MARIETTA, Ga. — With a row of American flags flapping nearby in the morning breeze, Scott Winkler takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a second or two, then begins twisting his massive upper body this way and that, all the while clasping a flying-saucerlike object in his right hand.

"Ahhhhhh!" Winkler screams when he finally unleashes the discus, which soars some 90 feet against a gray sky before dropping into a field that is part grass, part weeds and crawling with ants. It lands with a thud, kicking up a bit of dirt.

"Nice throw, Scott," someone says.

Winkler responds with the slightest of smiles, then lifts up his lifeless legs and plops back into his wheelchair. He's part of a growing class of athletes: a former soldier who sustained catastrophic injuries during his tour of duty in Iraq, now using sports to help rebuild his life and sense of worth.

"I fought for this country," said Winkler, a paraplegic, as he looked ahead to the likely prospect of competing in next year's Paralympics in Beijing. "Now I'd love to win for this country."

The steep price of the Iraq war was evident when the U.S. Paralympic track and field championships were held at a suburban Atlanta high school. Several ex-soldiers, all severely injured in the Middle East, took part in the meet just a few days before that most patriotic of holidays, the Fourth of July.

While modern medicine has helped to reduce the wartime fatality rate, it has ramped up the number of disabled veterans who are sent home with this sobering question: What to do with the rest of their lives?

Sports, it seems, is providing a much-needed catharsis for those who make do with artificial limbs or find themselves confined to a wheelchair.

"We are normal like everyone else," Winkler said. "That's the way we'd like to be treated."

His life changed in a freak accident. While unloading ammunition in Iraq, Winkler fell off an Army truck, landed on his back and suffered a spinal injury that cost him use of his legs.

After struggling with depression for about six months, Winkler slowly came to the realization that it was time to start living again.

He began working with other disabled people, hoping to inspire. Last year, the former high school sprinter attended a U.S. Olympic Committee camp for disabled veterans, a twice-a-year initiative that allows these true American heroes to work with Paralympic coaches.

Winkler, who bulked up his upper body after the accident, was quickly singled out for his potential to throw the discus, shot put and javelin. He recently set a world record in the shot with a toss of just over 10 meters from his specially built chair, which is anchored to the ground with straps, allowing him to generate all the power from the upper half of his body.

"This is all new to me," said Winkler, who's only been competing for eight months. "They say everybody has got some hidden talent in their body. I guess mine is in the field events. Growing up, when I was in middle school and high school, I was a sprinter. I never touched the field events."

Before heading home, Winkler was asked for his thoughts on the Fourth of July, the very reason all those red, white and blue flags were flying along the road in front of Marietta High School. Clearly, he looks at it as far more than a break from work or a chance to fire up the grill.

"This is what our forefathers passed on to us so we can pass it on to the next generation," said Winkler, wearing a T-shirt that said "Leaders, Defenders, Athletes" on the back. "What the flag stands for is awesome. It's the proudest thing to be around. I really don't know what else to say."

Enough said.