Healing Combat Trauma

Quotable Quotes -- Thomas Dooley, III, M.D., on Spending Part of Your Life Serving Others

"Dedicate some of your life to others.  Your dedication will not be a sacrifice.  It will be an exhilarating experience because it is an intense effort applied toward a meaningful end." -- Thomas Dooley, III, M.D., U.S. Navy physician. (1927 - 1961.)

© 2010 by Lily Casura / Healing Combat Trauma. All rights reserved. Use with attribution.

 

Quotable Quotes -- Norm Rice on Pulling Others into the Light

"Dare to reach out your hand into the darkness, to pull another hand into the light." -- Norm Rice, former mayor of Seattle.

© 2010 by Lily Casura / Healing Combat Trauma. All rights reserved. Use with attribution.

 

Quotable Quotes -- E.M. Forster on a Life in Transition

In a quote that rings true to those who have suffered something as life-changing as PTSD, after combat -- or for that matter, what happens in the life of the caregiver or loved one of the combat vet with PTSD:

"We must be willing to let go of

The life we have planned

So as to have the life

That is waiting for us." -- E.M. Forster, British novelist (1879 - 1970). 

© 2010 by Lily Casura / Healing Combat Trauma. All rights reserved. Use with attribution.

 

Quotable Quotes -- Heraclitus on the Real Warrior Brings Others Back

"Of every one hundred men, ten shouldn't even be there, 
eighty are nothing but targets, nine are real fighters... 
We are lucky to have them, they make the battle... 
AH but ONE, one of them is a Warrior... 
he will bring the others back." 

-- Attributed to Heraclitus, circa 500 B.C.

When it comes to real warriors with PTSD, who will bring the others back? Rhetorical for now, but it won't stay rhetorical forever... There are ways to improve the condition of a warrior with PTSD. Read more about that here.

© 2010 by Lily Casura / Healing Combat Trauma. All rights reserved. Use with attribution.

 

When Is PTSD NOT PTSD? When Stubborn Pride Takes Control

Editor's note: We're not giving you medical or psychological advice here; consult with your own health care practitioner for that. What we are doing is sharing a longtime PTSD sufferer's opinion with you about his own situation, on the off-chance that it may instruct or enlighten. We have the feeling, now that he's outed himself, others may quite enjoy learning the distinctions he shares from his own life. And when we say "others," we mean spouses, significant others and family members...

From the subject of "Eyewitness to Combat," a Vietnam vet, Marine, with 40 years of "experience" on the subject:

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder has many faces and it sometimes masquerades as a behavioral problem; conversely, there are times when behavioral abnormalities masquerade as PTSD.  In other words, sometimes PTSD is mistaken for just stubborn Pride; and sometimes stubborn Pride is excused as PTSD.  There is also a third face, the one in which we appear completely “Normal.” So the “trick” becomes knowing which one is in control – the PTSD one; the PRIDEFUL one; or the NORMAL one. 

One of the most frustrating and difficult problems in sorting this out with traumatized MST or PTSD combat vets is that by their very nature, MST and PTSD sufferers are very complicated individuals, to say the least. It’s almost as if we are different people at different times.  And in fact we are.  My wife used to say she “never knew which one” of me “was coming home.” In other words: “PTSD really screws us up: mentally, emotionally, socially, personally, professionally and physically”.  However on many of the occasions that get blamed on PTSD, it is in fact our own personality “quirks” that have intervened, kidnapped and magnified the suffering from PTSD. And in the healing process, this habitual behavior must be sorted out before any true healing can “stick.” It’s true that we can be healed from our PTSD “disorder” but also allow our pride, habitual bad habits and negative attitude to completely mask any real improvement.

I do know that true healing from the destructiveness of PTSD is possible and real. I know this because I lived with all three faces of it for forty years and I have been healed.  Not “cured” but healed to a point that I now have a mostly “normal” a life rather than a mostly PTSD, prideful, bad habit and negative attitude life.  From this very long journey to healing I am able to speak from wisdom and experience on behavioral abnormalities disguised as PTSD.  I have been there; done that; and, for the most part, “have gotten away clean with it.” Now looking back, I am embarrassed and ashamed of myself for falling into the “pity party” that “works for me” trap.  I allowed myself to become “victimized,” believing that I was “entitled” to feel sorry for myself and that everyone else should feel sorry for me as well.  My PTSD actually made me feel “special” as everyone was made to “tiptoe” around me like a king walking among his subjects, so as not to “set me off”.  Trust me when I say that “this gets very old very quick” to those who love you, care for and about you; and it should be of no surprise when they begin to get a little bitter and non-empathetic toward our behavior.  It just gets tiring!  Upon entering the 90 day VA in-house PTSD treatment program years ago, I came face-to-face with a sign over the door of our billet, made by one of the previous vet therapists, that said: “How long would YOU put up with YOU?!  Well, not very damn long, I can tell you that – and that sign made the point for all of us.  So why should we expect others to do so?!  And if that’s true, why do we resist healing? Suffering from PTSD for most of my life made me very familiar with all of its symptoms and destructive consequences, along with what it does to our own physical body.  I am well aware of how devastating it is upon the family, friends and employers of those suffering from this disorder.  Today though, when I’m substantially healed, (see “before and after” story, linked here) I find that I can still act like a full blown PTSD’er.  The only difference is that now it’s my choice when to move into that arena, or not.  As my youngest grown son would say, “I’m going with NOT!”.  So in going there now it’s a premeditated decision to do so, not one dictated by PTSD. It’s premeditated because I first think about it, usually when my feelings get hurt, and then I stop taking my meds, as in “I’ll show them”, followed by then I stop doing what I know to do to keep me grounded and clear of stress such as EFT or Qi Gong.  Then I isolate myself in my all-too-familiar bunker, and “Away I go!” But this time it’s stubborn, God-damned pride that is pushing my behavior and keeping it in play, NOT PTSD. It might look like PTSD, sound like PTSD, feel like PTSD – and I am enjoying the effects. My world is now totally miserable, and I am glad – because I am back in control! The poet John Dryden put the sequence this way, “We first make our habits, and then our habits make us”.  Relinquishing control to our Prideful self is a habit we simply cannot afford if we suffer from PTSD.  It will destroy us and everyone around us. Again, if it is so miserable and so devastating, why stay in it? They “why” is PRIDE: Stubborn God-dammed, destructive PRIDE, a shitty attitude and very bad habits.  How does this fit into having PTSD?  It doesn’t fit into HAVING PTSD at all, but it DOES fit into KEEPING it!  And why would we want to KEEP Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder going, when we have the tools to get rid of it? Because it’s comfortable; it’s normal to us; it gives us control whenever we want; it gives us an excuse for bad behavior; it gives us an identity; it’s amusing to “shock” others; it draws attention to us; we don’t have to follow the rules and get a pass for doing so; it gets us “stuff”; it makes us somebody special and we can even be “paid” to have it.   And if you are getting “paid” to have it, it makes you a professional PTSD’er.  Sooooo why not act like one and let the spouse go to work; you get paid not to! You can sit on the couch and own the friggin’ remote and when you want to watch something cool you can clear the room and get a beer delivered to you in the process.  All the while someone can give you the beer, the TV and the couch.  I also know this to be true because I have spent up to a month terrorizing everyone in my life with my fucking PRIDE disguised as PTSD.  And I enjoyed the whole experience! But eventually even my pride got to a point that I couldn’t stand it anymore.  I allowed myself to be ashamed of this childish behavior and to apologize and ask for forgiveness so that I could come out of the corner.  NOW I really am ashamed of myself because I hurt those I loved and they didn’t deserve it at all.  But now I know what it is and will not go there again. (Publishing this handy little guide to PTSD vs. PRIDE of course will help!) I’ll use the tools I have been given in healing and use them gladly.  I do not want my loved ones to suffer the fool that I could become.  Scripture puts it this way in 1 Corinthians 13:11: “When I was a child, I talked like a child; I thought like a child; I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me”.  In other words “it’s time we grow up!” Understand I am NOT talking about what “reaction” PTSD compels us to do that is destructive.  What I am talking about is what keeps us continuing the destructive behavior AFTER our PTSD moment has PASSED.  The fact that we suffer from a trauma-induced survival skill does not make us “crazy” or “insane” or incapable of being aware of our surrounding and how our actions affect others.  We still have the ability to know right from wrong and we know when we hurt others and we know when we hurt ourselves.  PTSD also doesn’t change our “moral code”.  If you were a nice person before; you are generally still a nice person and that becomes your “Normal” face.  If you were a courteous person before; you are generally still a courteous person and “Normal”.  If you were a grateful person before; you are generally still a “Normally” grateful person.  If we are truly remorseful for our actions which harm others, as we should be when we are “Normal”, then the abnormal behavior will stop until triggered again. And in our “Normal” state we are ashamed, embarrassed and truly sorry.  If we are not at least remorseful and/or our misbehavior is enjoyable, then we are either a narcissistic “asshole” or we are pretending to continually have PTSD behavior for control and that is our “Prideful” face.  If we are ashamed, embarrassed and sorry but continue in bad behavior, then we are stubborn “Prideful” fools using the ole, “That’s my story and I’m stickin to it” crap.  It will lead to your destruction and that of your family.  And PRIDE becomes the driving force, not PTSD, and the NORMAL face is destroyed.    That was PTSD.  But then I would get embarrassed and mad when “corrected” and take the Prideful mental position of: “Well I sure fucked that one up; so screw them all” and I would then “dig my heels in” and really make everyone miserable.  And I enjoyed it.  I was “showing them” for getting justifiably upset at me for my action.  That was PRIDE.  “They would learn to leave me alone whenever I would go into one of my “Marine Corps Moods”, as my kids would call it.  Yep, goddamn Marine Corps PRIDE!  (In truth, I have three kinds of pride: Texas pride! Irish pride! And Marine Corps pride! And that is a whole giant bucket of PRIDE…) Understand that I DID have severe PTSD and those triggering events happened a bunch but the moment I realized I had screwed up, PTSD ended and PRIDE took over to magnify the damage.  I was too proud to admit that I was wrong and then ask for forgiveness or even to say I was sorry.  For a Marine to apologize was a “sign of weakness”.  To take this action with those who love you only adds INSULT to INJURY.  However for a father, a husband, a son, a partner, to apologize is essential and your “Normal” self and is a great sign of love, appreciation, humility, strength, self-confidence and courage. When scripture states that “the meek shall inherit the earth,” it is not talking about the weak but the gracious, strong, self-confidently humble who attempt to right the wrongs they have done to others. Our families and loved ones know when that moment of awareness happens, and they appreciate it and respond to it, but conversely, with no remorse on our part they start to lose empathy for our plight, and rightfully so.  If our prideful attitude and bad behavior keeps up, they become aloof, distant, uncaring and bitter – and here’s the thing, we’ve helped to make them that way through our actions. PTSD is what causes the hyper-vigilance and other survival reactions triggered by events in our lives, but PRIDE is what causes us to stay in the now habitual act of PTSD.  True healing can only come when we understand that we will have the tendency to move into survival mode for the rest of our lives and that there are things we can do to effectuate a smooth, peaceful, happy life.  AND it is essential that we do those things consistently for the rest of our lives. (Examples would be taking our medication, and using the tools we can do at home for our own self-care, such as meditation, deep breathing, qi gong, EFT, music therapy, aromatherapy, etc. -- and knowing when it's PRIDE that's taken control!) We also must learn to be grateful to those around us who put up with our “moments” and have enough respect for them to swallow our pride and say we are sorry and mean it; then sincerely ask for forgiveness in love.  If you are unwilling to do this, then you are not ready to be healed because you are enjoying being miserable and making others miserable too much.  And I really feel sorry for you.  When we realize we have just had one of those “moments”; STOP, regain your composure, look around at what you have effectuated and apologize and mean it.  But if you do nothing else, just STOP and go to your corner.  When you have calmed down, then correct it before PRIDE takes control and kills everyone around you or before it forces you back into the “bunker”.  Your families know when you are faking PTSD and when it is real; so grow up and get your shit together."Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” Proverbs 16:18. Even with PTSD!"

© 2010 by Lily Casura / Healing Combat Trauma. All rights reserved. Use with attribution.

 

Quotable Quotes -- Charles Dickens on Happiness Being a Gift

"In every life, no matter how full or empty one's purse, there is tragedy. It is the one promise life always fulfills. Thus, happiness is a gift and the trick is not to expect it, but to delight in it when it comes, and to add to other people's store of it." -- Charles Dickens, "Nicholas Nickelby" 

© 2010 by Lily Casura / Healing Combat Trauma. All rights reserved. Use with attribution.

 

The Good Work of Talk: Healing the Wounded Heart Veterans Workshop

Practicing psychotherapist Allen L. Roland, Ph.D., tells the story of a group of veterans he's been working with in Northern California this past spring, along with Sal Ueda, M.S.W., counselor from the local Vets Center in Concord, CA. Roland writes (bolding is Roland's own emphasis):

"Five Vietnam veterans, all with PTSD, faced their fears and not only opened their hearts but found and began to heal themselves in the process.

The first meeting of the "Healing the Wounded Hearts Veterans Workshop" was on March 11, 2010 at 4 p.m.

They had never met me but they had been told about me, by their adjustment counselor Sal, and were prepared for an eight week commitment to face their fears and open their hearts in the process. They knew I was a Veteran and that made a big difference. 

I told them that this was an action based workshop and if they did their homework they would reach a place of not only another choice but would open their closed hearts in the process. They would also begin to see through different eyes ~ eyes unclouded by fear, resentment and unworthiness. I also explained through my Cycle Of Life chart how psychic pain will override Joy to the extent that most people have no idea that beneath their deepest pain and aloneness is love, joy and connectedness ~ the Unified Field. 

Of course, that first session I shared my own hearts journey to find a lost and alone little boy within myself who not only wanted to fly, and became a Navy Fighter pilot, but also to love as deeply as I loved my beloved grandfather before he was torn away from me at six years old. We didn't talk about the war ~ we all briefly shared our heart's journey and by the end of two hours ~ we became a band of brothers. Their homework was a life chart of the paths of their individual hearts. 

The second session, a week later, we all shared a childhood picture of ourselves and shared our life chart with the group describing our individual journeys to find love and acceptance as well as ourselves. We barely talked about the war ~ we all realized our commonality in that our lives had all been a quest to find meaning and that all of our love relationships had significant meaning. We were a band of brothers on an inner journey of the heart. 

The third session, a week later, they did the Vic/Acct exercise and had the chance to feel the lightness of being accountable versus the heaviness of being a victim. Their homework was to take the people they had resentment towards off the hook and realize that many of them they had deeply loved and were really gifts in their lives. 

Al felt it was the most meaningful aspect of the workshop ~ " I let my ex-wife off the hook ! I hadn't spoken to her in over four years. I was harboring extreme resentment. After the exercise, I was able to call her and let that resentment go. That alone has made a huge difference in how I feel today with her and my life." 

We barely talked about the war ~ we were a band of brothers on a common journey to find ourselves. 

The fourth session, a week later, they met the child within by means of a powerful guided visualization. Every one of them saw that long lost innocent child who told them what they needed to do to fully embrace him in their lives now. Their faces literally changed and became younger as they made that inner connection ~ it was like long dormant flowers suddenly blooming. I was moved almost to tears to see these Veterans suddenly claim their joy and innocence after years of self doubt and despair. For Tom it was the most meaningful aspect of the workshop ~ "Just seeing the look on the other Vets faces as they met the inner child." 

Their homework was to give that child a voice and hang out with him. 

The Fifth session, one week later, was all about gratefulness and thanking the people who have been there for them their whole life ~ with the help of a guided visualization. Many of them had not thanked anyone and certainly not themselves. Thomas shared his homework from the previous session and had 12 pages of notes on his experience. Here are some excerpts ~ " Once again, I was so surprised when it happened at the group meeting that I could hardly wait for it to happen again and again. Just the thought made me feel like a weight was lifting my shoulders and mind ... I meditated and saw him again. I asked him again ~ What do I need to do to fully embrace you in my life ? He immediately answered ~ Since birth, I have always been with you constantly. You just weren't looking for me. You just didn't see me or believe in me but I see a change in you now ~ more than any time since Vietnam." 

Thomas ended his notes by writing ~ " I can't believe that I have had this problem for some 40 years and I feel like a new born child. I'm still amazed that I had blocked out so much and yet this was the right key to change things for the better ~ and it was so simple to initiate ~ I feel good !!! " 

By now the Band of Brothers were inspiring each other on their common journey through fear ~ they were beyond the point of no return. Their homework was to thank at least 25 people who had touched them before the next session. We still barely talked about the war for there was no need to. They were already healing themselves by taking responsibility for love and coming from gratitude. 

The sixth session, one week later, was the Death Exercise where the group, through a visualization, were guided in a profound death exercise which helped them to experience the degree to which the people closest to them really knew them. The exercise actually simulates your death and the resultant shock of knowing that you did not truly share yourself with the people closest to you or that very few people really knew you.Obviously, it is a strong inner stimulus to open your heart with the people closest to you ~ and that was their homework to accomplish with the five people closest to them before the next session. 

Most of them enjoyed the element of the unknown that they were continually coming face to face with in these sessions, especially Al ~ " I enjoyed the element of surprise. It was hard to know week to week just what the activity would be and how it would effect me. Every week was different and unique but it all came together " 

The seventh session, one week later, reinforced that we are continually being called from within to the path of the heart, but few listen and fewer still respond. It is in this session that they understand that they have been called to the inner journey of the soul ( through Love) versus the outer journey of the ego ( through Fear ). This session ended with a visualization exercise in which they realize that the most precious gift they have always wanted is themselves ~ free from fear. 

For Barry, this was the most meaningful aspect of the workshop " For me, getting in touch with my inner child and having it pointed out to me that the key was just being myself and to trust myself without any fear or fears of the consequences." 

The Homework as well as ongoing homework was to share the gift of themselves with others but in the spirit of celebration ~ not deprivation. 

It was in that same spirit of celebration that we had our Eighth and final session where everyone acknowledged each others common journey through fear to the joy, love and light beneath. As George said, "Now, I truly know I have another choice and I can be loved for just being myself and I don't have to enable people to win their love.... I see the growth in my fellow members but also how we learned to love each other ~ a true Band of Brothers." 

It was also an incredible experience for both myself and Sal, a Veterans Readjustment counseling therapist (from the local Vets Center) who both formed the group and then fully participated in the sessions. 

Sal's most meaningful aspect of the workshop was "To witness and see the burden of fear, guilt and pain of each group participate lifted. To see the youthfulness return to their eyes, faces and demeanors. It is a blessed experience to see the joy return to these war veterans after years of despair. It is simply humbling and a beautiful sight." 

I was also humbled by this experience and validation of my empowering work as well as the receptivity of these veterans who obviously longed to be seen from the heart and not through eyes of fear. 

They had been trained many years ago to kill and I, in essence, jump started their hearts by re-training them to love and they began to heal themselves in the process by realizing that they indeed had another choice. 

And we never concentrated on the war for the real war had been waged within themselves ~ and they were now victorious."

-- Written by Allen L. Roland, Ph.D.  Used with permission.

Editor's note: The accompanying photo is of five other Vietnam veterans from a different gathering, not the ones described in the article.

Quotable Quotes -- Audie Murphy on Getting Over Combat

Audie Murphy, left, in his day, was the most decorated American soldier from World War II, winning the Medal of Honor, among 27 others. He also famously told a reporter, "You know, you never get over combat. I don't think you ever do." (Quoted in Chaim F. Shatan, M.D.'s famous text, "The Grief of Soldiers," from 1973.) He died at 45 years old.

We would wish for every Audie Murphy, and every other combat veteran, more relief from his struggles, and more healing, than Murphy himself was able to know. Let it be so.

© 2010 by Lily Casura / Healing Combat Trauma. All rights reserved. Use with attribution.

 

Souls Go Out to Combat, Many Come Home -- Angels of War

More from the longtime Navy vet, a leader in the mythopoetic men's movement of the 80s and 90s. He writes:

Combat Trauma -- Angels of War

 

Souls go out to combat. Some come back as angels, brought on the dark wings of the Black Hawk. Rough hands lifting and holding the black bag containing the Angel, strain not just the arms backs also the Soul.

“You’re in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort there

 

So tired of the straight line

And everywhere you turn

There’s vultures and thieves at your back

And the storm keeps on twisting

You keep on building the lie

That you make up for all that you lack

It don’t make no difference

Escaping one last time

It’s easier to believe in this sweet madness oh

This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

 

In the arms of an angel

Fly away from here “

 

Excerpts:

Sarah McLachlan  “Angel” lyrics

Valkyries in the heart of a giant Black Bird moving with the rough love of detachment -- fear of offending ones own soul, taking an Angel starting the journey  back from the crossing of the Styx of this world.

Combat trauma comes in many guises. Taking an Angel from its last battle in this life -- knowing the loss from this world has just begun, and will last in many hearts for years and lifetimes. The clatter of the mechanical Black Bird, lifts the Angel spirit, ferrying it away from the vast width of the Styx.

The soul of whom lifts the angel bears a burden the mind must ignore, shifting the grief to the soul. The strongest, yet most vulnerable in the struggle of love and life.

The Angel is leaving the field of horror, destruction, grief and despair. Taking the love and grief of those souls left behind. These Angels leave the field of dissolution with the ultimate honor. They did their duty!

Now their honor be born out of this dissolution by warriors, who must stuff the love, hate and tenderness in the soul, stuff it down, keep hidden away until it can be faced it in the light of awareness.

So many of us miss the vulgar life of destruction, the rage of absence of comrades who have gone before, crossed the river of absolution, the visceral reality that we must chose to exist -- to keep our souls here in this world, amidst the grief, angst, and longing for relief. We must honor those Angels who have been released from the torture of delivering the blessing of life or the deliverance of death.

For those who have been in the sacred place of combat, we must remember a sacred place must have the smell of shit and blood of sacrifice that makes it sacred.

We will all know the sound of beating wings, each time, for the rest of our lives, when vibration of a mechanical bird is felt by the soul long before the mind registers a sound. Our soul remembers Angels we know -- sometimes we say hello  -- mostly faces, sights. Floods up from the soul -- not down from the mind.

As a new friend said, “I am too old to fight “ but I might add, we will always remember when we were fighters, and honor those who have taken up the fight, living every breath, minute by minute, and those Angels who have finally come home."

© 2010 by Lily Casura / Healing Combat Trauma. All rights reserved. Use with attribution.

 

Whenever Two Marines Meet, Talk Always Turns to "The Third Marine"

In light of today being the anniversary of 9/11, it seems particularly appropriate to share this story, from the mind of the star of the "Eyewitness to Combat" section of this site. He writes:

"A young United States Marine, just 20 years old, was experiencing his first off-base convalescent leave from Balboa Naval Hospital.  

He had been a 19 year old infantry Sergeant in Vietnam and had been severely wounded while serving his second tour of duty in the jungles of the DMZ around the Khe Sanh Air strip.  

 He had been wounded three times and wore the Purple Heart ribbon with two gold stars on his uniform to signify this fact.  

He felt totally out of place as he walked the “beach” in San Diego, California.  

Not knowing where he would end up or where he was going, he could feel the tingling up his spine he had experienced in “Nam” whenever the enemy were near.  

While not fearful, his uneasiness gave way to hyper vigilance as he began to have intrusive thoughts of past roving patrols; the wide streets becoming rice paddies; sidewalks becoming trails along dikes separating flooded fields; buildings becoming treelines, and people becoming “Charlie”.  

As he walked, he began to search the “treelines” for a safe haven in which to seek shelter.  One place in particular caught his eye and he instinctively “dove” through the opening; which was in fact just a door. This safe haven was simply the bar of a downtown hotel, decorated in all dark wood and low lights.  It was dark; it was empty and safe; it was closed in and the perfect “bunker”.  

As his vision adjusted to the dark surroundings the bar came into view or rather into awareness.  He moved toward it, almost stumbling from dizziness.  He settled upon a stool near the end of the bar, barely aware that a pair of eyes was studying him intensely.  Looking down and straight ahead, his peripheral vision picked up the image of red gunnery sergeant stripes and four hashmarks signifying twenty plus years of service in the Marine Corps.  

Upon regaining his composure the young Marine ventured a serious glance to his right.  There sitting just four bar stools away was an “Old Corps” Marine: a Gunny, in his mid forties.  His face was hard and he maintained the presence of authority.  Yet he smiled and turned so that the young Marine could see the “salad dressing” on his uniform.  

He had many ribbon decorations, signifying combat in both WWII and Korea.  He lifted his glass to the young Marine and said: “the rest of the evening is on me; Semper Fucking Fi!!!”  The young Marine finally felt completely safe and at ease; responding: “Semper Fi Gunny, and thanks.”  The Gunny, under his breath, responded: “Oorah!” as he was well on his way to feeling no pain.  

The young Sergeant moved next to the “old” Gunny and introduced himself.  The Gunny, “Penny”, did the same and followed up with a teary eyed statement of total understanding: “I’ve not seen many of those in my 25 years in the Corps” as he pointed to the Purple Heart ribbon.  He then pointed to his own with its two gold stars.  

They looked at each other in total understanding; neither being able to speak for some time, just drinking glass after glass of beer. However the immediate respect they had for each other became readily apparent in the way they looked at each other and in the way they talked with each other. Finally they became sufficiently comfortable with each other and sufficiently inebriated to begin to share their common “experiences”; the wars that each had endured.  

As they drank and as they shared their hearts and souls with each other, the differences in their ages and years between conflicts faded and they began to dwell into the deepest darkest abysses of their souls.  As they became totally absorbed in their conversation a third Marine had entered the bar and had moved to the darkest corner of it. 

He became vaguely but immediately familiar to each of them.  He touched their hearts and they both; young and old, began to softly speak about him.  He was their friend; he was their brother.  They began to talk openly about him; his humor, his screw ups, his courage, his bravery, his friendship, what an “outstanding fucking Marine” he was.  How they wanted to kick his ass; how they loved him; how he was “one crazy son of a bitch”.  They talked openly in front of him; yet without embarrassment, as if wanting him to hear, to know, to understand.  They talked angrily of him; affectionately of him; taunting him to come sit with them, to join them in a drink.   

It was uncanny that both the young Vietnam Vet and the WWII/Korean Vet had known the exact same Marine, years and wars apart.  Yet they did! And there he was right there in the same bar at the same time that they were.  

They both looked deeply into the eyes and heart of the third Marine with reserved reverence.  

Then when all that could be said about him was said; they both grew silent, eyes welling up with tears, they drank to him, held each other and softly cried.  

The old Gunny holding the young Sergeant or was it the young Sergeant holding the Gunny.  They freed their souls and saluted the third Marine for he was the one who did NOT return from battle and is forever carried in the hearts of every Marine until his death.  SEMPER FIDELIS!  Always faithful to all Marines; living and dead.  To never forget.  "Oorah!" meaning “You're God-damned RIGHT!”  

How do I know this is true? It's because I was that young Marine Corps Sergeant.  

This is not to say that Marines care more for the Third Marine than the Army cares for the third Soldier or that Marines drink more and cry more, although they probably do.  It is to say with assurance that the THIRD WARRIOR is NEVER FORGOTTEN.

For whether that THIRD WARRIOR was known intimately or simply observed in death, he becomes the catharsis for the mourning of those of us so fortunate to have survived to carry on their memories.  As long as warriors carry their memory in our hearts, they never truly die but live in us in another dimension.  

Therefore it is necessary for those of us who survived to “live” for those who did not.  To reduce their sacrifice to that of killer by taking our own lives out of guilt would be the grievous of injustices.  They live in us and if we take suicide as the way out of our grief, they die a second and possibly a final death.  

WE HAVE A RESPONSIBILITY TO LIVE ON, TO BE HAPPY AND TO HEAL, for that is what they would have wanted for us.  So live, love and HEAL...

© 2010 by Lily Casura / Healing Combat Trauma. All rights reserved. Use with attribution.

 

The Way of the Snake -- Healing Combat Trauma

From the writer of the recent pieces on ritual and cultural healing for warriors, which we've all gotten to enjoy -- something I genuinely believe is the among the very best writing and thinking we've seen on this site this year. This is totally from the heart, and soul-level wisdom, soul to soul. He writes:

"Since writing these small pieces for your site, memories have come flooding back.I work hard at being detached and articulate, but when I get ready to send a piece, I get lost in a huge feeling of grief.

There are so many stories of love, even in the tragedy of combat, it brings me to tears. which I thought I would not have, trying to be objective in writing about combat and the soul. I am not sure I have ever had a muse, but if I do, she is kicking my ass today. I get so fucking lost in my feelings, working to objectify healing the soul.

I hope Mercury come out of retrograde soon. Just an attempt to ground myself.

Sitting here with tears, wondering WTF. You really are doing great work for warriors."

Then he quotes from a favorite poem, "The Way of the Snake" about combat trauma:

"I lost a year somewhere.

It must have been in Vietnam, I think.

The memories I have from there aren’t

real; they can’t be mine. I don’t know

whose they are, but I hope they

claim them soon—I’ve kept them

far too long.

-- Terry Hertzler, "The Way of the Snake and Other Poems: Writings from the War in Vietnam."

The writer continues:

I spent years looking for Terry, after finding his small book of poetry, and buying all six copies the San Diego store had, little knowing he lived in the same area. I used his writings with many men and women along my path. It as not until 2008, that I finally located Terry on the internet. I called him and we traded stories about his time In country, my use of his poetry, and his coming back stateside. I hope he will write about his “Achilles Tour” in coming back to America.

I write about Terry today, because he stays in my heart, as does his poems and recitations of the things he did after his return to the states. While I would love to recount stories Terry told, they are his stories, and he is the only one that has the right to tell them, however his poems show the effect of the trauma induced by combat.

I share some parts of poems, because he has given me personal permission to us his works. I am not so sure if I were as talented as he, I would be so generous.

I share these thoughts, because they reflect the view of a young warrior after war return, and know they reflect the feelings of many men and a few women I have talked with, in the reconciliation of my own deeds, and failure to understand what price my soul was paying, in all of my involvement in that war.

The fact, that I will carry some things until my death, and perhaps beyond has become less of a burden because I was seen, touched and loved by many people on my path of life. I have had, and still have, great teachers, and have been seen, as worth saving.

I have one picture of me when I was in Vietnam; it was a shock when I discovered it. It was when I began working toward understanding how I could help our returning warriors from these current wars. I could not accept how ragged, out of uniform I was. My mental picture was of a squared away sailor, not an uncovered. Shirt open to the belt, sleeves rolled up, and spiked uncut hair sticking out at angles a nineteen year old kid, standing on the bridge of our small converted LST.

That’s what happens to old veterans, the pictures are as they were, not as we like to recall. The exception is the agony of experience. A picture is perhaps in those days one sixtieth of a second. Memories are in the soul forever. As I was taught, the Huna belief is, the most powerful memories come unbidden in those unaware moments.

For one who has experienced the over pressurization of a M-2 fifty caliber machine gun, so well articulated by Colby Buzzell in his book “Killing Time In Iraq”, or the experience of thrown by the concussion of an explosion, the soul is never unaware.

It should come as no surprise that a returning warrior is hyper vigilant, startled by unexpected noise, people getting in their space, or nervous in crowds.

Returning warriors are evaluated by their chain of command with one purpose. Are they “good to go”. So basically, combat trauma is first observed and evaluated by the lowest ranking personnel in a supervisory position.  Of course highly scientific terms such as “Crazy as a fucking bed bug, but I need him” is the criteria for judgment of combat trauma. Does it qualify as a diagnosis, most assuredly yes! Is the troop mentally impaired? “Fuck No! He’s just like the rest of us!”   

Does obsessively disassembling, cleaning and reassembling a weapon represent a sign of combat trauma?  Who is to know? Perhaps the soul has given the body a function to eliminate physical or mental distress. “Has he got his shit together” “does she have her shit together”? Good to go!

Should we as a nation, or should congress, judge the effect of combat on a person eighteen years old, “Down Range”, when our learned specialists can not agree on what constitutes Combat Trauma. Perhaps we can rely on William Blake, when he wrote “You never know what is enough, until you know what is more than enough”

I return to Terry’s writing, a few excerpts from his writing, “A Vietnam Alphabet":

'D is for dead

E is for E-1, E-2, E-3, etc. those are army ranks. The higher the number, the less chance you will fall under D.

N is for nothing

O is for officers, they often knew nothing.

P is for piece it goes well with

Q which is for quiet. Sometimes too much peace and quiet makes me nervous

R is for R&R, rest and recuperation, rest and relaxation, rest and return.

S is for my friend Sam. Also for shrapnel. Sam stopped a piece of shrapnel with his heart one night.”

-- Terry Hertzler.

Combat trauma starts the first time one hears “Congratulations, you are now a member of the armed forces of the United States of America,” and it never goes away, after experiencing personal danger. It is with us day in, day out, the rest of our lives. The severity of actual personal participation can only be judged by a person’s Soul. To be given a pill, a shot, a cup of foul tasting goop, is not healing the soul. It may deaden, kill, alleviate, delay pain in the body, but it will never heal the soul. Only a person’s soul will know, what it will take to heal their soul, and many warriors are going to need soulful help, in finding comfort for their soul.

A final poem, "Year's End":

“When I was twenty, I lost

Christmas. Like Alice’s rabbit, down

Some dark hole, it disappeared.

I remember New Year’s well

enough. At midnight, the perimeter

Despite all orders to the contrary,

lit up with red, green and white

flares, as tracer rounds

from M-60 machine guns 

wove bright delicate patterns

through the sky.

But Christmas is gone and it frightens me

Christmas is gone—not veiled

in a mist of memory, or crouched

in some dark and secret corner

in my mind, but vanished, completely,

   like some Cheshire cat—leaving

   not even a smile behind

   not even a smile."

-- Terry Hertzler

And finally,

“we never asked to be put into this position

we never had high demands,

we never claimed to be on some kind of mission

like we had some kind of master plan,

it’s not as if we know exactly what we came for

so we settle for what comes our way,

we’re always unprepared for the final encore

what the fuck are we supposed to say.”

-- Clawfinger, "The Price We Pay."

In the Stillhouse of Dread after Combat

(From the ongoing series on ritual as cultural healing for the trauma suffered in combat. Written by a longtime Navy vet who was a leader in the mythopoetic men's movement.) He writes:

Combat Trauma -- The Stillhouse of Dread 

“Oh tear my stillhouse down 

Let it go to rust 

Don’t leave no trace of the hiding place 

Where I made that evil stuff 

For all my time and money 

No profit did I see 

That old copper kettle 

Was the death of me” -- Gillian Welch 

Trauma from combat is an evil brew indeed. It besots the mind, controls the body and absent self intervention can lead to death. The mind remembers, the mind’s eye sees, the body remembers and the soul exists, filled with anger and grief. Sometimes the mind swells inside the brain- which some learned people will deny. 

Nevertheless the mind expands, transcends time and physical bounds, leaves the body. Goes back in time. The taste of fury rises,and a gorge of power races through the body. Sounds, smells, vibrations and the pulsating wave of rapid fire exists, right here, right now. The aura of the body pulls in tight, the body reacts, the limbic of ancient humanity struggling for survival rise from the soul’s depths. The timelessness of intensity is maintained until overload occurs and blocks the mind from the soul, to enable the soul to survive. 

The soul remains to pull the body back from extinction. Unfortunately for some warriors, the soul’s power is greatly diminished and the body continues over the precipice into the solace of suicide. There is no suicide prevention short of physical restraint, which only exacerbates the mind’s disconnection with the Soul. "Talking the talk" helps strengthen the resolute soul, but the inability to change the past, to accept the nature of the soul, through scenes projected by the minds eye leads to the absolute cessation of the strength of the soul. The soul’s power is so depleted, the body mind demands the overload be negated by complete shutdown of all systems. Since the limbic soul fights to live, only an external force can quiet the internal strife that is maddening to the soul. The EVIL BREW of combat trauma prevails: 

“And somewhere a wind ready to find lost (souls) And cover their tracks We walk on, leaves blow past” William Stafford (souls substituted for men because we now have women in combat -- author.) 

Going back to the opening song, we can deconstruct the verse with combat trauma. “Oh tear my stillhouse down let it go to rust” (Eliminate the problems of my soul or psyche.) “Don’t leave no trace of the hiding place” ( No residual disturbance.) “Where I made that evil stuff” (What I did was against the laws of humanity.) “For all my time and money no profit did I see” (My youth, my life was wasted.) “That old copper kettle was the death of me” (The cauldron of warfare has killed my sense of righteousness, I must go underground to rectify my Soul.) 

Mircea Eliade in his work “Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy” discusses ideologies of the Indo—European ideas of life after death, the ecstasy of decent into Hades as an initiation and absorption into magical realm of fallen heroes. Without discussing religious beliefs in various churches and denominations, we can see through many complex civilizations there is a belief of life after death. Eliade also discusses the use of hemp and mushrooms in achievement of intoxication before or during séances. 

In the same discussion he notes the beginning of the use of alcohol and tobacco as the beginning of decadence in shamanic techniques. “Narcotic intoxication is called on to provide an imitation of a state that the shaman is no longer capable of attaining otherwise.” It is not a long step to the position of altering the state of mind through the use of mood or mind altering substances, to alleviate the pain in the mind and Soul. 

While intoxication or the use of mind or mood altering substances can influence conscious pain or confusion (suffering) in returning warriors with extreme mental or physical disturbance, the root of the disturbance lies in the soul. 

The Soul of a returning warrior must go through a metamorphosis to return to a different world, to ascend from Hades, as is indicated in myth and teachings of the ancient teachings of many civilizations. To understand the angst of combat trauma, one must learn the old myths and folklore, and learn to listen to the shadow of the returning warrior. 

If one is to look at military suicides, one must stop at simple interdictions with mood or mind altering substances and go to the interpersonal healing touch of hands and souls. The honest feeling of care and concern given freely. One cannot help but feel in awe of those souls that maintain the watch at suicide hotlines, Those are the last touchstone for many warriors and their families. Not only are they compassionate human beings, they are also warriors in combat with the daemons at war for souls. 

(This writing is meant in no way to impugn any religious belief or practice.)"

In the Dungeon -- Laying Down the Burden after War and Letting It Go

More from the longtime Navy vet and former leader in the mythopoetic men's movement:

“We tend to call it the real war. The rest of it’s just the show biz war. The real war involves getting down there and killing people. And being killed yourself or just barely escaping it. It gives you attitudes about life and death that are unobtainable anywhere else.” -- Paul Russel, "The War" on PBS.

---

"He had 80 weight of Spanish iron

Between his breast bone and his knee

But Billie broke locks

And Billie broke bolts

And Billie broke all that he came nigh

Until he came to the dungeon door

And that he broke most manful lie."

                                    -- Old Ballad.

How can one be free, with 80 weight of “Spanish Iron” trauma between the breast bone and the knee? Out of the combat zone, out of danger, but not out of the trauma, but still have 80 weight of trauma between our breastbone and the knee, that one must carry. Is there a place one can store that “Spanish Iron"?

 Is there a place one can lay down the burden, perhaps just for a while? Just long enough to get some rest, sleep without dreams of horror, not jump from noise, trust someone to touch the body with compassion. Some place where understanding does not get in the way of rest. A place the body can move freely, not tense with expatiation or anticipation... 

If that weight is on the soul, how does one remove it, leave it behind for a while, remember where it is, trust it will stay there forever? We may have to back and check on it, a lot at first, but learn to trust it is in safekeeping. So we can continue on our path toward a new life, unburdened with “80 weight of Spanish Iron”.

There are old ways of leaving heavy burdens borne by warriors, returning from bloody encounters of enemies. There are ways other warriors and community can show a sacred place to store the burdens of war, guarded by ancient spirits of warriors past.

Each warrior has a choice of the manner in which to leave their burden. Some have been washed in lamb's blood, others blessed by a holy man or holy woman, Some, though not many have left burdens to be watched by Fairies and Unicorns. Others have sent their burden into a drum, or flute, instruments taken down from walls, held as one would hold a small child, playing with abandon.

According to ancient warriors, only a ritual or mystical path, will lead one to the right place. The soul of the warrior will know the place none other. Each soul knows the best path to take, though sometimes the body will resist, out of respect to the memories contained in the warriors' Spanish Iron .

Some bodies follow an unknown path, and find solace in a poor storage container. Sometimes these paths promise to be easy. They lead to containers of spirit smoke, and drink, and false intensity which is so familiar to the body, the voice of the Soul is muted.

The correct path for the warrior may also be his or her most difficult one. Many have words that describe this path. One spirit of courage left this saying for those who choose their path:

 “to be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.”

 “let it go-the

smashed word broken

open vow or

the oath cracked length

wise-let it go it

was sworn to

                     go

let them go-the

truthful liars and

the false fair friends

and the boths and

neithers-you must let them go they

were born

                to go

let all go-the

big small middling

tall bigger really

the biggest and all

things-let all go

dear

       so comes love”

 -- e.e. cummings, U.S. poet (1894 - 1962). 

Quotable Quotes -- Transformation and Metamorphosis for the Returning Warrior

"The soul of a returning warrior must go through a metamorphosis to return to a different world, to ascend from Hades, as is indicated in myth and teachings of the ancient teachings of many civilizations. To understand the angst of combat trauma, one must learn the old myths and folklore, and learn to listen to the shadow of the returning warrior." -- A concerned veteran.

Editor's note: "Metamorphosis" comes from Greek, by way of Latin -- to change one's form.

(For more on ritual and the returning warrior, please see our recent series, linked here.)

Warrior Suicides and the Need for Spiritual Rituals for Returning Veterans

(From our ongoing series on ritual for cultural healing after war; again written by the longtime Navy vet who was a leader in the men's movement.) He asks:

"How can we heal the wounds of warriors that are so deep and mystifying that the only solution is to end all consciousness, via suicide?

Vietnam veteran and therapist Arthur Egendorf in his book, Healing from the War: Trauma and Transformation after Vietnam," states that "Healing ins't complete when the pain subsides." He later quotes a Vietnam veteran, Bill Broyles, as saying, “Men love war.” One only has to read a little further to find he states this “is a deep dark secret” that men “don’t dare admit.”

War is combat -- and combat is the "arena of the Gods" -- where the ability to take life from another comes into play. It's the mystical world of life and death, decided in battle or struggle. Perhaps myths of the gods originally came from the miracle of birth, and the unknown of death. Where there was a blow to the head in anger, in play, or happenstance, and death came, unexplained. To cope with this unknown required the evolving human mind to accept the phenomenon of sudden death, such as happens in combat.

We know that combat preparation requires the transformation of a person from the everyday world of youth, which is mostly ignorant of mortality, its own or others', into a god-like position of “Life-Taker and Heart-Breaker”. In the military, this transformation is accomplished through ritual. 

The effect of this ritual can be illustrated in writings of many veterans in speaking of their first Drill Sergeant or Company Commander. This induction into the world of “Life-Taker and Heart-Breaker” leads one into the Realm of the Gods. The power to deliver death or grant life extension, and be the harbinger of wrath and destruction, by the simple movement of one digit of the hand, is sanctioned by the indoctrination ritual. 

This reinforces the ritual in the body, mind and psyche of the warrior. Each sunrise, combat ration, sunset, night patrol or watch increases the intensity of the initial ritual. An additional ritualistic enforcement is the individual performance of cleaning weapons, combat ammunition load, water, stimulants, checking twice or more that everything is in place, and ready to complete the ritual of “Life-Taker and Heart-Breaker”.

Returning warriors come back to land of difference. No longer do they have the power of the Gods. They are returned to a strange land, whose customs are unfamiliar and the people are foreign. There is no ritual of forgiveness of the sins of the soul. There is no magic balm to heal the sin-sick soul. Only loss of life intensity. The skills that were necessary to stay alive and protect comrades are no longer needed.

The ancient way of ritual would be to get the village together and tell a “dilemma story,” and create movement from one world to another. By embodying the dilemma, displacement would occur, allowing the warrior to take a rightful place in the village, or society.

While the ceremony of returned warriors brought back under their shield is the most moving of military ceremonies, the grieving of remaining family and friends must be done outside the government care. One only has to read the stories of destitute loved ones of the abandonment of the relatives after the burial ceremony is complete to hear the angst of unresolved grief. 

Unfortunately alternative healing professions, or Medicine Men and Medicine Women, embodiment through movement, and other non-medical therapeutic modalities are not recognized by the government, the military, or some circles of society.

We lament about suicide but are unwilling to accept spiritual rituals as healing, in the face of veterans utilizing their own resources to obtain better health, through alternative, non-traditional, non-medical or non-Judeo/Christian methods."

After Combat, Healing the Sin-Sick Warrior Soul with Ritual

Periodically we have the honor here of running someone else's writing/thinking with their permission. In this case, it's a longtime Navy vet who also served as a leader in the mythopoetic men's movement in the 80s and 90s, writing about warrior despair, suicide and the culturally healing power of ritual. This is the first of several pieces on the subject. Look for the others, which will appear shortly. Here goes:

"Perhaps only those who have been to the "Arena of the Gods" -- and have been capable, like the gods, of delivering death and destruction -- can understand the true costs of warfare on the soul.

Jonathan Shay, M.D., Ph.D. writes: 

“Acts of war generate a profound gulf between the combatant and the community he left behind. The veteran carries the taint of a killer, of blood pollution...that many cultures respond to with purification rituals. Our culture today denies the need for purification and provides none, even though in the past it has done so.... In the medieval Christian church, everyone who shed blood in war had to do penance. If you committed atrocities, you had to do more penance, but even if you wore a white hat and were a perfect model of proper conduct, you had to do penance. Most warrior societies, as well as many not dominated by warfare, have historically had communal rites of purification of the returning fighter after battle...” 

An Israeli psychiatrist comments:

"It's important to understand the long-term consequences of war and to minimize them," says Dr. Zahava Solomon, a professor of Psychiatric Epidemiology and Social Work and head of the Adler Research Center for Child Welfare And Protection in Israel. 

“While people tend to perceive war as only taking place on the battlefield," she says, " for many the effects linger long after the battle is over.” "War does not end for a considerable portion of these individuals," she continues, "and relatively high rates of combatants continue to suffer from post-traumatic stress syndrome (PTSD) [an anxiety disorder that can occur following the experience or witnessing of a traumatic life-threatening event]. They continue to experience the war in nightmares and flashbacks. We pretty much liken it to cancer of the soul," she said.

And finally, from a Christian leader's perspective:

 “The reality of war is that everyone gets wounded. Some wounds heal rapidly, but some last for a lifetime. The reality is that the wounds of heart, soul and spirit have a spiritual component that is not being adequately addressed. Despite the valiant efforts of many organizations and the commitment of billions of dollars to address these issues, there remains a serious gap – the faith gap.” -- Major General Robert F. Dees, US Army (Retired), Executive Director, Military Ministry, from his introduction to "The Combat Trauma Healing Manual: Christ-Centered Solutions for Combat Trauma," by Chris Adsit.

A recent article by Barbara Barrett covered the work done by a Defense Department task force "devoted to preventing suicide in the military." According to the article, the task force presented 76 recommendations in four primary areas, and additionally made 13 "foundational" recommendations "considered vital to developing a comprehensive Defense suicide prevention model." But none of these recommendations made any mention of the spirit or the soul, or more importantly, how to heal the souls of our returning warriors. Though our currency may say "In God We Trust," the military makes no acknowledgment of the soul of its warriors, and no provisions for their spiritual healing. 

(Ironically, though, it does send warriors off with ceremony. Troops go into battle often accompanied by a chaplain, priest, or other "holy" person, who invokes a "spirit" to bless them in their mission - which in its own way is usurping their opponents' right to life and death.)  

We lament as a nation that so many of our warriors are committing suicide. But at the same time, we ignore the need for any healing rituals for our returning warriors. There is no balm in Gilead for the sin-sick souls. If we can't look to VA or DOD for methods that embrace ritual, perhaps we need to take a look at indigenous peoples in other cultures, or even a few years back in our own.

In the 80s and 90s in this country, men came together in “mythopoetic gatherings,” doing ritual to help veterans and others heal the soul wounds of the Vietnam war. A sacred space was established and the men used storytelling, poetry, music and movement to explore their path to healing. These gatherings were led by Robert Bly, James Hillman, Michael Meade and others, and I was privileged to be a part of them as an elder.

In some of the gatherings, Meade would tell what was known as a "dilemma story." The men would then choose sides and state their case for the correctness of their positions in an attempt to resolve the dilemma.  The ebb and flow of discussion often became heated. The ritual of the dilemma story became a container to hold the anger and angst of the discussion. Even though there was anger, sadness and confusion, the dilemma story remained in the Sacred Space, a container within a container, which guaranteed safety.

According to Meade, when a large group of men gather, there are two questions that reside in the limbic brain (commonly called the lizard brain). “Is someone going to be killed?” and “Is that someone me?” When the lizard brain is able to resolve these questions in the affirmative, the man could begin to participate in the gathering.

In 1992, Native American medicine men traveled from East coast tribes, Midwest tribes and Western tribes to San Francisco to hold a gathering of men. Those men, many of them veterans, participated in ritual alongside these medicine men, using rituals the medicine men brought from their tribal cultures. During this time as well, there were stories of an increasing number of veterans committing suicide. 

The returning warriors from the Vietnam war had fought in combat as a tribe, but then were returned "unceremoniously" stateside, rotated out individually, when their service was ended or when they were discharged -- to no fanfare whatsoever, and to a land that had become different since they left. Little if any attention was paid toward establishing a ceremony, much less a ritual, to help the souls of these warriors, women and men. And the results of this neglectful in-action are still evident in our society. The Vietnam war is a gaping wound in our collective consciousness, and the residual guilt has become one of the reasons why returning OIF/OEF warriors are being welcomed slightly more warmly than their Vietnam war fathers were.

One of the prominent medicine men who helped to establish sacred space and ritualize a healing process was Malidoma Somé. In his book, “Ritual: Power, Healing and Community,” he recounts a ritual done specifically for healing the internal wounds of Vietnam.

As a participant in that ritual, I recently revisited Malidoma’s writings, and the grief that was expressed. While as one of the Elders of the Gathering, I can say that is was one of the most powerful moments in my life. It is my feeling now, that those of us in a leadership role, did not realize the depth of grief men had about the war, and it transferred into the ritual. I believe every man in that gathering went away with a deep knowledge of how powerful ritual is."

Quotable Quotes -- Lindsay Wagner on Looking Within to Heal

"A lot of people say they want to get out of pain, and I'm sure that's true, but they aren't willing to make healing a high priority. They aren't willing to look inside to see the source of their pain in order to deal with it." -- Lindsay Wagner, American actress and activist.

Quotable Quotes -- Sarah Haley, M.S.W., on Combat's Effect on the Veteran

"Combat veterans may play down or embellish their 'war stories,' but initially their reports should be taken at face value. The only report that should not be accepted at face value, although one may choose not to challenge it initially, is the patient's report that combat in Vietnam had no effect on him." -- Sarah Haley, M.S.W., "When the Patient Reports Atrocities: Specific Treatment Considerations of the Vietnam Veteran," published in Archives of General Psychiatry, Vol. 30, Feb. 1974.

Guilty Giving, "The Whiny F'N Wounded," and the Lost Art of Saying "Thank You"

Generosity is great -- and for the most part, people don't give enough when it comes to veterans, and injured veterans in particular. But as with every good thing, there's always a shadow side, too. And giving to veterans is no exception.

On the one hand, there are service organizations and comfortably well-off do-gooders who shower injured veterans with goodies, like they'd won some sort of service-related jackpot. Flat-screen televisions, electronics, boating and fishing trips, new vans, bowling outings -- and I'm just thinking of what I know has happened locally. Scratch below the surface though and you sometimes find a bit of a guilty giver. One generous soul who's supported local veterans generously tells a tale of neglecting his own brother, a veteran, when his brother came back from Vietnam. Sure his brother was "screwed up," but the businessman in question never knew what to make of it, and so ignored him -- until decades later, PTSD was in the news and he realized what his brother's problem had been, all those years ago. Now, in a bid to offset the past and right that balance, the businessman makes sure to give generously to the young vets coming back. Generous? Yes. Mixed motivation? Definitely...

For a more interesting take on the after-injury "jackpot," though, we turn to one impressive injured former Marine, who I got to know years ago, after he was blown up in Iraq. He lost both his legs in an IED explosion, but came back strong, married his girlfriend, had two sons, and is remarkably now also back at work. Truly a success story, but pulling from a well of character that he's had all along. He's also been the beneficiary himself of some truly great "goodies" -- fly-fishing trips, shooting trips, and most recently, an adaptive home built for him and his family from the A+ organization, Homes for Our Troops. In this article, the former Marine talks frankly about vets who take do-gooding for granted, sink into entitlement, and fail to remember that a gift is just that. The F-bombs fly, but his talk is straight and to the point. Enjoy. (Used with permission.)

---

"This has been eating at me... THE WHINY F'N WOUNDED!!!

It was a problem when I was at Walter Reed and it still continues to be a problem today. No matter how much I have been exposed to it I cannot and will not ever get used to it. Fucking whiny entitled veterans. 

First off, as a Vet myself, I am obviously not talking about all veterans. Just the special few who feel they deserve so much that they feel the need to whine, bitch, and complain to anyone who will listen about what they aren't getting from the Government, VA, etc. Most of my friends who are wounded will recognize these types immediately and know what I am talking about. They are those vets who are so self-centered that they can only focus on themselves and their own well-being. Blatantly forgetting to say "thank you" or shake the hands of those who have helped them along the way to recovery post-injury.

And that is where it starts really, maybe the veteran said "thank you" in the beginning. But people suddenly start telling them, "No, don't thank me, thank you." And they hear it so much they begin to believe it. I firmly believe that when you stop saying "thank you" when someone does something for you, you lose part of your humanity, you start to believe that you are better than everyone else. They get the feeling that they are "above the law," and deserve to have things done for them without a thank you. 

Before you say, "Well, we don't have wounded warriors like that!" Bullshit we don't, ask someone who works with wounded vets on a regular basis, they will tell you horror stories about entitled vets, and vets trying to screw over nonprofit groups. The military is already NOT the home of the "best and brightest,"I would say the ratio is for every four good veterans you have one scumbag -- that's 20%. Some may disagree and say its more like 10%, but I like to remind them of all the DUI's, drug pops, UA's, etc that most units have on a weekly basis. Its far greater than regular society. (Except for maybe where I grew up.) 

Our military hospital system, specifically dealing with Walter Reed and BAMC, are breeding grounds for this problem. Wounded vets are showered with gifts, celebrity visits, trips, etc. And being given this special treatment so regularly it goes to their heads. They start expecting special treatment, they stop saying thank you, and bitch and complain when they don't get special treatment. It's a sad system really, people want to help the vets out so much they end up actually hindering them socially. At WR we called it the "Hollywood" effect, and not only does it affect the veterans it affects their families as well. 

Most of the time it's wives, but it does affect other family members occasionally. But I will focus on wives, because actually, they are the worst. They actually become more entitled than their veteran husbands. Why, you ask? Because all of the focus is on the veteran, ALL of the time. They are the ones who get the trips, gifts, privileges, even if the wives get to participate. So the wives are left out, and soak in any of the attention they receive. It's sad really, there should be more support for the wives, because it creates monsters. The ones who bombard their husbands' doctors and therapists with questions, to an overbearing degree. They chew out people who are trying to help them, and have the phone numbers for senator's or general's offices and actually use them to get their way. 

And when we get our little blue ID and become retired the same problems continue, but now it involves MONEY. The root of all evil, right? That check from the VA and Social Security Disability is great, but they want more (Don't feel bad for us, my annual disability is more than my parents made when I was a kid, its also non-taxable and for life.). They still want special treatment, above the normal benefits. They want more benefits not already in place. They want things to happen right now in a bureaucracy that is not a right now system. And because it won't happen, they turn to bitching. 

These veterans and their wives start bitching, and they don't stop, they dominate conversation with their bitching, even if it's unrelated to the current conversation. They bring up money and benefits constantly, and how they aren't getting as much as they want. They are downers and attention whores in the highest degree, especially annoying those of us who are just thankful to have what we have and that people give a shit about us at all. 

My frustrations boil down to this, what veterans are entitled to, and special treatment. Veterans are entitled to have their health care taken care of, they are entitled to education and job benefits, they are entitled just compensation for their (sometimes grievous) injuries, and for the more severely disabled, they are entitled benefits that allow for their mobility. Anything more than that is special treatment. And these veterans think they are entitled to special treatment, I will be the first to say, they absolutely are not. People choose to do nice things for us, out of the goodness of their hearts. And some just don't deserve that special treatment, just because they are an injured vet doesn't mean they are a good person. 

I will try and bring this to a close. I may get frustrated and complain about the VA, mostly because I put very little faith in their ability to do anything right the first time. Especially considering the mental health treatment vets are receiving (18 American Veterans commit suicide every day). But I also know that at least we have a country that does care. We have the best VA system in the world. And if you don't believe it, look up what wounded veterans from Canada and the UK go through, and what little benefits they receive if any at all. 

And I haven't forgotten to say thank you, I make every effort to do so when someone does something nice for me, from holding a door to my annual trip to Camp Perry. I can't not say thank you, its just not in me. And when someone says "Don't thank me", I kindly remind them that to not say thank you would be wrong on my behalf. Because after all, they didn't have to lend a hand, they chose to. 

I am so thankful for all of the support and assistance that myself and my family have received from all over. The VA, nonprofits, and individuals, have helped us so much over the years, and I can never thank people enough. I just wish that all veterans were as thankful as I am. It really embarrasses me having to deal with people like that.

...OK, I feel better now.... "

---

Editor's note: If you want to give you can always donate to us! We're using it to build a program to treat combat vets with PTSD with integrative medicine, and we promise to say "thank you" :-) Click here to donate, or contact us directly. Thank you.

National Suicide Prevention Week, Sept. 5-11, 2010

Check back here; we'll be posting more details and resources later. Thank you.

 

The Sacred Brotherhood -- and Sisterhood -- of Those Who Understand

We read a few days ago Larry Heinemann's excellent quote about veterans after combat "carrying the darkness with us," linked here. And yesterday, in "War Creates Brothers," we learned about an historic gathering, a sacred ceremony of sorts, where Vietnam veterans like Heinemann met with Russian Afghansti veterans, at least a decade younger, and shared their stories with one another, bonding in the wet blood of brotherhood (and sisterhood, because it now applies to women veterans as well) from war. (That piece is linked here.) Now we synthesize the two together, with a quote from the article Heinemann wrote in 1989 in a national magazine, describing both the gathering mentioned above (lightly), and a much more extensive retelling of what the same Vietnam veterans' trip to Russia to meet with the Afghansti initially was like, a few months before.

Heinemann describes at great length the similarities and the bonds among the men that were formed, and tells the story of how the Russian veterans became involved in their own war in Afghanistan, leaving generally bruised and beaten "after nine years and 15,000 dead." Much of the article focuses on the stories of the Afghansti veterans they met in Russia, the grief of the devastated families of those who'd served, and the generalized indifference of the Russian government -- all of which he can compare, to one degree or another, to situations in our own country, after Vietnam. (As an aside, the bureaucracy of the VA seems to stand in for that of the Russian government in his analogy.)

As clearly as he paints the picture of the Russian veterans' suffering, and how it's mirrored in our own, one of the strongest descriptions he suggests is why the veterans on both sides of the conversation, separated by decades and culture, are nevertheless able to bond so strongly, through telling stories about their experiences, horrific and otherwise. This is the same principle we've been alluding to recently in the series about ritual, and the unburdening that can come from individual warriors when they meet up with one another, and have the safe "container" in which to share their suffering, confusion and grief. Here's Heinemann's remarkable quote:

"These stories and many others, came forward because the Afghansti finally had someone in their midst -- as we surely did not two decades ago [returning from Vietnam] -- who knew what they were talking about. We were fellow soldiers who could listen to the madness and know they were not mad; someone who could validate their worst blood-bath nightmares; someone who had an inkling of the brutality they had endured and inflicted; someone whom they could trust with stories about the deadest, darkest places in their hearts." -- Larry Heinemann.

Circling back around to Heinemann's earlier quote, mentioned a few days ago, we read in this article that it comes at the end of a longer declaration. As food for thought, I now include the full paragraph, in case it now adds fuller context, in light of the above.

"The Afghansti have caused a great many people a great deal of grief and have themselves suffered -- for a lie, let us not forget -- the same was we in the United States have caused much suffering in Southeast Asia, and have also suffered much in return, also for a lie. It was no small betrayal, no small lesson for a man to learn at the age of 19. Any soldier returning home must rediscover his humanity and establish a livable peace with the discovered, liberated, permanently dark places in his own heart --the darkness that is always with us."

"War Creates Brothers" -- U.S., Afghansti Vets Share Stories, Bond Together

A recent quote from the inimitable Dalai Lama: "To the extent that our experience of suffering reminds us of what everyone else also endures, it serves as a powerful inspiration to practice compassion and avoid causing others pain. And to the extent that suffering awakens our empathy and causes us to connect with others, it serves as the basis of compassion and love."

We've written on the site before about how combat vets "get" what other combat vets go through, and how they share that "wet bond of blood" brotherhood, here and here and many other places as well. (There's even something about it from the Civil War era, here; as well as Ernie Pyle, superstar war correspondent who "got" it, exemplifying it and communicating it from the boys on the front to the families back home, here.) We've started writing lately about "ritual" as a way that "primitive" societies, including sometimes our own, ceremonially bring back in the warrior from the war, embraced by his or her community. The work of Malidoma Somé is impressive as heck; but there are others shortly to speak on this as well, including other veterans who understand it and have lived it, and now want to share it with others.

But if we really want to envision the extent of what the Dalai Lama quote, above, embodies, let's take a look at a cross-cultural, multinational gathering of hard-core combat veterans from more than a decade ago. 

“War Creates Brothers”

U.S., Soviet vets share pasts on Peninsula

By Kevin Patterson

Peninsula Daily Times

Port Angeles – Larry Heinemann doesn’t know the word’s Russian spelling; Igor Zakharov doesn’t speak the English translation. But the word “brat,” which sounds like “brot,” instantly brings the two men together in a shoulder-shaking hug.

“My brat, my brother,” Heinemann explains.

There is much that should separate the two men. Heinemann is 45, an award-winning author, a Vietnam veteran.

Zakharov is 25. A machinist. An Afghansti – a Soviet military veteran who served in Afghanistan.

But they sat side-by-side on a rough cedar-plank bench, sharing American cigarettes and talking about coming home from war. Brothers. Soldiers. Grunts.

American “grunts,” G.I. slang for the everyday soldier, have been coming to this place west of the Elwa River for most of the 1980s. Counselor Bruce Webster has gained national prominence for his role in helping Vietnam veterans re-live their war experiences and confront memories that torment them.

Last weekend, Webster’s beachfront back yard ... became a bivouac for Vietnam vets and a handful of Russian veterans and counselors. It was more fruit from a budding relationship borne of war and government indifference to its warriors.

Heinemann and Zakharov met last December, when a group of Vietnam veterans toured the Soviet Union. Their mission was to make contact with Afghansti , while shunning official government representatives. [Heinemann wrote about his visit in a recent issue of a national magazine.]

“Our welcome by the Afghansti – perhaps 30 men in their early and middle 20s – was profuse, prolonged and astonishingly friendly: hand-shakes and warm smiles and immediate conversation,” Heinemann wrote.

Heinemann said the Vietnam vets saw a lot of ourselves in the young Russian veterans. It is a bond that transcends differences in language, culture and politics.

Afghanistan is often referred to as the Soviets’ Vietnam. It was a part-time war waged in a distant land for ill-defined reasons.

Soviet soldiers who fought in Afghanistan came home to discover that most people did not understand what the army was doing there. The government-controlled news media reported that troops in Afghanistan were there as advisers or to build public works.

Until 1985, soldiers killed in action were sent home in zinc coffins to be buried in secret, Heinemann said. Families often did not know how or where their sons died.

“They call it the false face of welcome,” Heinemann explained. “One man we met said his son might as well have been killed in a bar fight, for all he knew.”

The Vietnam veteran has faced an uphill struggle to win recognition of the scars left by the war. Post-traumatic stress disorder – PTSD – is the living monument to men who fought a senseless war against an enemy who played by different rules.

Heinemann knows about PTSD. His novel, “Paco's Story,” won the 1987 National Book Award. It was a fictional account of a Vietnam vet struggling with PTSD.

Help for veterans has been slow. Complaints about the U.S. government’s response to Vietnam vets are common. So are stories of Vietnam veterans wracked by the awful psychological after-effects of war. People’s understanding of what the war did to some of the soldiers is still evolving.

The Soviet veterans now grapple with some of the same problems, including a government indifference to their needs, Heinemann said. Their 10-year war ended in February, about 16 years after U.S. troops began pulling out of Vietnam.

Heinemann said Vietnam vets know some of what lies ahead for the Afghansti.

“I think that the Afghansti have a chance to save themselves a lot of grief, learning from our mistakes,” Heinemann said. “That’s why I wanted to bring them out here.”

Zakharov sat next to his American comrade, listening to a foreign language and struggling to answer a reporter’s questions.

He served two years in Afghanistan, the usual length of service for Soviet troops. He used a stick to draw 1982-1984, his time in Afghanistan, in the sand and sawdust of the outdoor conversation pit.

Heinemann said Zakharov was with an airborne unit. He was a minesweeper, whose job was to probe for landmines. His navy blue and white –striped undershirt, standard issue for airborne troops, mostly hid the scar he carries from a bullet wound to his left shoulder.

On his right wrist is a red band. The name of a U.S.  Army sergeant, killed in Vietnam, is inscribed there. It’s a memento of his visit to the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington, D.C.

“These are great guys,” Heinemann said. “They’re young and they’re tough and they’ve been through the mill.”

Reprinted with permission of the Peninsula Daily News.