mlportersr
New Here
My name is Michael Porter and I have PTSD.
It has taken me years to come to that realization and now that I have, I doubt anyone in a position of authority will ever admit it - just like they will probibly never admit that I was involved in a war. You see I was in the Air Force with the Strategic Air Command (SAC) and I was stationed with the 28th AMS at Elsworth AFB in South Dakota, with occasional side trips to Minot AFB in North Dakota. My job was as the radio maintenance tech flying on the EC135 airborn command posts. I was responsible for maintaining the aircraft's radio and telephone equipment in flight, as well as all the assorted crypto gear that allowed us to launch nuclear missiles. I fought the cold war, which for me was not an abstract concept or academic footnote in a history book. It was a very real war, but one in which there were no parades and no grand battles - all we had were casualties. I have come to realize that just as there are wounds that don't bleed or appear on xrays, so there are a lot of ways to die that fool your heart into continuing to beat and your lungs into pumping air in and out of your body.
Part of my duty was to stand alert a week at a time at both Ellsworth and Minot. To the outsider, "standing alert" looked a lot like "sitting on your butt", since most of the time was spent waiting. But waiting for what? Waiting for WWIII to start. Waiting for someone in Washington or Moscow to go seriously insane and decide to kill the planet and everyone and everything on it. By regulation there had to be a klaxon every week for practice so we knew the horn was comming and we knew that there was a 99.99999999999999999% chance that it was just another practice. But it was the 0.00000000000000001% chance that it was real that made you lie awake at night or do anything to distract yourself from what you were doing.
And then there were the time when we were flying when we thought for an hour or so that WWIII had started...
Well, for the most part that's how I got to where I am today, trying to find healing for myself. I'm hoping that this will be a place to start finding it.
Mike...
It has taken me years to come to that realization and now that I have, I doubt anyone in a position of authority will ever admit it - just like they will probibly never admit that I was involved in a war. You see I was in the Air Force with the Strategic Air Command (SAC) and I was stationed with the 28th AMS at Elsworth AFB in South Dakota, with occasional side trips to Minot AFB in North Dakota. My job was as the radio maintenance tech flying on the EC135 airborn command posts. I was responsible for maintaining the aircraft's radio and telephone equipment in flight, as well as all the assorted crypto gear that allowed us to launch nuclear missiles. I fought the cold war, which for me was not an abstract concept or academic footnote in a history book. It was a very real war, but one in which there were no parades and no grand battles - all we had were casualties. I have come to realize that just as there are wounds that don't bleed or appear on xrays, so there are a lot of ways to die that fool your heart into continuing to beat and your lungs into pumping air in and out of your body.
Part of my duty was to stand alert a week at a time at both Ellsworth and Minot. To the outsider, "standing alert" looked a lot like "sitting on your butt", since most of the time was spent waiting. But waiting for what? Waiting for WWIII to start. Waiting for someone in Washington or Moscow to go seriously insane and decide to kill the planet and everyone and everything on it. By regulation there had to be a klaxon every week for practice so we knew the horn was comming and we knew that there was a 99.99999999999999999% chance that it was just another practice. But it was the 0.00000000000000001% chance that it was real that made you lie awake at night or do anything to distract yourself from what you were doing.
And then there were the time when we were flying when we thought for an hour or so that WWIII had started...
Well, for the most part that's how I got to where I am today, trying to find healing for myself. I'm hoping that this will be a place to start finding it.
Mike...