccurate.

She is wheeled into an elevator, then into a trauma room. The reservists are identified by their color-coded caps: beige for the medics; maroon for the nurse; dark blue for the nurse anesthetist; and green for Oddi.

The reservists have been taught an Army teamwork system for treating multiple injuries simultaneously.

The medics stand near her feet, remove her sneakers, help keep her motionless and check her IV lines. The nurse anesthetist at her head monitors her breathing, checks her eyes and ears and asks for her date of birth. Oddi hovers by her side, assessing whether she has suffered any brain injuries through a series of questions Also at her side is the nurse, Capt. Brent Tuma, checking her vital signs, medications and lab results.

Tuma, in civilian life, is a trauma nurse in Cleveland. In the emergency room where he works, "usually when you get a trauma or a code scenario, you have 10 to 15 people in the room. People are screaming. It's controlled chaos," he said after returning to Ohio.

Under the Army's system, however, there are only a few people around the patient and there is no need to scream out for something to be done. Each team member has a list of tasks and does them.

"You trust your buddies. You know what's got to be done on the opposite side is going to be done, it's going to be done proficiently and it's going to be done swiftly," Tuma said.

Team members said their training in Miami primed them well to care for wounded soldiers and Iraqi civilians.