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If You Knew Then...?

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jackrabbit

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There's a line in a song called Hammerhead by The Offspring that goes, "...close my eyes, it hammers in my head. When it'll end nobody knows." The song is about going to war for all the right reasons, but getting f*cked-up by it anyways.

I realize that this question will be moot for some of you 'Nam-era folks, but for those of us who enlisted, if you knew then how much it was gonna f*ck you up, would it have changed your mind?

Me? I was full of hooah. Back then I would've signed the paperwork without a second thought. Hell, even now, I would've signed anyways--but it would've been nice to know in advance.
 
I knew the Marines had f*cked up my da and I went in anyway. I was young and dumb and bulletproof. Turns out I was just dumb. I loved the time in the Marines don't get me wrong but I gave up a lot to go. Football scholarship, a job doing art...so much I could have done. The Marines changed me and was so much a part of my life... I think I would still do it again even knowing how messed up I am. its in my blood.
 
Same here, my dad served through end of Empire, saw a lot of stuff, and it left its scars.
Certainly didn't stop me, at that age you don't pay attention. Now? Well the knowledge and realisation I have now is a result of living to this age, so it's a bit theoretical, really. I would do it again, but make sure I got more time on the range......
 
Bit of range 'mystery' stew to keep you going. I quite liked the range too, the 'butts' were like something from the 1930', "targets up". I'm guessing you're a marksman Ned? Used to love the closest grouping competitions.

I'd still go in the Army if I knew, and I would dodge the 1st marriage too while I'm there. I owe allot to my service, ptsd or not. Was an honour to serve. I would have said quite the opposite a year ago.
 
I owe allot to my service, ptsd or not. Was an honour to serve. I would have said quite the opposite a year ago.

I concur Dan. Always very proud of my service especially the joint parts. As for my service...f*ckin ruined by a one skill mafia...hope it gets consumed to save $$$
 
Even in my time there was a choice. Some left the country rather than go in the service. I'll not go into the particulars of that except to say that are always choices. I could have just been drafted but decided to join the Marines. I thought that if I was going to have to go to 'Nam at least the training might help me get home. I did get home, barely, and think it's more luck than training.

Hindsight being 20/20 I think different things about what I might have done different but didn't. Wishing I had won't change the past. I am what I am because of it, both the bad and the good. I wouldn't be the person that I am today had I not gone through all that as well as what I continue to deal with.

I have a friend that I played in my first successful band with. We were hot. R&R,blues, played all over the tristate area. Recording contracts in the works and then BAM!! the draft took the lead guitarist, and drummer. That was it for that band. As successful as my friend has been in his life and he is quite successful he always talks of that time and those things like that was the only important part and everything else didn't matter. Like the Bruce Springstein song about the baseball player reliving his 'Glory Days'.

Remembering your past is great and a part of you. Being stuck in it isn't. Experience it, learn from it and move on. Guess that's been my credo. Life is out there and the possibilities of new things and chances as well. Guess I'm always gonna' be the guy that sees the glass as half full.
 
I built up a hell of a military file. I would of been proud of it...when I was teenager. But when the war never ends, one doesn't know what to think. Then, I get into a big "woulda-shoulda-coulda" and I continue to hear of the the apparently endless damage I've done and I'm not sure of anything anymore.

This board has been such an incredible enigma. It has shown me the path out. It has eased my pain. I've laughed, cried, gotten so pissed off I couldn't see straight but it has made me look into the eyes of the beast. It has caused me to dig down deep into that dark, scary place and pull out the poison. And that hurts.

No pain, no gain.

Sarg
 
I was in love with the Army before Iraq. Loved everything about it. Loved my haircut and my starched BDUs and jungle boots (green, of course, as a tribute to the Nam guys). I was Air Assault, a 19 year old E5, PLDC honor graduate. In for the long haul.

But after Iraq, I just couldn't separate the war from the army anymore. The army I had loved was the same one that sent us over the berm with SAPI plates and with defective NODs. And I was in the 101st. I have no idea how the national guard guys did it. When I came back from Iraq, I started to get back to normal and think about staying in. Then we got sent back for another tour. And any thought I had of staying in unraveled.

All that being said: yes, I would do it again, but only for my guys in my platoon. We were a family. I miss it and them so much. I would do every minute of it over again to be with them.
 
I feel for you, OIF. The shit you boys and girls dealt with over there was ridiculous. The ROE and kiss-ass with the locals alone would've driven me to drink. More. Driven me to drink more.

Every generation here has something to bitch about, but the folks in for the Clinton and Bush Sr. administrations have nothing on you and the 'Nam guys.
 
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