- Post starter
- #13
Friday,
You really do have a way with words and putting things in perspective. The WW generation, like my still living grandpa, sure do have my admiration. It was just one front to another to another. Ok, were done in Africa, now let's goto France, and then Italy and so on. Very different times we live in far from the "shell shock" diagnosis days huh?
The f*cked up thing with me is, I don't have a problem with the shit i did or the people I shot. Sure you start to think about it but overall that's not my problem. Mine lies with holding the hand of a brother who was shot through the eye on patrol, as somehow he stayed alive long enough for him to sit there gurgling and choking on his blood, having him shake and writhe around while the medic slices his own throat to put a trache tube in for him to breath, then he just slips away. All of this while under fire.
I took a VERY vengeful approach to my last tour after this incident. It was bad but that's how I felt, not knowing if the next person who engaged our patrol would be one of the shitbricks who shot and killed my friend. I always had that on my mind.
Once I got home, that shit just continued stateside. Trouble with poeple, family, law, and my now ex-wife of 7 years.
I've finally realized after being single for nearly a year that I will never find that person who did that and living each day as a battle and a constant "war mentalty" won't get me nowhere and it's time to hang up the boots so to speak.
You really do have a way with words and putting things in perspective. The WW generation, like my still living grandpa, sure do have my admiration. It was just one front to another to another. Ok, were done in Africa, now let's goto France, and then Italy and so on. Very different times we live in far from the "shell shock" diagnosis days huh?
The f*cked up thing with me is, I don't have a problem with the shit i did or the people I shot. Sure you start to think about it but overall that's not my problem. Mine lies with holding the hand of a brother who was shot through the eye on patrol, as somehow he stayed alive long enough for him to sit there gurgling and choking on his blood, having him shake and writhe around while the medic slices his own throat to put a trache tube in for him to breath, then he just slips away. All of this while under fire.
I took a VERY vengeful approach to my last tour after this incident. It was bad but that's how I felt, not knowing if the next person who engaged our patrol would be one of the shitbricks who shot and killed my friend. I always had that on my mind.
Once I got home, that shit just continued stateside. Trouble with poeple, family, law, and my now ex-wife of 7 years.
I've finally realized after being single for nearly a year that I will never find that person who did that and living each day as a battle and a constant "war mentalty" won't get me nowhere and it's time to hang up the boots so to speak.