The date is embedded in Angelo Anderson’s skin, embedded in his being.
The Navy corpsman sees the date — July 2, 2010 — every day, carved in ink in Roman numerals in his right thigh, marking the day that everything changed, the day that everything almost ended.
“It’s so significant that I just wanted to have it around forever,” said Anderson told The Post. “The story, the date itself, is really when the story became mine.”
The story opened in Afghanistan with the sound of a three-round burst from out of sight, leaving Anderson on the ground, struck by two bullets, which broke the femur in his right leg and the humerus in his right arm.
Today, just over three years later, the 24-year-old will sprint past some of the best tennis players in the world across the asphalt of Flushing Meadows as one of the oldest — and most remarkable — of all the ball persons at the U.S. Open.
“It definitely made me never take anything for granted,” Anderson said. “If that day would’ve been fatal, I wouldn’t have had today.”
The Georgia native joined the Navy after high school and reported to Afghanistan in December 2009, working as a field medical surgeon’s technician who was integrated with the Marines.
For more than six months, Anderson enjoyed the experience and education, speaking with local villagers and helping fellow service members. Then came the sound, on a day of normal patrol, which left Anderson bleeding on the ground, waiting for the firefight to end.
“It probably was around 10 minutes, but it felt like a month,” Anderson said. “I was laying down, trying to move a little bit and let [the Marines] know I’m alive, that I’m not dead yet. I had to keep my mind right. You can’t panic or freak out. I said, ‘Relax, they’ll come back and get you.’ ”
Anderson instructed the Marines how to treat his injuries before being transported to an aid station, and after a few days in Germany, he was brought to a hospital he once worked at in the United States.
Next came three major surgeries, six or seven minor procedures and countless hours of physical therapy. Though Anderson couldn’t walk for months, he credits his family for his ability to remain positive while in such pain.
“I told him that life is cyclical. You have your ups and you have your downs,” said his older brother Andre. “When you go through a negative period, now’s the time to be even more thankful because now the good times are going to happen. He was going to heal. He was going to get better.”
Anderson participated in the Warrior Games, an athletic competition for injured service members — in track and field and swimming — with a titanium rod in his leg and a metal plate in his arm, less than a year after being wounded.
“When I was out there, I wasn’t thinking about my injuries, and I wouldn’t be stressed or depressed,” Anderson said. “That was the first time I felt this is who I am now. And that’s fine with me.”
Though Anderson didn’t grow up playing tennis, he was excited to receive an invitation from the USTA Military Initiative to try out as a ball person at the Open and came up from his base in North Carolina.
Anderson has enjoyed it immensely, refusing to call these two weeks “work.” He is involved in a new game he is growing to love and embracing every moment of the unique experience.
Anderson plans to spend at least 14 more years in the military and eventually work with other injured soldiers in adaptive sports, as well as complete an online degree in sports management.
Today is for appreciation. Every day is.
But today’s a chance to compete with new friends to be the fastest ball person in Queens.
“I enjoy every little thing in my life, not just enjoy my life, as broad as that term is,” Anderson said. “Being here is just amazing.”