I'm beginning to think we all suffer whiplash to some extent. You got war, "hey loady, get your ass over there and get those troops loaded" (instant compliance), mortars, 155mm, four turboprop engines screaming, everything in the background just loading up your adrenalin. "move, move, move, we're wastin daylight", small arms fire in the west. In or out, I think.
Snap. You're sitting in your living room, struggling to sit still, gotta go! gotta go! But where? To what?
One moment you're in the jungle/sand/Belgrade, the next....nothing.
I read a story once that may explain why WWII Vets seemed to not suffer the fullest extent of PTSD. It's because they spent weeks? Months? on troop ships coming home. They were allowed to decompress with men they fought shoulder to shoulder with and that helped. Today, you finish patrol duty and grab your duffle and step onto the 130.
No decompression, no support from your squad, just that godawful silence that screamed, surrounded by strangers.
There is a Dr. that I'm head over heels in love with. Her name is Dr. Bridget Cantrell. She runs an outfit called Hearts Toward Home. She goes down and meets with the troops as they come off the plane. With the wives. And everybody sits down and she starts ticking off..."O.K., be aware of this and this and that". And completely goes down the line of what to expect, who to talk to, ect.
I really think she makes a big difference. I know I damn well would have appreciated someone debriefing me.
Ah, blathering again.
Sarg
Snap. You're sitting in your living room, struggling to sit still, gotta go! gotta go! But where? To what?
One moment you're in the jungle/sand/Belgrade, the next....nothing.
I read a story once that may explain why WWII Vets seemed to not suffer the fullest extent of PTSD. It's because they spent weeks? Months? on troop ships coming home. They were allowed to decompress with men they fought shoulder to shoulder with and that helped. Today, you finish patrol duty and grab your duffle and step onto the 130.
No decompression, no support from your squad, just that godawful silence that screamed, surrounded by strangers.
There is a Dr. that I'm head over heels in love with. Her name is Dr. Bridget Cantrell. She runs an outfit called Hearts Toward Home. She goes down and meets with the troops as they come off the plane. With the wives. And everybody sits down and she starts ticking off..."O.K., be aware of this and this and that". And completely goes down the line of what to expect, who to talk to, ect.
I really think she makes a big difference. I know I damn well would have appreciated someone debriefing me.
Ah, blathering again.
Sarg
