President Obama's decision to call upon General David Petraeus to take the helm as the top U.S. commander in Afghanistan looks like a political and strategic stroke of brilliance.
It is history in the making.
But it is also history that will ultimately be the judge of this dramatic and surprising decision to sack General Stanley McChrystal and once again offer the reins and responsibility of commanding troops at a pivotal moment in a war that is faltering to General Petraeus.
Politically, it allows Obama to show leadership and strength in stripping McChrystal of command for his poor conduct in the comments he made to Rolling Stone magazine in its cover story titled "The Runaway General."
Strategically, it gives the administration the ability to show a stable command as the Kandahar campaign against the Taliban gets underway.
But perhaps most importantly, this decision will be applauded by troops in the field who see Petraeus as a genuine American hero. It will defy the cynical military axiom of "different spanks, for different ranks."
This time, a big general got "spanked" just like any other grunt or staff sergeant who showed conduct that eroded the trust of the military.
And that will go over big with the service men and women who are risking their lives in a war that has dragged on for nine years and that has called upon them to make extraordinary sacrifices.
As Obama put it, "War is bigger than any one man or woman. … Conduct represented in the recent article does not meet the standard of a commanding general. … It erodes the trust that is necessary for our team to work together to achieve our objectives in Afghanistan."
For sure the decision is getting positive reviews, at least in these early hours. And Petraeus is likely to be quickly confirmed by the U.S. Senate and soon be on his way back to Afghanistan and back into the field as top U.S. commander as he was in Iraq, where he led the effort through the crucial — and by most accounts successful — moment of the Baghdad surge.
But what this decision also offers is a dramatic difference in personality and style of leadership between Petraeus and McChrystal. That difference was starkly illustrated in the uproar over the Rolling Stone article.
The comments that McChrystal, a former head of special forces and a maverick field commander, and his aids made to the magazine were reckless. And that is always the flip side of a maverick's coin even one with as distinguished a career as McChrystal has had.
If McChrystal is reckless, Petraeus is measured. If McChrystal is a maverick known for being both brilliant and blunt, Petraeus quietly asserts leadership and affects change from within. McChrystal is known for mixing sprints in with a strict running regime which is followed up without a meal so he "stays hungry," as the legend goes. Petraeus is a marathoner who understands the need for small intake of nutrition throughout the day if he's going to go the distance. If McChrystal reads Rolling Stone, Petraeus prefers Thucydides.
So what might this difference in leadership style mean in the direction the war in Afghanistan? That is the looming question now.
What Petraeus brings to this war is discipline and an understanding of history. Both of these are needed right now in a moment where the U.S. effort is failing.
The Rolling Stone article highlights not just some off-the-cuff remarks by McChrystal that got him in trouble, it reveals a dangerous fault line between the U.S. State Department and the Pentagon over the direction and goals of the war. That division between civilian and military strategy is real and it is important and how Petraeus will bridge the divide remains to be seen.
I first met Petraeus in the spring of 2003 when he was commanding the 101st Airborne Division just after he had executed a massive and successful air assault on northern Iraq. It put him on the map, and soon he would obtain a kind of rock star status, eventually landing on the cover of Newsweek. The rest, as they say, is history.
When Petraeus briefly fainted at hearings in Washington earlier this month it was a scary and out-of-character moment for those who have gotten to know him. He has incredible stamina and the episode may indeed have occurred because, as he claimed, he was simply dehydrated. But Petraeus is also a survivor of prostate cancer and his health and his ability to take on the grueling task of running the war in Afghanistan is indeed an "extraordinary sacrifice," as President Obama noted, for the man and his family. Still his health and ability to carry out this task will no doubt be raised in the hearings.
But the more important matter will be what changes, if any, Petraeus will want to bring to the table in Afghanistan.
Even if Petraeus is known for quiet diplomacy, it should be remembered that Petraeus also had profound disagreements with the George W. Bush White House and with Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld in particular. The disagreements were never visible to reporters when they happened, but they have since come to the surface, according to insiders who were there.
In a nutshell, Petraeus believed Rumsfeld was wrong about troop levels in Iraq and asserted that they were insufficient and he also quietly criticized the wisdom — or lack of it, as he saw it — of the so-called "de-Baathification" of the Iraqi military. In the chaotic aftermath of the collapse of Saddam Hussein's Baath Party regime, "de-Baathification" was the process of going after and jailing the Iraqi military leadership rather than seeking to bring them into the process of building a future Iraq.
That policy and the delay in calling for a troop surge are both viewed as significant and costly mistakes in the U.S.-led war in Iraq. Petraeus never voiced them publicly, instead he quietly retreated to a command at Fort Leavenworth and took to gathering the military's best minds on counter-insurgency (COIN) and started writing a new COIN field manual for the troops.
That document became the blueprint for what is now looked back on by most military analysts as a successful surge. That strategy created the stability that allowed Iraq to hold elections and move forward in taking control of its own destiny, a process that's still unfolding.
As the 30,000-U.S. troop surge takes place in Afghanistan and the U.S. braces for a stepped up military campaign in Kandahar this summer, Petraeus might try to redirect that campaign. There are many elements of the design of the counter-insurgency in Kandahar that seem to defy the very COIN manual that Petraeus authored.
What is clear is that Petraeus has a chance to once again write history in the parched, dusty, windblown plains of yet another conflict that is faltering badly as he enters the helm.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Special Ops
AFGHANISTAN: British troops shelter from the controlled explosion of a Taliban device
Monday August 2,2010
By Cyril Dixon Have your say(2)
A crack squad of British special forces is hunting down more than 2,000 key Taliban commanders listed on a “wanted – dead or alive” list.
The elite Special Boat Service commandos are trawling southern Afghanistan with orders to capture the “Tier 1” insurgents, or kill them on sight.
Details of the secret mission emerged among tens of thousands of coalition forces’ documents published by the controversial WikiLeaks website.
The papers include accounts of how specials, including a unit known as Task Force 42, tracked down rebels to hideouts in the wilderness of Helmand province.
One, known as Janan, was then gunned down with two henchmen by an Apache AH-64 helicopter summoned to the scene by the ground troops. It also emerged yesterday that the British mother of the American military analyst who allegedly leaked the documents had been interrogated at her home in Wales by the FBI.
Susan Manning, 56, was left “severely distressed” after agents attached to the US Embassy in London paid a visit to her home in Haverfordwest, Dyfed. Her 22-year-old son Bradley, a US Army analyst who is half-American, has been charged with leaking defence documents through WikiLeaks.
Yesterday, her sister Sharon Staples told how Susan phoned her to hear her scream in panic down the phone: “They’re here, they’re here.” She said the FBI also visited her own home in nearby Milford Haven, adding: “As soon as I spoke to them and asked them not to stress her out, they backed down.”
The leaked papers give an extraordinary insight into Allied operations in Afghanistan but have infuriated military chiefs. Even before the November 2008 assassination of Janan – No 210 on the list – at a farmhouse in Nad-e-Ali, Task Force 42 had a run of successful strikes.
In the 10 days previously, the task force had killed No 1,473 – real name Mullah Ziauddin, code name Beethoven – near Lashkar Gah. Beethoven had orchestrated roadside bombings across the region and was also linked to the kidnap of 160 Afghan workers in a single month.
SEARCH UK NEWS for:
It also emerged yesterday that the special forces operation has been able to call on the world’s biggest flying artillery gun, the Hercules AC-130.
Dubbed the Angel of Death, because of the shape its anti-missile flares make when fired, it too is being deployed against the top-level Taliban.
One special forces officer said: “The AC-130 really is the ultimate weapon. It is very accurate and simply vaporises the target and sends a powerful psychological message to the enemy.”
US Defence Secretary Robert Gates accused WikiLeaks of undermining coalition forces, in an interview with ABC News. He said: “There are two areas of culpability. One is legal culpability. And that’s up to the Justice Department and others – that’s not my arena.
“But there’s also a moral culpability. And that’s where I think the verdict is ‘guilty’ on WikiLeaks. They have put this out without any regard whatsoever for the consequences.”
Meanwhile yesterday, the latest offensive against the Taliban, Operation Black Prince, was said to be progressing “very well”. Troops from the 1st Battalion, the Duke of Lancaster’s Regiment swarmed into the town of Saidabad under cover of darkness on Friday.
They then cleared compounds and established patrol bases in the area, and on Saturday seized large quantities of roadside bombs and bomb-making equipment.
An MoD spokesman said there had been limited contact with the insurgents, and no British casualties.
Monday August 2,2010
By Cyril Dixon Have your say(2)
A crack squad of British special forces is hunting down more than 2,000 key Taliban commanders listed on a “wanted – dead or alive” list.
The elite Special Boat Service commandos are trawling southern Afghanistan with orders to capture the “Tier 1” insurgents, or kill them on sight.
Details of the secret mission emerged among tens of thousands of coalition forces’ documents published by the controversial WikiLeaks website.
The papers include accounts of how specials, including a unit known as Task Force 42, tracked down rebels to hideouts in the wilderness of Helmand province.
One, known as Janan, was then gunned down with two henchmen by an Apache AH-64 helicopter summoned to the scene by the ground troops. It also emerged yesterday that the British mother of the American military analyst who allegedly leaked the documents had been interrogated at her home in Wales by the FBI.
Susan Manning, 56, was left “severely distressed” after agents attached to the US Embassy in London paid a visit to her home in Haverfordwest, Dyfed. Her 22-year-old son Bradley, a US Army analyst who is half-American, has been charged with leaking defence documents through WikiLeaks.
Yesterday, her sister Sharon Staples told how Susan phoned her to hear her scream in panic down the phone: “They’re here, they’re here.” She said the FBI also visited her own home in nearby Milford Haven, adding: “As soon as I spoke to them and asked them not to stress her out, they backed down.”
The leaked papers give an extraordinary insight into Allied operations in Afghanistan but have infuriated military chiefs. Even before the November 2008 assassination of Janan – No 210 on the list – at a farmhouse in Nad-e-Ali, Task Force 42 had a run of successful strikes.
In the 10 days previously, the task force had killed No 1,473 – real name Mullah Ziauddin, code name Beethoven – near Lashkar Gah. Beethoven had orchestrated roadside bombings across the region and was also linked to the kidnap of 160 Afghan workers in a single month.
SEARCH UK NEWS for:
It also emerged yesterday that the special forces operation has been able to call on the world’s biggest flying artillery gun, the Hercules AC-130.
Dubbed the Angel of Death, because of the shape its anti-missile flares make when fired, it too is being deployed against the top-level Taliban.
One special forces officer said: “The AC-130 really is the ultimate weapon. It is very accurate and simply vaporises the target and sends a powerful psychological message to the enemy.”
US Defence Secretary Robert Gates accused WikiLeaks of undermining coalition forces, in an interview with ABC News. He said: “There are two areas of culpability. One is legal culpability. And that’s up to the Justice Department and others – that’s not my arena.
“But there’s also a moral culpability. And that’s where I think the verdict is ‘guilty’ on WikiLeaks. They have put this out without any regard whatsoever for the consequences.”
Meanwhile yesterday, the latest offensive against the Taliban, Operation Black Prince, was said to be progressing “very well”. Troops from the 1st Battalion, the Duke of Lancaster’s Regiment swarmed into the town of Saidabad under cover of darkness on Friday.
They then cleared compounds and established patrol bases in the area, and on Saturday seized large quantities of roadside bombs and bomb-making equipment.
An MoD spokesman said there had been limited contact with the insurgents, and no British casualties.
War Stories
Junior Member Join Date:Feb 2010
Posts:4 "In war there are no unwounded soldiers."
The heat, dust, loneliness and frustration, worry, lack of sleep and fear all play over and over in my mind like a maddening commercial looped for eternity. The endless nights on guard just watching, waiting for the stillness to be shattered by the sounds of gunfire and explosions can be maddening. You start wanting it to happen, willing it to happen and when it doesn’t your left empty and drained. The constant vigilance feels like slow bleeding…you wonder how far you can go and survive. How much more can I take and still be the man who left America and my family just months ago. Has it been that long? I feel so old and tired. It’s as though the very act of touching the soil draws the life slowly out of you with each step.
With the end of my tour in the Stan nearing what once seemed so intangible and far away may now becomes a reality. That day, that moment that will bring so many lonely hearts together in one place seems almost unimaginable. I have thought about that day in so many different ways it can be, at times, a source of maddening distraction.
Now the realization is that this last flight will be over and you won’t be going back to the places that caused so much pain and longing can be hard to fathom. I have watched my children grow in pictures and heard my daughter say her first words over a static filled satellite phone from eight thousand miles away. My son speaks in complete sentences now, always asking me how my soldiers are and if the there are any bad guys near. I wonder what I will tell him of this war when he grows older. What I can tell him about the things his Father has done to survive.
Will they understand? Will they be able to see the man who left a year ago is still here inside?
How will I react to those who are so blissfully ignorant to the war and all its obscenities of violence? Will I resent them for their apathy or will I understand that I am the one who’s changed and react accordingly? The nature of this conflict with its landmines and lightning attacks has kept us in a perpetual state of vigilance with explosive moments of adrenalin and despair. The Army gave me the Purple Heart award for injuries in battle but what do you get for wounds of the soul?
Being my second time deployed to war zone did not make it any easier to adapt at surviving on the home front. My wife has had to work and raise our children without a Dad for a year and a half and during those dark moments alone after the children have gone to sleep she wonders if I’m safe.
How has this war changed her?
I remember one of my first firefights where I was so fuckin mad at them for slinging rounds at me for months, waiting for the floor to explode under my feet and not being able to return fire because of civilians in the area or we were unable to positively identify a target that the act of squeezing that trigger and hearing those rounds hammering the enemy and seeing them fall was more exciting and more rewarding than your first porn film.
War, by its very nature, sometimes allows too much time in between the missions for deep thinking. If you dive too deeply into the pool of your own emotion you may never reach the surface again and find yourself descending into the darkness. And it is madness you see. This wafer thin veneer of societal normalcy we carry like a child’s cardboard shield will not ward off the ugliness and savagery of those to wish to destroy you.
In some ways I guess I was kinda lucky. My initiation into the suffering and death of others was gradual enough to give me some time to build up mental defenses but there never is enough time is there?
I know this; I will not allow this experience to shade the rest of my life with bitter angst. Being older this time I hope I have gained the wisdom to accept the path that has led me to the door I must now open and know I will be stronger for it. I have taken all the men under my command and returned them safely to their loved ones and I have prayed for the fallen.
God bless this rag-tag bunch of misfits I call my soldiers and God bless America the one true beacon of hope in this world.
This story is a recollection of my time and duty serving in Afghanistan. I have tried to be as honest and true to the events as they happened using my notes and columns I had written but as usual my minds eye sees things differently than others. All the quotes used are from my memory and therefore may be remembered differently from another’s perspective.
Posts:4 "In war there are no unwounded soldiers."
The heat, dust, loneliness and frustration, worry, lack of sleep and fear all play over and over in my mind like a maddening commercial looped for eternity. The endless nights on guard just watching, waiting for the stillness to be shattered by the sounds of gunfire and explosions can be maddening. You start wanting it to happen, willing it to happen and when it doesn’t your left empty and drained. The constant vigilance feels like slow bleeding…you wonder how far you can go and survive. How much more can I take and still be the man who left America and my family just months ago. Has it been that long? I feel so old and tired. It’s as though the very act of touching the soil draws the life slowly out of you with each step.
With the end of my tour in the Stan nearing what once seemed so intangible and far away may now becomes a reality. That day, that moment that will bring so many lonely hearts together in one place seems almost unimaginable. I have thought about that day in so many different ways it can be, at times, a source of maddening distraction.
Now the realization is that this last flight will be over and you won’t be going back to the places that caused so much pain and longing can be hard to fathom. I have watched my children grow in pictures and heard my daughter say her first words over a static filled satellite phone from eight thousand miles away. My son speaks in complete sentences now, always asking me how my soldiers are and if the there are any bad guys near. I wonder what I will tell him of this war when he grows older. What I can tell him about the things his Father has done to survive.
Will they understand? Will they be able to see the man who left a year ago is still here inside?
How will I react to those who are so blissfully ignorant to the war and all its obscenities of violence? Will I resent them for their apathy or will I understand that I am the one who’s changed and react accordingly? The nature of this conflict with its landmines and lightning attacks has kept us in a perpetual state of vigilance with explosive moments of adrenalin and despair. The Army gave me the Purple Heart award for injuries in battle but what do you get for wounds of the soul?
Being my second time deployed to war zone did not make it any easier to adapt at surviving on the home front. My wife has had to work and raise our children without a Dad for a year and a half and during those dark moments alone after the children have gone to sleep she wonders if I’m safe.
How has this war changed her?
I remember one of my first firefights where I was so fuckin mad at them for slinging rounds at me for months, waiting for the floor to explode under my feet and not being able to return fire because of civilians in the area or we were unable to positively identify a target that the act of squeezing that trigger and hearing those rounds hammering the enemy and seeing them fall was more exciting and more rewarding than your first porn film.
War, by its very nature, sometimes allows too much time in between the missions for deep thinking. If you dive too deeply into the pool of your own emotion you may never reach the surface again and find yourself descending into the darkness. And it is madness you see. This wafer thin veneer of societal normalcy we carry like a child’s cardboard shield will not ward off the ugliness and savagery of those to wish to destroy you.
In some ways I guess I was kinda lucky. My initiation into the suffering and death of others was gradual enough to give me some time to build up mental defenses but there never is enough time is there?
I know this; I will not allow this experience to shade the rest of my life with bitter angst. Being older this time I hope I have gained the wisdom to accept the path that has led me to the door I must now open and know I will be stronger for it. I have taken all the men under my command and returned them safely to their loved ones and I have prayed for the fallen.
God bless this rag-tag bunch of misfits I call my soldiers and God bless America the one true beacon of hope in this world.
This story is a recollection of my time and duty serving in Afghanistan. I have tried to be as honest and true to the events as they happened using my notes and columns I had written but as usual my minds eye sees things differently than others. All the quotes used are from my memory and therefore may be remembered differently from another’s perspective.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Our men are living in Hell.
Do you think the Afghan war is what we, as Americans, need to be spending billions upon billions of our tax dollars on? If you really believe that then I commend you for, at the least, defending something. I, however, believe it is a waste of time, money, and the most precious of all; our young men in uniform. Please read these posts delivered to me from those who serve. Our society is headed for destruction. You have the power to change it. No, not by putting those Republicans in charge. They are the worst of the wosrst. They will spend our country bankrupt and not apologize for it. Just ask Mrs. Sherrod. Did she get an apology? No. The republicans do not have a clue as to what can be done. No. No. No.That is all you will get from them. It is sad. Pray for the USofA.
Death IS knocking
Inside an Afghan battle gone wrong (VII): What it tells us about the Afghan war
Posted By Thomas E. Ricks Monday, February 2, 2009 - 8:04 PM Share
A friend who has read this series on the small but deadly battle at Wanat last summer suggested that we should consider one more issue-that is, what this incident might tell us about the war in Afghanistan.
I think the insights of this infantry veteran, who must remain anonymous because of his position, are important. Let him explain:
We are so very exposed in this land-locked...
This article has been archived. To continue reading, you must first log in.
If you already have an account on our website, click here to log in.
If you do not have an account, click here to create one.
Note: If you created your account before June 2009 you may need to create a new one.
EXPLORE:AFGHANISTAN, WANAT SHARE THIS ARTICLE: Facebook|Twitter|Reddit
You might like:
Wanat: What the families want (IV) - By Tom RIcks (The Best Defense )
Inside an Afghan battle gone wrong (V): Neglecting the misgivings of those given the mission (The Best Defense )
Afghans Can Win This War - By Yahya Massoud (Foreign Policy)
Lots of Leaks -- But Where Are the Bombshells? | Shadow Government (Shadow Government )
Obama Is 0 for 4
On Foreign Policy
Who Will Be the Next Secretary of Defense?
The Circus Comes
To Pakistan
Could Mr. WikiLeaks Go to Prison?
(15)HIDE COMMENTS LOGIN OR REGISTER REPORT ABUSE
RUBBER DUCKY
12:53 AM ET
February 3, 2009
Iragq vs Afghanistan
Tom-
Great posting.
Can't help reflecting that blame here goes to the very top, to commander in chief. Impression: Army and Administration focus on Iraq loaded up that zone with people and gear. Promotions flowed/flow, as did/does money. Strong infrastructure, strong emphasis on force protection, every effort to optimize success. In contrast, Afghan campaign waged on the cheap, few promotions, little in way of gear or support compared to Iraq, and little interest or effort to deal with the pol part of pol-mil in the region.
Making Wanat victim of our profound blunder in grand strategy and the ready acceptance by Army of the easier path. If we're learning lessons, let's study the corporate Army's top-level performance since first into Afghanistan.
RUBBER DUCKY
12:52 AM ET
February 3, 2009
Iragq vs Afghanistan
Double posting - my bad.
GIAN P GENTILE
12:31 PM ET
February 3, 2009
what is your point?
Tom:
What is your point, or baseline criticism, in these postings?
What becomes clear from these reports, which you have yet to acknowledge, is that the Army has in fact learned and had ingrained into them the principles of pop-centric Counterinsurgency; an approach that you have been a huge advocate of in your writings over the past three years. In fact the report shows that the platoon and its higher headquarters were doing their damndest to follow those principles of population security, via living amongst the people even when it put them at tactical risk. I recall that one of the paradoxes of Coin as written in FM 3-24 says something like sometimes the more you protect yourself the less secure you are!! Well, can’t we acknowledge that that was exactly the principle these men were following?
It seems that you want it both ways. That you demand an Army that is transformed around the Coin principles of Galula; OK, you got that at Wanat. But then on the other hand when the Army has made that conversion you mire yourself down into the tactical details of the engagement but fail to acknowledge that at least demonstrated by the actions at Wanat the Army has become the Army that you seem to desire; aka the "Surge" Army. David Galula would have accepted what happened at Wanat as the price of doing business in population-centric Coin, why can’t you?
OLD BLUE
3:33 AM ET
February 9, 2009
Two-tailed COIN
Had this been an exercise of all-around COIN, the local government and the only national governmental entity on-site, the ANP, would have been actively engaged.
Active engagement of the ANP would have involved, first, a comprehensive district assessment including in inspection of the facilities (that means the arms room, too.) The leadership would have been evaluated, including their reliability. Biographical information would have been gathered; education, history, all of that stuff. Pictures would have been taken of the facilities and a sketch as well. The overabundance of weapons would have been apparent and red flags would have gone up all over the place.
The excess weapons would have been removed as well.
An investigation and interrogations would have followed immediately. Out of 20 ANP, there was likely a talker in the bunch. This may have blown the AAF plan to overrun the VPB. The removal of the weapons would surely have hampered the attack.
None of this was done.
Galula never advocated moving into an area and trying to engage the populace independent of the governmental agencies present. In COIN, the job is to make the government more legitimate, not supplant them. There were governmental security personnel in the area; but they were bad, and the only note on this early in the report (detailing the events leading up to the attack) is that they neglected to inform the Rock element of a Shura.
It was attempted COIN, perhaps, but there was no one to really engage the only local armed government force in the area. Doing this is an essential part of COIN.
This in no way takes away from the actions of the platoon. Engaging the ANP to the degree needed was simply not part of their job. There are special teams that are trained in this, but they were not available. You can bet that they were also not requested. It wasn't the platoon who failed in engaging the ANP.
This was a maneuver force-only attempt at pop-centric COIN and ignored some very basic principles of COIN. This is not a shining example of COIN done right that ended tragically. If anything, it is an example of men put into a situation without the tools needed to successfully engage the local governmental agencies that were in place already. The demonstration in the 15-6 that the ANP were complicit in the attack proves that this was a fatal mistake.
The fact that the 15-6 fails to identify this lack of appraisal of the local ANP while noting their complicity in the attack indicates that the Army that supposedly is so proficient at COIN didn't even recognize this key failure.
This was not what Galula would have done, nor would he have accepted this as the natural result of COIN done well.
TOM RICKS
3:38 PM ET
February 3, 2009
Gian's question
Gian,
Thanks for reading the blog.
My point is to look at a series of questions about this small action. Many of those questions are raised by the Army's own 15-6 report.
Some of the questions have to do with counterinsurgency, and many do not. Yes, I do think that there is some evidence that the battalion was trying to use some principles of counterinsurgency, but there also is evidence that they were doing so incompletely, or even haphazardly, without a full grasp of the COIN approach, and probably without enough troops to do it.
I also think there are questions that go well beyond doctrine. Whatever the mission was, did they have enough people and resources to do it? Is this incident emblematic of the undersupported war in eastern Afghanistan?
Best,
Tom Ricks
ROCKPARATROOPER
3:58 AM ET
February 4, 2009
Damned if you Do - Damned if you Don't
6
STEVE JONES
6:00 AM ET
February 5, 2009
Keep writing
RockParatrooper, I'm sorry to see you removed your comments. Frankly, I thought they were the best part of this article. I hope you kept copies for yourself, at least.
Keep writing. For yourself, for posting, for publication, whatever. Just keep writing.
THAYNE
3:43 PM ET
February 5, 2009
Agreed
Agreed. A lot of opinion and speculation here. RP's comments were factual and enlightening.
WALKING WOUNDED
8:13 PM ET
February 5, 2009
a Waygul sort of war
Everyone in this string seems comforable with the redacted 15-6 'we was set up' narrative. Mr. Ricks called Wanat "an ambush".
The 'sudden' appearance of well led and potentially overwhelming enemy at VPB Wanat seems something of a brigade command excuse. If you accept the 'every Wanat building damaged, but no civilian casualties' part at face value, then villagers ought to have been seen leaving, with elderly, children and animals, bedding, food. My guess is that the Wanat OP reported such observations, and they were passed back to battalion. The 15-6 characterizes an elder evacuating his family from an adjacent 2-story house, and warning of an attack, as a generic, not useful. Yet the elder seemed to feel that his intel was actionable.
A half hour before the 4:30 am attack kicked off, 70 US and Afghan paratroops were geared up and dispersed in entrenched fighting positions on a 360º perimeter. Charlie Company's captain ordered his 120mm mortar to fire on an exposed enemy maneuver element, in anticipation of imminent attack. As the mortar team was taking aim, the first rocket barrage came pouring in from close range, revealing enemy strength around the prerimeter. The captain then got 155 heavy artillery putting a (hopefully) prepared fire plan onto the Wanat grid, within three minutes of the initial attack. For certain a 'holy shit' way to meet the dawn, but CF paratroops weren't caught napping.
Stripped of The Rock's sacrifice, heroism and unacceptable casualties, the attack on Wanat VPB is more descriptive of a micro Khe Sanh than Pearl Harbor. Khe Sanh was fought on ground chosen by the defenders, a place the enemy would attack.
Was it surprising that the enemy exploited our aviation crew rotation cycle at dawn, hit before heavy engineering gear and troop reinforcements arrived, used their knowledge of physical and human terrain to press close before opening fire, concentrated men and weapons sufficient to even the odds? Yes. But an expected attack of surprising strength against our base is not the same as an ambush sprung on a patrol.
On p2, the 15-6 states
"The Freedom of movement experienced by the AAF in Waygul District would not be possible without the passive and active support of the local population and the weakness of the government"
The version of the report I can read makes no tribal or religious characterization of that population, or any Afghan group or player in the drama. It doesn't mention what I was told here on Mr. Rick's blog, that Wanat sits right on an active ethnic conflict line, where Pashtun's pushed into Nuristani land during the previous decades of war. If ethno-tribal divisions played absolutely no role in enemy recruiting of local support, or how the attack developed, THAT would be unusual, and worth remarking on. NO mention is either a display of ignorance, or a play on the ignorance of the reader.
Afghan gov't troops, the local gov't, AAF fighters, and Wanat collaboraors are all aware of tribal affiliations in their allies and opposition. It's as much a part of the picture as the ANA platoon at Wanat being 'paratroops', and mentored by marines.
Those Marine mentors, and The Rock Paratroops were getting local ethno-religious information on the enemy, and on Wanat's Nuristani scene, vs the Pashtun orientation around nearby Camp Blessing, where the company and QRF was based.
Did the Nuristanis see The Rock, the ANA paratroops, and the ANA Commandos as aligned with their down-valley Pashtun rivals? Was The Rock relying on Pashtun translators and intel? Given their earlier casualties incurred during pacification efforts up-valley, and deep mistrust of the Wanat ANP post, was the Nuristani end of the Waygul marked as a hostile population?
The one ultra-slim post-action characterization of the attackers that makes it into the 15-6 is of one 'foreign looking' body. A contributor here went for the inference, that meant Arab or Chechen Terrorist. Maybe yes, and deniably 'maybe.' But Nuristani's are noted for a diversity of eurasian appearances within a clan. 'Foreign looking' is a pretty weak sop, given the totality of ethnic intel that's being left out. Who's cammies did he wear underneath, and was his outer disguise Nuri or Pash?
What was the quality and origin of enemy ordnance, relative to other Rock engagements, and the arms surplus the Wanat ANP were maybe selling? "AAF" seems a thin and generic characterization, given the price TF Rock paid to hold the ground and sift the evidence for answers pointing back to an enemy base.
Before the Wanat combat, one of our survivors is quoted as hearing a local say 'bad people to the West, shoot them on sight' . The paratrooper must have been asking himself what tribal filter is generating the statement, and who the 'bad men' were. The significance of the quote turns on the nature and intent of the source, which is left out. Lots of scores to settle in Afghanistan, and nothing is more deniable than a US air or artillery strike. Our guys know that, and work at not being manipulated or misdirected.
Every version of the civil war matrix that has racked Afghanistan for the last 30 years has been defined by a differing regional, tribal and religious character of the factions. If a bad police chief or Wanat elder or ANA PL is not aligned with either the Pashtun or Nuristani, that's unusual and worth remarking on.
Is the 15-6 blind spot, the entho-religious 'don't ask, don't tell', a willful ignorance, indicative of strategic blindness? Or is it in the service of 'all loyal afghans welcome our support' political correctness, like the ever-missing enemy casualty estimate? (The Rock's mauled platoon wasn't balanced against 'you should have seen the other guys' estimates? Only friendly casualties and dead terrorists'are fit fare for home audience consumption.) Fine. But who were those guys we killed, that killed us?
I'm not suggesting that identities of Pashtun-Nuristani-Tajik-Korengali-Sunni-Shiite-Wahabi-Sufi tell the whole Wanat/Waygul story, or are more important to a platoon-company level combat than how to deal with tomorrow's attack. I am saying that a Bagram command-level 15-6 retelling of the combat environment that makes absolutely no mention of tribal-religious alingnments in the Waygul players is remarkable for that blind spot.
My reading tells me that strategic surprise or failure is often a product of strategic blindness. And just as often retold as lack of intel.
I'm reminded of the vignette of AQI arch-terrorist Zarqawi's near capture, in 2005. As he prepared to dive alone out of his car and evade the pursuit, the thing he asked his driver was 'What tribe runs this area?" TE Lawrence must have asked the same question many times. Every band he led, every hole they watered at, had a distinct tribal character. That is the knowledge Zarqawi needed to stay alive, find cover in the human terrain, and continue his war.
Tribal knowledge is vital to us, if it's vital to our enemy. It wasn't until our force in Anbar came to grips with the futility of continuing a war of attrition, were ALLOWED to exploit tribal knowledge and divisions. began to protect surviving Sunni Sawa, fighters who were openly hostile to the US occupation, that the war in that province turned the corner.
My assumption is that The Rock was aware and working within the tribal context, before and after Wanat, the way a top carpenter notes differences in his wood, at a glance. But the mission statement in Bagram's 15-6 comes very close to boiler-plate 'connect the population to Kabul, defeat AAF" language that could justify any mission. It goes 9/24 pages setting the stage for the battle, without so much as a tribal caveat or op-for AAF characterization. Is the command-staff writer in Bagram ignorant of Nuristan? Or is addressing 'what kind of war is this?' a subject where information control doctrine calls for preserving the ignorance of the readers?
Posted By Thomas E. Ricks Monday, February 2, 2009 - 8:04 PM Share
A friend who has read this series on the small but deadly battle at Wanat last summer suggested that we should consider one more issue-that is, what this incident might tell us about the war in Afghanistan.
I think the insights of this infantry veteran, who must remain anonymous because of his position, are important. Let him explain:
We are so very exposed in this land-locked...
This article has been archived. To continue reading, you must first log in.
If you already have an account on our website, click here to log in.
If you do not have an account, click here to create one.
Note: If you created your account before June 2009 you may need to create a new one.
EXPLORE:AFGHANISTAN, WANAT SHARE THIS ARTICLE: Facebook|Twitter|Reddit
You might like:
Wanat: What the families want (IV) - By Tom RIcks (The Best Defense )
Inside an Afghan battle gone wrong (V): Neglecting the misgivings of those given the mission (The Best Defense )
Afghans Can Win This War - By Yahya Massoud (Foreign Policy)
Lots of Leaks -- But Where Are the Bombshells? | Shadow Government (Shadow Government )
Obama Is 0 for 4
On Foreign Policy
Who Will Be the Next Secretary of Defense?
The Circus Comes
To Pakistan
Could Mr. WikiLeaks Go to Prison?
(15)HIDE COMMENTS LOGIN OR REGISTER REPORT ABUSE
RUBBER DUCKY
12:53 AM ET
February 3, 2009
Iragq vs Afghanistan
Tom-
Great posting.
Can't help reflecting that blame here goes to the very top, to commander in chief. Impression: Army and Administration focus on Iraq loaded up that zone with people and gear. Promotions flowed/flow, as did/does money. Strong infrastructure, strong emphasis on force protection, every effort to optimize success. In contrast, Afghan campaign waged on the cheap, few promotions, little in way of gear or support compared to Iraq, and little interest or effort to deal with the pol part of pol-mil in the region.
Making Wanat victim of our profound blunder in grand strategy and the ready acceptance by Army of the easier path. If we're learning lessons, let's study the corporate Army's top-level performance since first into Afghanistan.
RUBBER DUCKY
12:52 AM ET
February 3, 2009
Iragq vs Afghanistan
Double posting - my bad.
GIAN P GENTILE
12:31 PM ET
February 3, 2009
what is your point?
Tom:
What is your point, or baseline criticism, in these postings?
What becomes clear from these reports, which you have yet to acknowledge, is that the Army has in fact learned and had ingrained into them the principles of pop-centric Counterinsurgency; an approach that you have been a huge advocate of in your writings over the past three years. In fact the report shows that the platoon and its higher headquarters were doing their damndest to follow those principles of population security, via living amongst the people even when it put them at tactical risk. I recall that one of the paradoxes of Coin as written in FM 3-24 says something like sometimes the more you protect yourself the less secure you are!! Well, can’t we acknowledge that that was exactly the principle these men were following?
It seems that you want it both ways. That you demand an Army that is transformed around the Coin principles of Galula; OK, you got that at Wanat. But then on the other hand when the Army has made that conversion you mire yourself down into the tactical details of the engagement but fail to acknowledge that at least demonstrated by the actions at Wanat the Army has become the Army that you seem to desire; aka the "Surge" Army. David Galula would have accepted what happened at Wanat as the price of doing business in population-centric Coin, why can’t you?
OLD BLUE
3:33 AM ET
February 9, 2009
Two-tailed COIN
Had this been an exercise of all-around COIN, the local government and the only national governmental entity on-site, the ANP, would have been actively engaged.
Active engagement of the ANP would have involved, first, a comprehensive district assessment including in inspection of the facilities (that means the arms room, too.) The leadership would have been evaluated, including their reliability. Biographical information would have been gathered; education, history, all of that stuff. Pictures would have been taken of the facilities and a sketch as well. The overabundance of weapons would have been apparent and red flags would have gone up all over the place.
The excess weapons would have been removed as well.
An investigation and interrogations would have followed immediately. Out of 20 ANP, there was likely a talker in the bunch. This may have blown the AAF plan to overrun the VPB. The removal of the weapons would surely have hampered the attack.
None of this was done.
Galula never advocated moving into an area and trying to engage the populace independent of the governmental agencies present. In COIN, the job is to make the government more legitimate, not supplant them. There were governmental security personnel in the area; but they were bad, and the only note on this early in the report (detailing the events leading up to the attack) is that they neglected to inform the Rock element of a Shura.
It was attempted COIN, perhaps, but there was no one to really engage the only local armed government force in the area. Doing this is an essential part of COIN.
This in no way takes away from the actions of the platoon. Engaging the ANP to the degree needed was simply not part of their job. There are special teams that are trained in this, but they were not available. You can bet that they were also not requested. It wasn't the platoon who failed in engaging the ANP.
This was a maneuver force-only attempt at pop-centric COIN and ignored some very basic principles of COIN. This is not a shining example of COIN done right that ended tragically. If anything, it is an example of men put into a situation without the tools needed to successfully engage the local governmental agencies that were in place already. The demonstration in the 15-6 that the ANP were complicit in the attack proves that this was a fatal mistake.
The fact that the 15-6 fails to identify this lack of appraisal of the local ANP while noting their complicity in the attack indicates that the Army that supposedly is so proficient at COIN didn't even recognize this key failure.
This was not what Galula would have done, nor would he have accepted this as the natural result of COIN done well.
TOM RICKS
3:38 PM ET
February 3, 2009
Gian's question
Gian,
Thanks for reading the blog.
My point is to look at a series of questions about this small action. Many of those questions are raised by the Army's own 15-6 report.
Some of the questions have to do with counterinsurgency, and many do not. Yes, I do think that there is some evidence that the battalion was trying to use some principles of counterinsurgency, but there also is evidence that they were doing so incompletely, or even haphazardly, without a full grasp of the COIN approach, and probably without enough troops to do it.
I also think there are questions that go well beyond doctrine. Whatever the mission was, did they have enough people and resources to do it? Is this incident emblematic of the undersupported war in eastern Afghanistan?
Best,
Tom Ricks
ROCKPARATROOPER
3:58 AM ET
February 4, 2009
Damned if you Do - Damned if you Don't
6
STEVE JONES
6:00 AM ET
February 5, 2009
Keep writing
RockParatrooper, I'm sorry to see you removed your comments. Frankly, I thought they were the best part of this article. I hope you kept copies for yourself, at least.
Keep writing. For yourself, for posting, for publication, whatever. Just keep writing.
THAYNE
3:43 PM ET
February 5, 2009
Agreed
Agreed. A lot of opinion and speculation here. RP's comments were factual and enlightening.
WALKING WOUNDED
8:13 PM ET
February 5, 2009
a Waygul sort of war
Everyone in this string seems comforable with the redacted 15-6 'we was set up' narrative. Mr. Ricks called Wanat "an ambush".
The 'sudden' appearance of well led and potentially overwhelming enemy at VPB Wanat seems something of a brigade command excuse. If you accept the 'every Wanat building damaged, but no civilian casualties' part at face value, then villagers ought to have been seen leaving, with elderly, children and animals, bedding, food. My guess is that the Wanat OP reported such observations, and they were passed back to battalion. The 15-6 characterizes an elder evacuating his family from an adjacent 2-story house, and warning of an attack, as a generic, not useful. Yet the elder seemed to feel that his intel was actionable.
A half hour before the 4:30 am attack kicked off, 70 US and Afghan paratroops were geared up and dispersed in entrenched fighting positions on a 360º perimeter. Charlie Company's captain ordered his 120mm mortar to fire on an exposed enemy maneuver element, in anticipation of imminent attack. As the mortar team was taking aim, the first rocket barrage came pouring in from close range, revealing enemy strength around the prerimeter. The captain then got 155 heavy artillery putting a (hopefully) prepared fire plan onto the Wanat grid, within three minutes of the initial attack. For certain a 'holy shit' way to meet the dawn, but CF paratroops weren't caught napping.
Stripped of The Rock's sacrifice, heroism and unacceptable casualties, the attack on Wanat VPB is more descriptive of a micro Khe Sanh than Pearl Harbor. Khe Sanh was fought on ground chosen by the defenders, a place the enemy would attack.
Was it surprising that the enemy exploited our aviation crew rotation cycle at dawn, hit before heavy engineering gear and troop reinforcements arrived, used their knowledge of physical and human terrain to press close before opening fire, concentrated men and weapons sufficient to even the odds? Yes. But an expected attack of surprising strength against our base is not the same as an ambush sprung on a patrol.
On p2, the 15-6 states
"The Freedom of movement experienced by the AAF in Waygul District would not be possible without the passive and active support of the local population and the weakness of the government"
The version of the report I can read makes no tribal or religious characterization of that population, or any Afghan group or player in the drama. It doesn't mention what I was told here on Mr. Rick's blog, that Wanat sits right on an active ethnic conflict line, where Pashtun's pushed into Nuristani land during the previous decades of war. If ethno-tribal divisions played absolutely no role in enemy recruiting of local support, or how the attack developed, THAT would be unusual, and worth remarking on. NO mention is either a display of ignorance, or a play on the ignorance of the reader.
Afghan gov't troops, the local gov't, AAF fighters, and Wanat collaboraors are all aware of tribal affiliations in their allies and opposition. It's as much a part of the picture as the ANA platoon at Wanat being 'paratroops', and mentored by marines.
Those Marine mentors, and The Rock Paratroops were getting local ethno-religious information on the enemy, and on Wanat's Nuristani scene, vs the Pashtun orientation around nearby Camp Blessing, where the company and QRF was based.
Did the Nuristanis see The Rock, the ANA paratroops, and the ANA Commandos as aligned with their down-valley Pashtun rivals? Was The Rock relying on Pashtun translators and intel? Given their earlier casualties incurred during pacification efforts up-valley, and deep mistrust of the Wanat ANP post, was the Nuristani end of the Waygul marked as a hostile population?
The one ultra-slim post-action characterization of the attackers that makes it into the 15-6 is of one 'foreign looking' body. A contributor here went for the inference, that meant Arab or Chechen Terrorist. Maybe yes, and deniably 'maybe.' But Nuristani's are noted for a diversity of eurasian appearances within a clan. 'Foreign looking' is a pretty weak sop, given the totality of ethnic intel that's being left out. Who's cammies did he wear underneath, and was his outer disguise Nuri or Pash?
What was the quality and origin of enemy ordnance, relative to other Rock engagements, and the arms surplus the Wanat ANP were maybe selling? "AAF" seems a thin and generic characterization, given the price TF Rock paid to hold the ground and sift the evidence for answers pointing back to an enemy base.
Before the Wanat combat, one of our survivors is quoted as hearing a local say 'bad people to the West, shoot them on sight' . The paratrooper must have been asking himself what tribal filter is generating the statement, and who the 'bad men' were. The significance of the quote turns on the nature and intent of the source, which is left out. Lots of scores to settle in Afghanistan, and nothing is more deniable than a US air or artillery strike. Our guys know that, and work at not being manipulated or misdirected.
Every version of the civil war matrix that has racked Afghanistan for the last 30 years has been defined by a differing regional, tribal and religious character of the factions. If a bad police chief or Wanat elder or ANA PL is not aligned with either the Pashtun or Nuristani, that's unusual and worth remarking on.
Is the 15-6 blind spot, the entho-religious 'don't ask, don't tell', a willful ignorance, indicative of strategic blindness? Or is it in the service of 'all loyal afghans welcome our support' political correctness, like the ever-missing enemy casualty estimate? (The Rock's mauled platoon wasn't balanced against 'you should have seen the other guys' estimates? Only friendly casualties and dead terrorists'are fit fare for home audience consumption.) Fine. But who were those guys we killed, that killed us?
I'm not suggesting that identities of Pashtun-Nuristani-Tajik-Korengali-Sunni-Shiite-Wahabi-Sufi tell the whole Wanat/Waygul story, or are more important to a platoon-company level combat than how to deal with tomorrow's attack. I am saying that a Bagram command-level 15-6 retelling of the combat environment that makes absolutely no mention of tribal-religious alingnments in the Waygul players is remarkable for that blind spot.
My reading tells me that strategic surprise or failure is often a product of strategic blindness. And just as often retold as lack of intel.
I'm reminded of the vignette of AQI arch-terrorist Zarqawi's near capture, in 2005. As he prepared to dive alone out of his car and evade the pursuit, the thing he asked his driver was 'What tribe runs this area?" TE Lawrence must have asked the same question many times. Every band he led, every hole they watered at, had a distinct tribal character. That is the knowledge Zarqawi needed to stay alive, find cover in the human terrain, and continue his war.
Tribal knowledge is vital to us, if it's vital to our enemy. It wasn't until our force in Anbar came to grips with the futility of continuing a war of attrition, were ALLOWED to exploit tribal knowledge and divisions. began to protect surviving Sunni Sawa, fighters who were openly hostile to the US occupation, that the war in that province turned the corner.
My assumption is that The Rock was aware and working within the tribal context, before and after Wanat, the way a top carpenter notes differences in his wood, at a glance. But the mission statement in Bagram's 15-6 comes very close to boiler-plate 'connect the population to Kabul, defeat AAF" language that could justify any mission. It goes 9/24 pages setting the stage for the battle, without so much as a tribal caveat or op-for AAF characterization. Is the command-staff writer in Bagram ignorant of Nuristan? Or is addressing 'what kind of war is this?' a subject where information control doctrine calls for preserving the ignorance of the readers?
Hell
HOME OF COMPANY B The United States operates remote firebases and outposts far from the main roads and cities, hoping to keep insurgents busy far away from much of the population. This is part of a defense-in-depth of blocking positions, or, as one colonel called them, Taliban magnets. Viper Company, which occupies the Korangal Outpost, in the most dangerous part of a highly unstable country, is one of those magnets. In many ways, Viper Company's area of operations is the American experience of rural Afghanistan in a microcosm: In every direction are small valleys, and within each are smaller canyons, a land of seams beyond measure, with each valley and hamlet a place where few Americans, if any, have stepped in years.
Uphill Company B walked, as the temperature dropped. Viper Shake had been planned as a roughly thirty-six-hour walk without sleep, beginning with a helicopter insert on this night from the outpost to the ridge and continuing through the next day, followed by a descent the following night down the mountain, with the hope of crossing the Korangal River and passing back into the outpost shortly after dawn. That last bit was essential. After several years of intense combat, local Afghans had scratched out fighting positions facing the approaches to the American lines. The company did not want to be caught in the low ground, trying to cross the river in the morning, when they might get raked with machine-gun fire from above. In a head-to-head fight, the insurgents were no match for the company. But if the company was caught down there, or midriver, many of its advantages would be gone.
Down was to be worried about later. Now Company B was going up. And as the minutes became hours, the soldiers were only beginning. The helicopters had picked up the company in the first hours of darkness. The pilots of transport helicopters do not like to fly in the Korangal Valley, and they rarely try by daylight because gunmen wait, armed with PK and DShK machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades. They know the helicopters' routine. Two transport helicopters were downed in the valley in the past nine months. Now transport pilots prefer the night. Even then they arrive with Apache gunships as escorts, so that anyone daring to shoot risks a punishing response.
It had taken weeks to organize the operation. Company B runs several small positions in the valley, and since these positions could not be abandoned while the company worked outside the wire, the battalion had sent two extra platoons for Viper Shake. These soldiers had trickled in on recent night flights, and been ordered not to wander outside, because if spotters noticed that the outpost had been reinforced, they might suspect that Company B was about to push out for a fight. And so Company B had waited until nighttime, when the soldiers appeared and lined up in the dark, waiting for the hop onto Sawtalo Sar.
After the pickup, the helicopters had first flown to another ridge and pretended to land there — a second effort to deceive. If the spotters were not sure where the company had landed, their confusion might buy time and let the soldiers catch somebody unaware. And so it had gone. The soldiers were flown to one ridge, then another. On the second ridge the helicopters landed in a clearing, with door gunners looking over their weapons and shouting, "Go!" and everyone rose and ran out the back ramp and fanned out as the downblast and hot exhaust blew the brush flat and the helicopters lifted away. Now Company B walked, although no one had any idea whether the feint had worked. They were silently busy with other things, each man in his own mind, walking up a hill he could barely see. Talking on patrol is discouraged; the soldiers were silent. The moon had yet to rise, and they knew that when it did, it would be a sliver, which meant that all night the mountain would be so black that when a soldier switched off his night-vision device, he would see nothing except stars overhead through gaps in the trees.
A tour in the infantry, along with nine months in the Afghan mountains, was enough to condition any young man. The soldiers of Company B were almost all lean, sinewy even, and acclimated to the air. They knew the rhythms of this place. One of the platoons, 2nd Platoon, had been in ferocious contacts twice in recent days. First it had ambushed an Afghan patrol, killing at least thirteen armed men at close range. And then it had been ambushed itself, and fought its way out of the riverbed under fire from high ground on three sides. In nine months in the valley, 2nd Platoon's casualty rate was an even 50 percent; sixteen of the thirty-two original soldiers were no longer here. Four of those soldiers had been killed, including Private First Class Richard Dewater, who died in the first instant of the last fight, when the insurgents detonated a bomb beneath him on a trail.
Second Platoon had lingered in the landing zone after the rest of Company B filed off. A pilot had seen a pile of ammunition for a recoilless rifle as he had landed, a cache hidden by brush. The platoon had scoured the field. But in the blackness the soldiers found nothing. The company commander, Captain James Howell, ordered 2nd Platoon to rejoin the company, which was walking away. Once the platoon slipped into the forest and began to catch up, the captain directed an air strike onto the zone. Explosions roared behind them. Then the night was silent again.
The climb was not easy. The mud turned greasy as more soldiers walked through it. Traction was difficult to find; in places, each step could take a man backward, as the soil and snow gave way and he slid down. Branches swept the soldiers' faces. Some soldiers fell, cursing to themselves as they pulled themselves to their feet. A few suffered already from bum ankles and knees, and now some men straggled. An Air Force sergeant in the command group, who was carrying a pack heavy with communications gear, fell behind, too. Captain Howell backtracked and stood over the sergeant, who was bent forward, head low, hands on knees, panting, spent. The captain told him to remove the backpack and carry only his weapon and water. Then he swung the radio on his back and walked off, carrying the sergeant's equipment and his own.
Even without the pack, the man was too tired.
In all, as Company B was spread in a half-mile line along the ridge, three soldiers had become too exhausted to keep up. The captain listened to radio chatter; he realized these men would slow down the job. He called for a helicopter, which appeared within minutes, landed, and lifted the men away.
Three men down. The company moved on.
The problem with the United States' multiple missions is not that any of them is without merit, although each has had its mix-ups and flaws. The problem lies in the relationship of missions to one another. From 2002 to 2008, the American national-security establishment devoted the larger share of its intellectual and material resources to the war in Iraq. And predictably and surely, no one was able or empowered to make the Afghan missions cohere.
Many of the ensuing problems are natural to war. Even on the most simple patrol, soldiers disagree about how things should best be done. Add diplomats and politicians and salesmen and try to develop strategy for Afghanistan and disagreements creep into all manner of essential subjects, from the values versus the perils of air power to ways to deter the cultivation of poppy to the merits and means of democratization to the size and composition of the troop level to the best manner and locations to deploy units in the field. But the war's conduct has not suffered from only disagreements writ large. It has been undermined by disharmony. Various missions have fallen under various commands. Several NATO countries contributed forces with caveats and limits on their roles. And at the doctrinal level, the core question of how to put Western counterinsurgency theory into practice remains publicly unresolved. Even the term "Afghan war" is inadequate; the same war is being fought deep into Pakistan, where the rules change again.
No commander could be expected to juggle all of this to victory, especially in the years after Iraq exploded in violence and the message in Washington was that the United States had prevailed in Afghanistan and was running down the last few villains to mop up. Top officers rotated through the many Afghan commands. Central problems remained unresolved. By the time of Viper Shake, focus had swung back. And the current four-star, General David McKiernan, was rumored down to the level of the brigade officers to have been at odds with the brass in the United States. He was soon to be relieved, a sign that the United States was still struggling, at the highest levels, to shape itself to the work.
Uphill Company B walked, as the temperature dropped. Viper Shake had been planned as a roughly thirty-six-hour walk without sleep, beginning with a helicopter insert on this night from the outpost to the ridge and continuing through the next day, followed by a descent the following night down the mountain, with the hope of crossing the Korangal River and passing back into the outpost shortly after dawn. That last bit was essential. After several years of intense combat, local Afghans had scratched out fighting positions facing the approaches to the American lines. The company did not want to be caught in the low ground, trying to cross the river in the morning, when they might get raked with machine-gun fire from above. In a head-to-head fight, the insurgents were no match for the company. But if the company was caught down there, or midriver, many of its advantages would be gone.
Down was to be worried about later. Now Company B was going up. And as the minutes became hours, the soldiers were only beginning. The helicopters had picked up the company in the first hours of darkness. The pilots of transport helicopters do not like to fly in the Korangal Valley, and they rarely try by daylight because gunmen wait, armed with PK and DShK machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades. They know the helicopters' routine. Two transport helicopters were downed in the valley in the past nine months. Now transport pilots prefer the night. Even then they arrive with Apache gunships as escorts, so that anyone daring to shoot risks a punishing response.
It had taken weeks to organize the operation. Company B runs several small positions in the valley, and since these positions could not be abandoned while the company worked outside the wire, the battalion had sent two extra platoons for Viper Shake. These soldiers had trickled in on recent night flights, and been ordered not to wander outside, because if spotters noticed that the outpost had been reinforced, they might suspect that Company B was about to push out for a fight. And so Company B had waited until nighttime, when the soldiers appeared and lined up in the dark, waiting for the hop onto Sawtalo Sar.
After the pickup, the helicopters had first flown to another ridge and pretended to land there — a second effort to deceive. If the spotters were not sure where the company had landed, their confusion might buy time and let the soldiers catch somebody unaware. And so it had gone. The soldiers were flown to one ridge, then another. On the second ridge the helicopters landed in a clearing, with door gunners looking over their weapons and shouting, "Go!" and everyone rose and ran out the back ramp and fanned out as the downblast and hot exhaust blew the brush flat and the helicopters lifted away. Now Company B walked, although no one had any idea whether the feint had worked. They were silently busy with other things, each man in his own mind, walking up a hill he could barely see. Talking on patrol is discouraged; the soldiers were silent. The moon had yet to rise, and they knew that when it did, it would be a sliver, which meant that all night the mountain would be so black that when a soldier switched off his night-vision device, he would see nothing except stars overhead through gaps in the trees.
A tour in the infantry, along with nine months in the Afghan mountains, was enough to condition any young man. The soldiers of Company B were almost all lean, sinewy even, and acclimated to the air. They knew the rhythms of this place. One of the platoons, 2nd Platoon, had been in ferocious contacts twice in recent days. First it had ambushed an Afghan patrol, killing at least thirteen armed men at close range. And then it had been ambushed itself, and fought its way out of the riverbed under fire from high ground on three sides. In nine months in the valley, 2nd Platoon's casualty rate was an even 50 percent; sixteen of the thirty-two original soldiers were no longer here. Four of those soldiers had been killed, including Private First Class Richard Dewater, who died in the first instant of the last fight, when the insurgents detonated a bomb beneath him on a trail.
Second Platoon had lingered in the landing zone after the rest of Company B filed off. A pilot had seen a pile of ammunition for a recoilless rifle as he had landed, a cache hidden by brush. The platoon had scoured the field. But in the blackness the soldiers found nothing. The company commander, Captain James Howell, ordered 2nd Platoon to rejoin the company, which was walking away. Once the platoon slipped into the forest and began to catch up, the captain directed an air strike onto the zone. Explosions roared behind them. Then the night was silent again.
The climb was not easy. The mud turned greasy as more soldiers walked through it. Traction was difficult to find; in places, each step could take a man backward, as the soil and snow gave way and he slid down. Branches swept the soldiers' faces. Some soldiers fell, cursing to themselves as they pulled themselves to their feet. A few suffered already from bum ankles and knees, and now some men straggled. An Air Force sergeant in the command group, who was carrying a pack heavy with communications gear, fell behind, too. Captain Howell backtracked and stood over the sergeant, who was bent forward, head low, hands on knees, panting, spent. The captain told him to remove the backpack and carry only his weapon and water. Then he swung the radio on his back and walked off, carrying the sergeant's equipment and his own.
Even without the pack, the man was too tired.
In all, as Company B was spread in a half-mile line along the ridge, three soldiers had become too exhausted to keep up. The captain listened to radio chatter; he realized these men would slow down the job. He called for a helicopter, which appeared within minutes, landed, and lifted the men away.
Three men down. The company moved on.
The problem with the United States' multiple missions is not that any of them is without merit, although each has had its mix-ups and flaws. The problem lies in the relationship of missions to one another. From 2002 to 2008, the American national-security establishment devoted the larger share of its intellectual and material resources to the war in Iraq. And predictably and surely, no one was able or empowered to make the Afghan missions cohere.
Many of the ensuing problems are natural to war. Even on the most simple patrol, soldiers disagree about how things should best be done. Add diplomats and politicians and salesmen and try to develop strategy for Afghanistan and disagreements creep into all manner of essential subjects, from the values versus the perils of air power to ways to deter the cultivation of poppy to the merits and means of democratization to the size and composition of the troop level to the best manner and locations to deploy units in the field. But the war's conduct has not suffered from only disagreements writ large. It has been undermined by disharmony. Various missions have fallen under various commands. Several NATO countries contributed forces with caveats and limits on their roles. And at the doctrinal level, the core question of how to put Western counterinsurgency theory into practice remains publicly unresolved. Even the term "Afghan war" is inadequate; the same war is being fought deep into Pakistan, where the rules change again.
No commander could be expected to juggle all of this to victory, especially in the years after Iraq exploded in violence and the message in Washington was that the United States had prevailed in Afghanistan and was running down the last few villains to mop up. Top officers rotated through the many Afghan commands. Central problems remained unresolved. By the time of Viper Shake, focus had swung back. And the current four-star, General David McKiernan, was rumored down to the level of the brigade officers to have been at odds with the brass in the United States. He was soon to be relieved, a sign that the United States was still struggling, at the highest levels, to shape itself to the work.
After reading this it is no wonder so many vets suffer from PTSD
Kevin Hand
HOME OF COMPANY B The United States operates remote firebases and outposts far from the main roads and cities, hoping to keep insurgents busy far away from much of the population. This is part of a defense-in-depth of blocking positions, or, as one colonel called them, Taliban magnets. Viper Company, which occupies the Korangal Outpost, in the most dangerous part of a highly unstable country, is one of those magnets. In many ways, Viper Company's area of operations is the American experience of rural Afghanistan in a microcosm: In every direction are small valleys, and within each are smaller canyons, a land of seams beyond measure, with each valley and hamlet a place where few Americans, if any, have stepped in years.
Uphill Company B walked, as the temperature dropped. Viper Shake had been planned as a roughly thirty-six-hour walk without sleep, beginning with a helicopter insert on this night from the outpost to the ridge and continuing through the next day, followed by a descent the following night down the mountain, with the hope of crossing the Korangal River and passing back into the outpost shortly after dawn. That last bit was essential. After several years of intense combat, local Afghans had scratched out fighting positions facing the approaches to the American lines. The company did not want to be caught in the low ground, trying to cross the river in the morning, when they might get raked with machine-gun fire from above. In a head-to-head fight, the insurgents were no match for the company. But if the company was caught down there, or midriver, many of its advantages would be gone.
Down was to be worried about later. Now Company B was going up. And as the minutes became hours, the soldiers were only beginning. The helicopters had picked up the company in the first hours of darkness. The pilots of transport helicopters do not like to fly in the Korangal Valley, and they rarely try by daylight because gunmen wait, armed with PK and DShK machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades. They know the helicopters' routine. Two transport helicopters were downed in the valley in the past nine months. Now transport pilots prefer the night. Even then they arrive with Apache gunships as escorts, so that anyone daring to shoot risks a punishing response.
It had taken weeks to organize the operation. Company B runs several small positions in the valley, and since these positions could not be abandoned while the company worked outside the wire, the battalion had sent two extra platoons for Viper Shake. These soldiers had trickled in on recent night flights, and been ordered not to wander outside, because if spotters noticed that the outpost had been reinforced, they might suspect that Company B was about to push out for a fight. And so Company B had waited until nighttime, when the soldiers appeared and lined up in the dark, waiting for the hop onto Sawtalo Sar.
After the pickup, the helicopters had first flown to another ridge and pretended to land there — a second effort to deceive. If the spotters were not sure where the company had landed, their confusion might buy time and let the soldiers catch somebody unaware. And so it had gone. The soldiers were flown to one ridge, then another. On the second ridge the helicopters landed in a clearing, with door gunners looking over their weapons and shouting, "Go!" and everyone rose and ran out the back ramp and fanned out as the downblast and hot exhaust blew the brush flat and the helicopters lifted away. Now Company B walked, although no one had any idea whether the feint had worked. They were silently busy with other things, each man in his own mind, walking up a hill he could barely see. Talking on patrol is discouraged; the soldiers were silent. The moon had yet to rise, and they knew that when it did, it would be a sliver, which meant that all night the mountain would be so black that when a soldier switched off his night-vision device, he would see nothing except stars overhead through gaps in the trees.
A tour in the infantry, along with nine months in the Afghan mountains, was enough to condition any young man. The soldiers of Company B were almost all lean, sinewy even, and acclimated to the air. They knew the rhythms of this place. One of the platoons, 2nd Platoon, had been in ferocious contacts twice in recent days. First it had ambushed an Afghan patrol, killing at least thirteen armed men at close range. And then it had been ambushed itself, and fought its way out of the riverbed under fire from high ground on three sides. In nine months in the valley, 2nd Platoon's casualty rate was an even 50 percent; sixteen of the thirty-two original soldiers were no longer here. Four of those soldiers had been killed, including Private First Class Richard Dewater, who died in the first instant of the last fight, when the insurgents detonated a bomb beneath him on a trail.
Second Platoon had lingered in the landing zone after the rest of Company B filed off. A pilot had seen a pile of ammunition for a recoilless rifle as he had landed, a cache hidden by brush. The platoon had scoured the field. But in the blackness the soldiers found nothing. The company commander, Captain James Howell, ordered 2nd Platoon to rejoin the company, which was walking away. Once the platoon slipped into the forest and began to catch up, the captain directed an air strike onto the zone. Explosions roared behind them. Then the night was silent again.
The climb was not easy. The mud turned greasy as more soldiers walked through it. Traction was difficult to find; in places, each step could take a man backward, as the soil and snow gave way and he slid down. Branches swept the soldiers' faces. Some soldiers fell, cursing to themselves as they pulled themselves to their feet. A few suffered already from bum ankles and knees, and now some men straggled. An Air Force sergeant in the command group, who was carrying a pack heavy with communications gear, fell behind, too. Captain Howell backtracked and stood over the sergeant, who was bent forward, head low, hands on knees, panting, spent. The captain told him to remove the backpack and carry only his weapon and water. Then he swung the radio on his back and walked off, carrying the sergeant's equipment and his own.
Even without the pack, the man was too tired.
In all, as Company B was spread in a half-mile line along the ridge, three soldiers had become too exhausted to keep up. The captain listened to radio chatter; he realized these men would slow down the job. He called for a helicopter, which appeared within minutes, landed, and lifted the men away.
Three men down. The company moved on.
The problem with the United States' multiple missions is not that any of them is without merit, although each has had its mix-ups and flaws. The problem lies in the relationship of missions to one another. From 2002 to 2008, the American national-security establishment devoted the larger share of its intellectual and material resources to the war in Iraq. And predictably and surely, no one was able or empowered to make the Afghan missions cohere.
Many of the ensuing problems are natural to war. Even on the most simple patrol, soldiers disagree about how things should best be done. Add diplomats and politicians and salesmen and try to develop strategy for Afghanistan and disagreements creep into all manner of essential subjects, from the values versus the perils of air power to ways to deter the cultivation of poppy to the merits and means of democratization to the size and composition of the troop level to the best manner and locations to deploy units in the field. But the war's conduct has not suffered from only disagreements writ large. It has been undermined by disharmony. Various missions have fallen under various commands. Several NATO countries contributed forces with caveats and limits on their roles. And at the doctrinal level, the core question of how to put Western counterinsurgency theory into practice remains publicly unresolved. Even the term "Afghan war" is inadequate; the same war is being fought deep into Pakistan, where the rules change again.
No commander could be expected to juggle all of this to victory, especially in the years after Iraq exploded in violence and the message in Washington was that the United States had prevailed in Afghanistan and was running down the last few villains to mop up. Top officers rotated through the many Afghan commands. Central problems remained unresolved. By the time of Viper Shake, focus had swung back. And the current four-star, General David McKiernan, was rumored down to the level of the brigade officers to have been at odds with the brass in the United States. He was soon to be relieved, a sign that the United States was still struggling, at the highest levels, to shape itself to the work.
Re
HOME OF COMPANY B The United States operates remote firebases and outposts far from the main roads and cities, hoping to keep insurgents busy far away from much of the population. This is part of a defense-in-depth of blocking positions, or, as one colonel called them, Taliban magnets. Viper Company, which occupies the Korangal Outpost, in the most dangerous part of a highly unstable country, is one of those magnets. In many ways, Viper Company's area of operations is the American experience of rural Afghanistan in a microcosm: In every direction are small valleys, and within each are smaller canyons, a land of seams beyond measure, with each valley and hamlet a place where few Americans, if any, have stepped in years.
Uphill Company B walked, as the temperature dropped. Viper Shake had been planned as a roughly thirty-six-hour walk without sleep, beginning with a helicopter insert on this night from the outpost to the ridge and continuing through the next day, followed by a descent the following night down the mountain, with the hope of crossing the Korangal River and passing back into the outpost shortly after dawn. That last bit was essential. After several years of intense combat, local Afghans had scratched out fighting positions facing the approaches to the American lines. The company did not want to be caught in the low ground, trying to cross the river in the morning, when they might get raked with machine-gun fire from above. In a head-to-head fight, the insurgents were no match for the company. But if the company was caught down there, or midriver, many of its advantages would be gone.
Down was to be worried about later. Now Company B was going up. And as the minutes became hours, the soldiers were only beginning. The helicopters had picked up the company in the first hours of darkness. The pilots of transport helicopters do not like to fly in the Korangal Valley, and they rarely try by daylight because gunmen wait, armed with PK and DShK machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades. They know the helicopters' routine. Two transport helicopters were downed in the valley in the past nine months. Now transport pilots prefer the night. Even then they arrive with Apache gunships as escorts, so that anyone daring to shoot risks a punishing response.
It had taken weeks to organize the operation. Company B runs several small positions in the valley, and since these positions could not be abandoned while the company worked outside the wire, the battalion had sent two extra platoons for Viper Shake. These soldiers had trickled in on recent night flights, and been ordered not to wander outside, because if spotters noticed that the outpost had been reinforced, they might suspect that Company B was about to push out for a fight. And so Company B had waited until nighttime, when the soldiers appeared and lined up in the dark, waiting for the hop onto Sawtalo Sar.
After the pickup, the helicopters had first flown to another ridge and pretended to land there — a second effort to deceive. If the spotters were not sure where the company had landed, their confusion might buy time and let the soldiers catch somebody unaware. And so it had gone. The soldiers were flown to one ridge, then another. On the second ridge the helicopters landed in a clearing, with door gunners looking over their weapons and shouting, "Go!" and everyone rose and ran out the back ramp and fanned out as the downblast and hot exhaust blew the brush flat and the helicopters lifted away. Now Company B walked, although no one had any idea whether the feint had worked. They were silently busy with other things, each man in his own mind, walking up a hill he could barely see. Talking on patrol is discouraged; the soldiers were silent. The moon had yet to rise, and they knew that when it did, it would be a sliver, which meant that all night the mountain would be so black that when a soldier switched off his night-vision device, he would see nothing except stars overhead through gaps in the trees.
A tour in the infantry, along with nine months in the Afghan mountains, was enough to condition any young man. The soldiers of Company B were almost all lean, sinewy even, and acclimated to the air. They knew the rhythms of this place. One of the platoons, 2nd Platoon, had been in ferocious contacts twice in recent days. First it had ambushed an Afghan patrol, killing at least thirteen armed men at close range. And then it had been ambushed itself, and fought its way out of the riverbed under fire from high ground on three sides. In nine months in the valley, 2nd Platoon's casualty rate was an even 50 percent; sixteen of the thirty-two original soldiers were no longer here. Four of those soldiers had been killed, including Private First Class Richard Dewater, who died in the first instant of the last fight, when the insurgents detonated a bomb beneath him on a trail.
Second Platoon had lingered in the landing zone after the rest of Company B filed off. A pilot had seen a pile of ammunition for a recoilless rifle as he had landed, a cache hidden by brush. The platoon had scoured the field. But in the blackness the soldiers found nothing. The company commander, Captain James Howell, ordered 2nd Platoon to rejoin the company, which was walking away. Once the platoon slipped into the forest and began to catch up, the captain directed an air strike onto the zone. Explosions roared behind them. Then the night was silent again.
The climb was not easy. The mud turned greasy as more soldiers walked through it. Traction was difficult to find; in places, each step could take a man backward, as the soil and snow gave way and he slid down. Branches swept the soldiers' faces. Some soldiers fell, cursing to themselves as they pulled themselves to their feet. A few suffered already from bum ankles and knees, and now some men straggled. An Air Force sergeant in the command group, who was carrying a pack heavy with communications gear, fell behind, too. Captain Howell backtracked and stood over the sergeant, who was bent forward, head low, hands on knees, panting, spent. The captain told him to remove the backpack and carry only his weapon and water. Then he swung the radio on his back and walked off, carrying the sergeant's equipment and his own.
Even without the pack, the man was too tired.
In all, as Company B was spread in a half-mile line along the ridge, three soldiers had become too exhausted to keep up. The captain listened to radio chatter; he realized these men would slow down the job. He called for a helicopter, which appeared within minutes, landed, and lifted the men away.
Three men down. The company moved on.
The problem with the United States' multiple missions is not that any of them is without merit, although each has had its mix-ups and flaws. The problem lies in the relationship of missions to one another. From 2002 to 2008, the American national-security establishment devoted the larger share of its intellectual and material resources to the war in Iraq. And predictably and surely, no one was able or empowered to make the Afghan missions cohere.
Many of the ensuing problems are natural to war. Even on the most simple patrol, soldiers disagree about how things should best be done. Add diplomats and politicians and salesmen and try to develop strategy for Afghanistan and disagreements creep into all manner of essential subjects, from the values versus the perils of air power to ways to deter the cultivation of poppy to the merits and means of democratization to the size and composition of the troop level to the best manner and locations to deploy units in the field. But the war's conduct has not suffered from only disagreements writ large. It has been undermined by disharmony. Various missions have fallen under various commands. Several NATO countries contributed forces with caveats and limits on their roles. And at the doctrinal level, the core question of how to put Western counterinsurgency theory into practice remains publicly unresolved. Even the term "Afghan war" is inadequate; the same war is being fought deep into Pakistan, where the rules change again.
No commander could be expected to juggle all of this to victory, especially in the years after Iraq exploded in violence and the message in Washington was that the United States had prevailed in Afghanistan and was running down the last few villains to mop up. Top officers rotated through the many Afghan commands. Central problems remained unresolved. By the time of Viper Shake, focus had swung back. And the current four-star, General David McKiernan, was rumored down to the level of the brigade officers to have been at odds with the brass in the United States. He was soon to be relieved, a sign that the United States was still struggling, at the highest levels, to shape itself to the work.
Re
Reasons for PTSD
use to... Or this is not a two sided in love situation. It hurts when he considers his friend's needs and his desire to be with his friends, rather than mine. If I bring it up then I'm accused of trying to control him. That he will let me know right off, that no one will ever control him, he does as he wishes.
I'm really to the point of not caring, not caring for anything, not anymore. If it weren't for my children and grandchildren I'd much rather be in heaven with my parent and husband, why should I? He still had strings with his ex. and not a word of it makes since to me, just his reasoning. So, be it................
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Living with personal dragons in your daily life by Russ from PTSD Support Services
At the present time, I have a Veteran's Administration Service Connected disability rating of 100% based on PTSD. The primary trauma accrued within a 48-hour period while on active duty in Vietnam. During this time I, along with my unit, was bombed by our own B-52's. Ending up walking next to an unexploded 750-pound bomb. Then walking into an ambush that took most of the lives within my unit and watching while rescue helicopters were being shot down trying to remove me and other wounded from the battle zone where I had received combat wounds.
My family background is traditional and is based on an extended family that included a great deal of interaction between grandparents, uncles/aunts and their children. Family get-togethers and family picnics during the summer stand out in my mind the most. Although my father died when I was only 9 years old, the "Father Role" was filled by one of my uncles.
Since leaving the Army, I have found life difficult and trying for me. Many times over the last 30 years and even more often in recent times, I have felt that ending my life would be best solution for me. After losing my teaching job at a college I returned to the travel industry where I have been employed for most of my adult life. But only after a short time (3 months) I lost this job because of an angry outburst on my part. I have looked back on my life and feel that I have accomplished little in my life, my depression has taken its toll, and I'm very tired because of this depression.
Through therapy I am learning to recognize many of my PTSD problems (Dragons) that I was not aware of before starting. These symptoms, listed at the bottom of this report, have been so much a part of my life that I did not recognize them as being out of the ordinary. Since November 1996 I have emotionally continued on a downward spiral fighting this ingrained PTSD.
I will emphasize my deficiencies in the areas of work, family relations, and lack of anger management, plus other areas. I am unable to accept authority in the workplace, which is very stressful to me and I get feelings that it’s necessary for me to change jobs because of the lack of satisfaction where/when I have worked.
Even though I’ve had many personal relationships, lasting several months, I still feel that I am isolated from people and the communities that I have live in. I feel that every time that someone has tried to be a friend, I push them away so that they don't learn of my past or for fear of losing them later as it happened so many times during my tours of duty in Vietnam.
I do not socialize well nor do I like to interact with most other people around me. For most of my life I have lived within a closed world. I have only one true friend, who is also a Vietnam vet, and I do not allow people to get close to me. This way I do not expose myself to inquiry about the war or the part that I played in it.
For the last 30 years I have not lived a normal happy life.
I have repeatedly moved around the country looking for the “right” place to live, never being happy in any one place for longer than two years. I’ve been married three times. I’ve had 20 plus live-in girlfriends plus hundreds of short-term/one night relationships. It seems that anytime a woman tries to be close to me emotionally I push them away and I look for someone else. I try to find contentment, satisfaction and happiness with women but all it turns into is sexual gratification and escapism for me. I have found that I do not allow anyone near me on a personal/emotional level and still do not allow it today. These relationships, for the most part, have been for sexual gratification or emotional numbing only.
I am always looking for a better life, the right woman to be my wife, a better job, or place to live. I have, for many years, believed that I won’t live past the age of 62. It’s my belief that I will not retire like normal people do.
I am a person, who would rather be out in the middle of nowhere than being forced into socializing with most, if not all people. This has caused additional problems in my relationships and I do not see any future change.
Within this 30-year time frame I have had and lost many jobs, quitting most of them, and I have never been successful in the business world. I feel that I have had many good ideas but have never followed through with them to completion. The fear of success can be overwhelming.
I am an “Emotional Stuffer” in the true sense of the word. I do not convey my feelings nor do I express my feelings to anyone very well. I have a difficult time being open with people and not wishing to hurt other people’s feelings I seldom express myself openly. During several times of great stress or anger, I have lived in isolation away from everyone, preferring to live in the mountains. I am much more comfortable living in small towns and even more so in a rural setting like a farm or ranch with no neighbors close by to my family or me.
Anger is the main controlling force in my life and I use it as a tool to protect myself from harm, which has accrued or may accrue in my life since Vietnam. This perceived danger can happen even in my life today and has been reflected in daily events as simple as yelling a people for blocking an aisle at a store while I'm trying to pass by.
I must admit that I do spend time confused as to the date, place or time that I'm in. Finding it necessary to relay on others for appointments, I'm usually at least a day or two off but its not uncommon for me to be at least a year off when trying to remember events in my life. While teaching, it was necessary for my secretary to keep track of events I needed to go to since I would forget where I was supposed to be.
I find it difficult to adjust to changing events or circumstances around me but especially in the business world. I either have quit or have been fired from many (30) jobs since 1967 when I returned from Vietnam. I have found that the stress of working and making business decisions or the responsibilities related to work is very frustrating for me. Its common for me to have anxiety attacks at work, worrying about if I'm doing the job correctly and if so will I remember to continue that way. It is not uncommon for me to start a new job, find it enjoyable, work hard and learn about the position I'm in, than become bored in a very short time. I have even received promotions and than become so concerned about my performance that I quit and move to a new location just so people would not have to trust me.
I have been in combat situations over six times. Since going into the Denver PTSD program even more events and their related flashbacks have been added to my memory as each recollections happen. Each flashback event presents me with their own images and many are now on a daily basis. Most flashbacks are vivid when they occur. With people dying, trees blowing apart and my fears and terror. Some are seen as in-complete events and I'm not seeing all that had happened nor with other people in them. Others visions are only images viewed through a small window of the fight. Many nights I find it hard to go to sleep, stay asleep or I wake up with cold sweat nightmares that I do not remember.
I have to live with anger and irritability on a daily basis. I am now dealing with frustrations over my “missed” life, a life that I’ve craved for and will never have now because of my age. I am bitter with the government and the Veterans Administration for the lack of insight into PTSD and the effects that it has had on my life as well as others that experienced Vietnam and the reactions of people upon my return from service there. When PTSD became a recognized disorder, 1981 (?), I personally feel that not enough effort was made to evaluate Vietnam Veterans for PTSD.
I do have a BA degree in geography. The major difficulty is that it is very non-specific in subject content and has not provided me with useful tools for outside employment after graduation. But now I feel so discouraged and depressed in life I will not go any further in my education. This is based on my lack of concentration, retention of material, memory problems, plus personal concern in my ability to study and learn.
During my time in Vietnam I got into the habit of going to sleep on my left side. The reasoning for this is to get my heart as close to the ground as possible. We had the feeling that during an attack the first rounds from the VC would be high so I wanted to protect myself as best I could. That is one habit that has carried over to today and I still make every effort to go to sleep on my left side.
I wake up in the middle of the night on many occasions with unknown sweat dreams. This is an ongoing problem that I have had for many, many years. I jerk awake in the middle of the night soaking wet, or at the very least, wet around the neck and shoulders. I have caused bruises to several girlfriends and wives waking up this way.
One of the most vivid dreams and recurring dreams deals with my exposure to leeches after being hit and lying in a rice paddy for a night. When I woke up I had many, many leaches on me. I spent almost an hour looking for leeches then burning them off of me with cigarettes.
First, Flashbacks: I experience them. They can occur for no reason and without warning, coming from out of nowhere, or during times of stress. Secondly, Sounds: Sometime with a backfire, helicopter fly-byes, hail bouncing on a roof, close hitting lightning or distant thunder will produce a flashback. I return to Vietnam and my experiences come back to me. Thirdly, Smells have an effect on me: There are several smells that can cause an event but the most forceful smells are: Diesel fumes from truck exhaust or the smell of vomit.
I deal with anxiety attacks that can be rather forceful at times. They develop at any time and can last up to several days. Many others of these attacks are short in length and can be produced by the following: Diesel fuel smell, stress, anger at a news story that I feel there were injustices being done to someone. Grief or sadness for someone that has had a loss of a loved one or by watching a happy ending movie will have an effect on me. Sometime even bringing tears to my eye or a full outright crying session.
I will usually have an anxiety attack after bouts of anger. I wonder what the outcome of this anger will be in my personal life or business life. They have occurred in both, which has led to breakups of relationships, marriages and loss of employment.
I have a very difficult time controlling my anger. Recent events illustrate this, in August 1997, during a presentation to a travel group I lost my temper because the group could not make a decision on a departure date. This cost me another job and increased my negative outlook about myself in general and about my life as well. My self-esteem is pretty low at this time.
I wish to list here is my aversion of being in any crowd or people in general. I do not do not do not like, nor enjoy crowds of people. This includes movie theaters, cafeterias with long lines, long lines of any kind, sporting events, or malls. A simple example of this is that I did not go to any of my school graduations while in college. It seems that I’m always on guard!
Because of thoughts about Vietnam and my past, I have difficulty falling and staying asleep. I have remorse over what I’ve missed because of my PTSD. Even though the knowledge of the effects have come to light only over the last two years, I realize that it is something that I’ve had since discharge from the service! I experience a great deal of irritability and outbursts of anger over this fact!
Most of the PTSD events listed above recur after I have experienced some form of stressful situation or I have become angry over something that has occurred that day. At other times, I can experience them with no forewarning at all. I seem to have no control over these things when they happen anyway. I have had little success in getting my anger, frustrations, short temper, nor my disappointments with life under control.
10 Ways to Recognize Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
After a loss, it is normal to go through a natural grieving process. Sometimes, however, after a tragedy, such as a sudden traumatic event, feelings of loss surface several weeks or months after the tragedy occurred. This is called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Recognizing these symptoms in yourself or others is the first step toward recovery and finding appropriate treatment.
1) Re-experiencing the event through vivid memories or flash backs
2) Feeling “emotionally numb”
3) Feeling overwhelmed by what would normally be considered everyday situations and diminished interest in performing normal tasks or pursuing usual interests
4) Crying uncontrollably
5) Isolating oneself from family and friends and avoiding social situations
6) Relying increasingly on alcohol or drugs to get through the day
7) Feeling extremely moody, irritable, angry, suspicious or frightened
8) Having difficulty falling or staying asleep, sleeping too much and experiencing nightmares
9) Feeling guilty about surviving the event or being unable to solve the problem, change the event or prevent the disaster
10) Feeling fears and sense of doom about the future
Russ also says” My PTSD is combat induced, while a rape/incest/abused person would have different trauma reactions. For your information, traffic accidents are now the greatest producer of PTSD in the USA today.”
I'm really to the point of not caring, not caring for anything, not anymore. If it weren't for my children and grandchildren I'd much rather be in heaven with my parent and husband, why should I? He still had strings with his ex. and not a word of it makes since to me, just his reasoning. So, be it................
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Living with personal dragons in your daily life by Russ from PTSD Support Services
At the present time, I have a Veteran's Administration Service Connected disability rating of 100% based on PTSD. The primary trauma accrued within a 48-hour period while on active duty in Vietnam. During this time I, along with my unit, was bombed by our own B-52's. Ending up walking next to an unexploded 750-pound bomb. Then walking into an ambush that took most of the lives within my unit and watching while rescue helicopters were being shot down trying to remove me and other wounded from the battle zone where I had received combat wounds.
My family background is traditional and is based on an extended family that included a great deal of interaction between grandparents, uncles/aunts and their children. Family get-togethers and family picnics during the summer stand out in my mind the most. Although my father died when I was only 9 years old, the "Father Role" was filled by one of my uncles.
Since leaving the Army, I have found life difficult and trying for me. Many times over the last 30 years and even more often in recent times, I have felt that ending my life would be best solution for me. After losing my teaching job at a college I returned to the travel industry where I have been employed for most of my adult life. But only after a short time (3 months) I lost this job because of an angry outburst on my part. I have looked back on my life and feel that I have accomplished little in my life, my depression has taken its toll, and I'm very tired because of this depression.
Through therapy I am learning to recognize many of my PTSD problems (Dragons) that I was not aware of before starting. These symptoms, listed at the bottom of this report, have been so much a part of my life that I did not recognize them as being out of the ordinary. Since November 1996 I have emotionally continued on a downward spiral fighting this ingrained PTSD.
I will emphasize my deficiencies in the areas of work, family relations, and lack of anger management, plus other areas. I am unable to accept authority in the workplace, which is very stressful to me and I get feelings that it’s necessary for me to change jobs because of the lack of satisfaction where/when I have worked.
Even though I’ve had many personal relationships, lasting several months, I still feel that I am isolated from people and the communities that I have live in. I feel that every time that someone has tried to be a friend, I push them away so that they don't learn of my past or for fear of losing them later as it happened so many times during my tours of duty in Vietnam.
I do not socialize well nor do I like to interact with most other people around me. For most of my life I have lived within a closed world. I have only one true friend, who is also a Vietnam vet, and I do not allow people to get close to me. This way I do not expose myself to inquiry about the war or the part that I played in it.
For the last 30 years I have not lived a normal happy life.
I have repeatedly moved around the country looking for the “right” place to live, never being happy in any one place for longer than two years. I’ve been married three times. I’ve had 20 plus live-in girlfriends plus hundreds of short-term/one night relationships. It seems that anytime a woman tries to be close to me emotionally I push them away and I look for someone else. I try to find contentment, satisfaction and happiness with women but all it turns into is sexual gratification and escapism for me. I have found that I do not allow anyone near me on a personal/emotional level and still do not allow it today. These relationships, for the most part, have been for sexual gratification or emotional numbing only.
I am always looking for a better life, the right woman to be my wife, a better job, or place to live. I have, for many years, believed that I won’t live past the age of 62. It’s my belief that I will not retire like normal people do.
I am a person, who would rather be out in the middle of nowhere than being forced into socializing with most, if not all people. This has caused additional problems in my relationships and I do not see any future change.
Within this 30-year time frame I have had and lost many jobs, quitting most of them, and I have never been successful in the business world. I feel that I have had many good ideas but have never followed through with them to completion. The fear of success can be overwhelming.
I am an “Emotional Stuffer” in the true sense of the word. I do not convey my feelings nor do I express my feelings to anyone very well. I have a difficult time being open with people and not wishing to hurt other people’s feelings I seldom express myself openly. During several times of great stress or anger, I have lived in isolation away from everyone, preferring to live in the mountains. I am much more comfortable living in small towns and even more so in a rural setting like a farm or ranch with no neighbors close by to my family or me.
Anger is the main controlling force in my life and I use it as a tool to protect myself from harm, which has accrued or may accrue in my life since Vietnam. This perceived danger can happen even in my life today and has been reflected in daily events as simple as yelling a people for blocking an aisle at a store while I'm trying to pass by.
I must admit that I do spend time confused as to the date, place or time that I'm in. Finding it necessary to relay on others for appointments, I'm usually at least a day or two off but its not uncommon for me to be at least a year off when trying to remember events in my life. While teaching, it was necessary for my secretary to keep track of events I needed to go to since I would forget where I was supposed to be.
I find it difficult to adjust to changing events or circumstances around me but especially in the business world. I either have quit or have been fired from many (30) jobs since 1967 when I returned from Vietnam. I have found that the stress of working and making business decisions or the responsibilities related to work is very frustrating for me. Its common for me to have anxiety attacks at work, worrying about if I'm doing the job correctly and if so will I remember to continue that way. It is not uncommon for me to start a new job, find it enjoyable, work hard and learn about the position I'm in, than become bored in a very short time. I have even received promotions and than become so concerned about my performance that I quit and move to a new location just so people would not have to trust me.
I have been in combat situations over six times. Since going into the Denver PTSD program even more events and their related flashbacks have been added to my memory as each recollections happen. Each flashback event presents me with their own images and many are now on a daily basis. Most flashbacks are vivid when they occur. With people dying, trees blowing apart and my fears and terror. Some are seen as in-complete events and I'm not seeing all that had happened nor with other people in them. Others visions are only images viewed through a small window of the fight. Many nights I find it hard to go to sleep, stay asleep or I wake up with cold sweat nightmares that I do not remember.
I have to live with anger and irritability on a daily basis. I am now dealing with frustrations over my “missed” life, a life that I’ve craved for and will never have now because of my age. I am bitter with the government and the Veterans Administration for the lack of insight into PTSD and the effects that it has had on my life as well as others that experienced Vietnam and the reactions of people upon my return from service there. When PTSD became a recognized disorder, 1981 (?), I personally feel that not enough effort was made to evaluate Vietnam Veterans for PTSD.
I do have a BA degree in geography. The major difficulty is that it is very non-specific in subject content and has not provided me with useful tools for outside employment after graduation. But now I feel so discouraged and depressed in life I will not go any further in my education. This is based on my lack of concentration, retention of material, memory problems, plus personal concern in my ability to study and learn.
During my time in Vietnam I got into the habit of going to sleep on my left side. The reasoning for this is to get my heart as close to the ground as possible. We had the feeling that during an attack the first rounds from the VC would be high so I wanted to protect myself as best I could. That is one habit that has carried over to today and I still make every effort to go to sleep on my left side.
I wake up in the middle of the night on many occasions with unknown sweat dreams. This is an ongoing problem that I have had for many, many years. I jerk awake in the middle of the night soaking wet, or at the very least, wet around the neck and shoulders. I have caused bruises to several girlfriends and wives waking up this way.
One of the most vivid dreams and recurring dreams deals with my exposure to leeches after being hit and lying in a rice paddy for a night. When I woke up I had many, many leaches on me. I spent almost an hour looking for leeches then burning them off of me with cigarettes.
First, Flashbacks: I experience them. They can occur for no reason and without warning, coming from out of nowhere, or during times of stress. Secondly, Sounds: Sometime with a backfire, helicopter fly-byes, hail bouncing on a roof, close hitting lightning or distant thunder will produce a flashback. I return to Vietnam and my experiences come back to me. Thirdly, Smells have an effect on me: There are several smells that can cause an event but the most forceful smells are: Diesel fumes from truck exhaust or the smell of vomit.
I deal with anxiety attacks that can be rather forceful at times. They develop at any time and can last up to several days. Many others of these attacks are short in length and can be produced by the following: Diesel fuel smell, stress, anger at a news story that I feel there were injustices being done to someone. Grief or sadness for someone that has had a loss of a loved one or by watching a happy ending movie will have an effect on me. Sometime even bringing tears to my eye or a full outright crying session.
I will usually have an anxiety attack after bouts of anger. I wonder what the outcome of this anger will be in my personal life or business life. They have occurred in both, which has led to breakups of relationships, marriages and loss of employment.
I have a very difficult time controlling my anger. Recent events illustrate this, in August 1997, during a presentation to a travel group I lost my temper because the group could not make a decision on a departure date. This cost me another job and increased my negative outlook about myself in general and about my life as well. My self-esteem is pretty low at this time.
I wish to list here is my aversion of being in any crowd or people in general. I do not do not do not like, nor enjoy crowds of people. This includes movie theaters, cafeterias with long lines, long lines of any kind, sporting events, or malls. A simple example of this is that I did not go to any of my school graduations while in college. It seems that I’m always on guard!
Because of thoughts about Vietnam and my past, I have difficulty falling and staying asleep. I have remorse over what I’ve missed because of my PTSD. Even though the knowledge of the effects have come to light only over the last two years, I realize that it is something that I’ve had since discharge from the service! I experience a great deal of irritability and outbursts of anger over this fact!
Most of the PTSD events listed above recur after I have experienced some form of stressful situation or I have become angry over something that has occurred that day. At other times, I can experience them with no forewarning at all. I seem to have no control over these things when they happen anyway. I have had little success in getting my anger, frustrations, short temper, nor my disappointments with life under control.
10 Ways to Recognize Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
After a loss, it is normal to go through a natural grieving process. Sometimes, however, after a tragedy, such as a sudden traumatic event, feelings of loss surface several weeks or months after the tragedy occurred. This is called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Recognizing these symptoms in yourself or others is the first step toward recovery and finding appropriate treatment.
1) Re-experiencing the event through vivid memories or flash backs
2) Feeling “emotionally numb”
3) Feeling overwhelmed by what would normally be considered everyday situations and diminished interest in performing normal tasks or pursuing usual interests
4) Crying uncontrollably
5) Isolating oneself from family and friends and avoiding social situations
6) Relying increasingly on alcohol or drugs to get through the day
7) Feeling extremely moody, irritable, angry, suspicious or frightened
8) Having difficulty falling or staying asleep, sleeping too much and experiencing nightmares
9) Feeling guilty about surviving the event or being unable to solve the problem, change the event or prevent the disaster
10) Feeling fears and sense of doom about the future
Russ also says” My PTSD is combat induced, while a rape/incest/abused person would have different trauma reactions. For your information, traffic accidents are now the greatest producer of PTSD in the USA today.”
A veterans way to cope
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Living with personal dragons in your daily life by Russ from PTSD Support Services
At the present time, I have a Veteran's Administration Service Connected disability rating of 100% based on PTSD. The primary trauma accrued within a 48-hour period while on active duty in Vietnam. During this time I, along with my unit, was bombed by our own B-52's. Ending up walking next to an unexploded 750-pound bomb. Then walking into an ambush that took most of the lives within my unit and watching while rescue helicopters were being shot down trying to remove me and other wounded from the battle zone where I had received combat wounds.
My family background is traditional and is based on an extended family that included a great deal of interaction between grandparents, uncles/aunts and their children. Family get-togethers and family picnics during the summer stand out in my mind the most. Although my father died when I was only 9 years old, the "Father Role" was filled by one of my uncles.
Since leaving the Army, I have found life difficult and trying for me. Many times over the last 30 years and even more often in recent times, I have felt that ending my life would be best solution for me. After losing my teaching job at a college I returned to the travel industry where I have been employed for most of my adult life. But only after a short time (3 months) I lost this job because of an angry outburst on my part. I have looked back on my life and feel that I have accomplished little in my life, my depression has taken its toll, and I'm very tired because of this depression.
Through therapy I am learning to recognize many of my PTSD problems (Dragons) that I was not aware of before starting. These symptoms, listed at the bottom of this report, have been so much a part of my life that I did not recognize them as being out of the ordinary. Since November 1996 I have emotionally continued on a downward spiral fighting this ingrained PTSD.
I will emphasize my deficiencies in the areas of work, family relations, and lack of anger management, plus other areas. I am unable to accept authority in the workplace, which is very stressful to me and I get feelings that it’s necessary for me to change jobs because of the lack of satisfaction where/when I have worked.
Even though I’ve had many personal relationships, lasting several months, I still feel that I am isolated from people and the communities that I have live in. I feel that every time that someone has tried to be a friend, I push them away so that they don't learn of my past or for fear of losing them later as it happened so many times during my tours of duty in Vietnam.
I do not socialize well nor do I like to interact with most other people around me. For most of my life I have lived within a closed world. I have only one true friend, who is also a Vietnam vet, and I do not allow people to get close to me. This way I do not expose myself to inquiry about the war or the part that I played in it.
For the last 30 years I have not lived a normal happy life.
I have repeatedly moved around the country looking for the “right” place to live, never being happy in any one place for longer than two years. I’ve been married three times. I’ve had 20 plus live-in girlfriends plus hundreds of short-term/one night relationships. It seems that anytime a woman tries to be close to me emotionally I push them away and I look for someone else. I try to find contentment, satisfaction and happiness with women but all it turns into is sexual gratification and escapism for me. I have found that I do not allow anyone near me on a personal/emotional level and still do not allow it today. These relationships, for the most part, have been for sexual gratification or emotional numbing only.
I am always looking for a better life, the right woman to be my wife, a better job, or place to live. I have, for many years, believed that I won’t live past the age of 62. It’s my belief that I will not retire like normal people do.
I am a person, who would rather be out in the middle of nowhere than being forced into socializing with most, if not all people. This has caused additional problems in my relationships and I do not see any future change.
Within this 30-year time frame I have had and lost many jobs, quitting most of them, and I have never been successful in the business world. I feel that I have had many good ideas but have never followed through with them to completion. The fear of success can be overwhelming.
I am an “Emotional Stuffer” in the true sense of the word. I do not convey my feelings nor do I express my feelings to anyone very well. I have a difficult time being open with people and not wishing to hurt other people’s feelings I seldom express myself openly. During several times of great stress or anger, I have lived in isolation away from everyone, preferring to live in the mountains. I am much more comfortable living in small towns and even more so in a rural setting like a farm or ranch with no neighbors close by to my family or me.
Anger is the main controlling force in my life and I use it as a tool to protect myself from harm, which has accrued or may accrue in my life since Vietnam. This perceived danger can happen even in my life today and has been reflected in daily events as simple as yelling a people for blocking an aisle at a store while I'm trying to pass by.
I must admit that I do spend time confused as to the date, place or time that I'm in. Finding it necessary to relay on others for appointments, I'm usually at least a day or two off but its not uncommon for me to be at least a year off when trying to remember events in my life. While teaching, it was necessary for my secretary to keep track of events I needed to go to since I would forget where I was supposed to be.
I find it difficult to adjust to changing events or circumstances around me but especially in the business world. I either have quit or have been fired from many (30) jobs since 1967 when I returned from Vietnam. I have found that the stress of working and making business decisions or the responsibilities related to work is very frustrating for me. Its common for me to have anxiety attacks at work, worrying about if I'm doing the job correctly and if so will I remember to continue that way. It is not uncommon for me to start a new job, find it enjoyable, work hard and learn about the position I'm in, than become bored in a very short time. I have even received promotions and than become so concerned about my performance that I quit and move to a new location just so people would not have to trust me.
I have been in combat situations over six times. Since going into the Denver PTSD program even more events and their related flashbacks have been added to my memory as each recollections happen. Each flashback event presents me with their own images and many are now on a daily basis. Most flashbacks are vivid when they occur. With people dying, trees blowing apart and my fears and terror. Some are seen as in-complete events and I'm not seeing all that had happened nor with other people in them. Others visions are only images viewed through a small window of the fight. Many nights I find it hard to go to sleep, stay asleep or I wake up with cold sweat nightmares that I do not remember.
I have to live with anger and irritability on a daily basis. I am now dealing with frustrations over my “missed” life, a life that I’ve craved for and will never have now because of my age. I am bitter with the government and the Veterans Administration for the lack of insight into PTSD and the effects that it has had on my life as well as others that experienced Vietnam and the reactions of people upon my return from service there. When PTSD became a recognized disorder, 1981 (?), I personally feel that not enough effort was made to evaluate Vietnam Veterans for PTSD.
I do have a BA degree in geography. The major difficulty is that it is very non-specific in subject content and has not provided me with useful tools for outside employment after graduation. But now I feel so discouraged and depressed in life I will not go any further in my education. This is based on my lack of concentration, retention of material, memory problems, plus personal concern in my ability to study and learn.
During my time in Vietnam I got into the habit of going to sleep on my left side. The reasoning for this is to get my heart as close to the ground as possible. We had the feeling that during an attack the first rounds from the VC would be high so I wanted to protect myself as best I could. That is one habit that has carried over to today and I still make every effort to go to sleep on my left side.
I wake up in the middle of the night on many occasions with unknown sweat dreams. This is an ongoing problem that I have had for many, many years. I jerk awake in the middle of the night soaking wet, or at the very least, wet around the neck and shoulders. I have caused bruises to several girlfriends and wives waking up this way.
One of the most vivid dreams and recurring dreams deals with my exposure to leeches after being hit and lying in a rice paddy for a night. When I woke up I had many, many leaches on me. I spent almost an hour looking for leeches then burning them off of me with cigarettes.
First, Flashbacks: I experience them. They can occur for no reason and without warning, coming from out of nowhere, or during times of stress. Secondly, Sounds: Sometime with a backfire, helicopter fly-byes, hail bouncing on a roof, close hitting lightning or distant thunder will produce a flashback. I return to Vietnam and my experiences come back to me. Thirdly, Smells have an effect on me: There are several smells that can cause an event but the most forceful smells are: Diesel fumes from truck exhaust or the smell of vomit.
I deal with anxiety attacks that can be rather forceful at times. They develop at any time and can last up to several days. Many others of these attacks are short in length and can be produced by the following: Diesel fuel smell, stress, anger at a news story that I feel there were injustices being done to someone. Grief or sadness for someone that has had a loss of a loved one or by watching a happy ending movie will have an effect on me. Sometime even bringing tears to my eye or a full outright crying session.
I will usually have an anxiety attack after bouts of anger. I wonder what the outcome of this anger will be in my personal life or business life. They have occurred in both, which has led to breakups of relationships, marriages and loss of employment.
I have a very difficult time controlling my anger. Recent events illustrate this, in August 1997, during a presentation to a travel group I lost my temper because the group could not make a decision on a departure date. This cost me another job and increased my negative outlook about myself in general and about my life as well. My self-esteem is pretty low at this time.
I wish to list here is my aversion of being in any crowd or people in general. I do not do not do not like, nor enjoy crowds of people. This includes movie theaters, cafeterias with long lines, long lines of any kind, sporting events, or malls. A simple example of this is that I did not go to any of my school graduations while in college. It seems that I’m always on guard!
Because of thoughts about Vietnam and my past, I have difficulty falling and staying asleep. I have remorse over what I’ve missed because of my PTSD. Even though the knowledge of the effects have come to light only over the last two years, I realize that it is something that I’ve had since discharge from the service! I experience a great deal of irritability and outbursts of anger over this fact!
Most of the PTSD events listed above recur after I have experienced some form of stressful situation or I have become angry over something that has occurred that day. At other times, I can experience them with no forewarning at all. I seem to have no control over these things when they happen anyway. I have had little success in getting my anger, frustrations, short temper, nor my disappointments with life under control.
10 Ways to Recognize Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
After a loss, it is normal to go through a natural grieving process. Sometimes, however, after a tragedy, such as a sudden traumatic event, feelings of loss surface several weeks or months after the tragedy occurred. This is called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Recognizing these symptoms in yourself or others is the first step toward recovery and finding appropriate treatment.
1) Re-experiencing the event through vivid memories or flash backs
2) Feeling “emotionally numb”
3) Feeling overwhelmed by what would normally be considered everyday situations and diminished interest in performing normal tasks or pursuing usual interests
4) Crying uncontrollably
5) Isolating oneself from family and friends and avoiding social situations
6) Relying increasingly on alcohol or drugs to get through the day
7) Feeling extremely moody, irritable, angry, suspicious or frightened
8) Having difficulty falling or staying asleep, sleeping too much and experiencing nightmares
9) Feeling guilty about surviving the event or being unable to solve the problem, change the event or prevent the disaster
10) Feeling fears and sense of doom about the future
Russ also says” My PTSD is combat induced, while a rape/incest/abused person would have different trauma reactions. For your information, traffic accidents are now the greatest producer of PTSD in the USA today.”
Living with personal dragons in your daily life by Russ from PTSD Support Services
At the present time, I have a Veteran's Administration Service Connected disability rating of 100% based on PTSD. The primary trauma accrued within a 48-hour period while on active duty in Vietnam. During this time I, along with my unit, was bombed by our own B-52's. Ending up walking next to an unexploded 750-pound bomb. Then walking into an ambush that took most of the lives within my unit and watching while rescue helicopters were being shot down trying to remove me and other wounded from the battle zone where I had received combat wounds.
My family background is traditional and is based on an extended family that included a great deal of interaction between grandparents, uncles/aunts and their children. Family get-togethers and family picnics during the summer stand out in my mind the most. Although my father died when I was only 9 years old, the "Father Role" was filled by one of my uncles.
Since leaving the Army, I have found life difficult and trying for me. Many times over the last 30 years and even more often in recent times, I have felt that ending my life would be best solution for me. After losing my teaching job at a college I returned to the travel industry where I have been employed for most of my adult life. But only after a short time (3 months) I lost this job because of an angry outburst on my part. I have looked back on my life and feel that I have accomplished little in my life, my depression has taken its toll, and I'm very tired because of this depression.
Through therapy I am learning to recognize many of my PTSD problems (Dragons) that I was not aware of before starting. These symptoms, listed at the bottom of this report, have been so much a part of my life that I did not recognize them as being out of the ordinary. Since November 1996 I have emotionally continued on a downward spiral fighting this ingrained PTSD.
I will emphasize my deficiencies in the areas of work, family relations, and lack of anger management, plus other areas. I am unable to accept authority in the workplace, which is very stressful to me and I get feelings that it’s necessary for me to change jobs because of the lack of satisfaction where/when I have worked.
Even though I’ve had many personal relationships, lasting several months, I still feel that I am isolated from people and the communities that I have live in. I feel that every time that someone has tried to be a friend, I push them away so that they don't learn of my past or for fear of losing them later as it happened so many times during my tours of duty in Vietnam.
I do not socialize well nor do I like to interact with most other people around me. For most of my life I have lived within a closed world. I have only one true friend, who is also a Vietnam vet, and I do not allow people to get close to me. This way I do not expose myself to inquiry about the war or the part that I played in it.
For the last 30 years I have not lived a normal happy life.
I have repeatedly moved around the country looking for the “right” place to live, never being happy in any one place for longer than two years. I’ve been married three times. I’ve had 20 plus live-in girlfriends plus hundreds of short-term/one night relationships. It seems that anytime a woman tries to be close to me emotionally I push them away and I look for someone else. I try to find contentment, satisfaction and happiness with women but all it turns into is sexual gratification and escapism for me. I have found that I do not allow anyone near me on a personal/emotional level and still do not allow it today. These relationships, for the most part, have been for sexual gratification or emotional numbing only.
I am always looking for a better life, the right woman to be my wife, a better job, or place to live. I have, for many years, believed that I won’t live past the age of 62. It’s my belief that I will not retire like normal people do.
I am a person, who would rather be out in the middle of nowhere than being forced into socializing with most, if not all people. This has caused additional problems in my relationships and I do not see any future change.
Within this 30-year time frame I have had and lost many jobs, quitting most of them, and I have never been successful in the business world. I feel that I have had many good ideas but have never followed through with them to completion. The fear of success can be overwhelming.
I am an “Emotional Stuffer” in the true sense of the word. I do not convey my feelings nor do I express my feelings to anyone very well. I have a difficult time being open with people and not wishing to hurt other people’s feelings I seldom express myself openly. During several times of great stress or anger, I have lived in isolation away from everyone, preferring to live in the mountains. I am much more comfortable living in small towns and even more so in a rural setting like a farm or ranch with no neighbors close by to my family or me.
Anger is the main controlling force in my life and I use it as a tool to protect myself from harm, which has accrued or may accrue in my life since Vietnam. This perceived danger can happen even in my life today and has been reflected in daily events as simple as yelling a people for blocking an aisle at a store while I'm trying to pass by.
I must admit that I do spend time confused as to the date, place or time that I'm in. Finding it necessary to relay on others for appointments, I'm usually at least a day or two off but its not uncommon for me to be at least a year off when trying to remember events in my life. While teaching, it was necessary for my secretary to keep track of events I needed to go to since I would forget where I was supposed to be.
I find it difficult to adjust to changing events or circumstances around me but especially in the business world. I either have quit or have been fired from many (30) jobs since 1967 when I returned from Vietnam. I have found that the stress of working and making business decisions or the responsibilities related to work is very frustrating for me. Its common for me to have anxiety attacks at work, worrying about if I'm doing the job correctly and if so will I remember to continue that way. It is not uncommon for me to start a new job, find it enjoyable, work hard and learn about the position I'm in, than become bored in a very short time. I have even received promotions and than become so concerned about my performance that I quit and move to a new location just so people would not have to trust me.
I have been in combat situations over six times. Since going into the Denver PTSD program even more events and their related flashbacks have been added to my memory as each recollections happen. Each flashback event presents me with their own images and many are now on a daily basis. Most flashbacks are vivid when they occur. With people dying, trees blowing apart and my fears and terror. Some are seen as in-complete events and I'm not seeing all that had happened nor with other people in them. Others visions are only images viewed through a small window of the fight. Many nights I find it hard to go to sleep, stay asleep or I wake up with cold sweat nightmares that I do not remember.
I have to live with anger and irritability on a daily basis. I am now dealing with frustrations over my “missed” life, a life that I’ve craved for and will never have now because of my age. I am bitter with the government and the Veterans Administration for the lack of insight into PTSD and the effects that it has had on my life as well as others that experienced Vietnam and the reactions of people upon my return from service there. When PTSD became a recognized disorder, 1981 (?), I personally feel that not enough effort was made to evaluate Vietnam Veterans for PTSD.
I do have a BA degree in geography. The major difficulty is that it is very non-specific in subject content and has not provided me with useful tools for outside employment after graduation. But now I feel so discouraged and depressed in life I will not go any further in my education. This is based on my lack of concentration, retention of material, memory problems, plus personal concern in my ability to study and learn.
During my time in Vietnam I got into the habit of going to sleep on my left side. The reasoning for this is to get my heart as close to the ground as possible. We had the feeling that during an attack the first rounds from the VC would be high so I wanted to protect myself as best I could. That is one habit that has carried over to today and I still make every effort to go to sleep on my left side.
I wake up in the middle of the night on many occasions with unknown sweat dreams. This is an ongoing problem that I have had for many, many years. I jerk awake in the middle of the night soaking wet, or at the very least, wet around the neck and shoulders. I have caused bruises to several girlfriends and wives waking up this way.
One of the most vivid dreams and recurring dreams deals with my exposure to leeches after being hit and lying in a rice paddy for a night. When I woke up I had many, many leaches on me. I spent almost an hour looking for leeches then burning them off of me with cigarettes.
First, Flashbacks: I experience them. They can occur for no reason and without warning, coming from out of nowhere, or during times of stress. Secondly, Sounds: Sometime with a backfire, helicopter fly-byes, hail bouncing on a roof, close hitting lightning or distant thunder will produce a flashback. I return to Vietnam and my experiences come back to me. Thirdly, Smells have an effect on me: There are several smells that can cause an event but the most forceful smells are: Diesel fumes from truck exhaust or the smell of vomit.
I deal with anxiety attacks that can be rather forceful at times. They develop at any time and can last up to several days. Many others of these attacks are short in length and can be produced by the following: Diesel fuel smell, stress, anger at a news story that I feel there were injustices being done to someone. Grief or sadness for someone that has had a loss of a loved one or by watching a happy ending movie will have an effect on me. Sometime even bringing tears to my eye or a full outright crying session.
I will usually have an anxiety attack after bouts of anger. I wonder what the outcome of this anger will be in my personal life or business life. They have occurred in both, which has led to breakups of relationships, marriages and loss of employment.
I have a very difficult time controlling my anger. Recent events illustrate this, in August 1997, during a presentation to a travel group I lost my temper because the group could not make a decision on a departure date. This cost me another job and increased my negative outlook about myself in general and about my life as well. My self-esteem is pretty low at this time.
I wish to list here is my aversion of being in any crowd or people in general. I do not do not do not like, nor enjoy crowds of people. This includes movie theaters, cafeterias with long lines, long lines of any kind, sporting events, or malls. A simple example of this is that I did not go to any of my school graduations while in college. It seems that I’m always on guard!
Because of thoughts about Vietnam and my past, I have difficulty falling and staying asleep. I have remorse over what I’ve missed because of my PTSD. Even though the knowledge of the effects have come to light only over the last two years, I realize that it is something that I’ve had since discharge from the service! I experience a great deal of irritability and outbursts of anger over this fact!
Most of the PTSD events listed above recur after I have experienced some form of stressful situation or I have become angry over something that has occurred that day. At other times, I can experience them with no forewarning at all. I seem to have no control over these things when they happen anyway. I have had little success in getting my anger, frustrations, short temper, nor my disappointments with life under control.
10 Ways to Recognize Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
After a loss, it is normal to go through a natural grieving process. Sometimes, however, after a tragedy, such as a sudden traumatic event, feelings of loss surface several weeks or months after the tragedy occurred. This is called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Recognizing these symptoms in yourself or others is the first step toward recovery and finding appropriate treatment.
1) Re-experiencing the event through vivid memories or flash backs
2) Feeling “emotionally numb”
3) Feeling overwhelmed by what would normally be considered everyday situations and diminished interest in performing normal tasks or pursuing usual interests
4) Crying uncontrollably
5) Isolating oneself from family and friends and avoiding social situations
6) Relying increasingly on alcohol or drugs to get through the day
7) Feeling extremely moody, irritable, angry, suspicious or frightened
8) Having difficulty falling or staying asleep, sleeping too much and experiencing nightmares
9) Feeling guilty about surviving the event or being unable to solve the problem, change the event or prevent the disaster
10) Feeling fears and sense of doom about the future
Russ also says” My PTSD is combat induced, while a rape/incest/abused person would have different trauma reactions. For your information, traffic accidents are now the greatest producer of PTSD in the USA today.”
PTSD. My story
Personal Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Stories
Airborne One
I.
Oh Lord, what am I doing here? This place is such a dump. Although I must say it was very kind of that relative stranger to give me the key to his hunting shack, so that I could get out of the public eye. My nerves are completely shot. All this shaking makes me feel like a Parkinson's patient. This place smells of mold and piss. The floors are rotten and the mattress feels like a dirty hot dog bun. What a dump, I feel so alone. God, I want to go home, but I am afraid he will try to kill me again if I do. Please damn the doctors for mixing his medication; they have stolen the man I have known away from me. His brown eyes are gray now and his skin is speckled with white spots. His face looks like someone else's. God, please keep my daughter safe, I cannot look at her right now. As a matter of fact I think I might just lay here and die. God, I am unable to write. Will you please tell my family I love them? I know nobody will understand. But my heart cannot beat anymore tonight.
My veins began to feel like ice on this hot summer day, as I fell deeper into shock. I really meant it; I couldn't take anymore of the crazy traumatic events. My life had become a shamble since my husband's arm went though that meat grinder. Surgeries, doctors visits, more meds, insurance companies, bills, mental illness and suicide seem to have become more frequent than not. Ironically, I lay here wanting to die because I saved my love from his own hand, only for him to try to kill me for getting in his way. He was the only person in my life that I have ever trusted, and he put a large butcher knife to my throat and he meant it. I bashed his head in to escape.
Oh God, I sobbed; I can't believe I busted his head open. I want to be dead. The revolver I found in the drawer was becoming my new lover. I caressed it gently. My life had become a shamble, a joke, an absolute joke. I no longer felt any hope. The blood gushing from his head, replayed again and again as if it were right in front of me. My body was unable to walk or hold down liquids. I have lost so much weight that I look like an Ethiopian. I have gone to the E.R., four churches and called a hotline. What a joke. Nobody really gives a shit. They are all in their fields to stroke their own egos, not help someone like me. I can't even look at myself. When I try, I see eyes that are vacant. There is nobody home.
Settling in to do the dirty deed, I realized I was not alone. A shape, a shape of a man with ears that stuck out just a little, stood there. He had a firm jaw line and a small but muscular build. He wore a white tee shirt, blue jeans and had a lit cigarette.
"Really…great I truly have lost my mind, now I see a smoking ghost, okay fine, I had better do this before I get committed." Strangely though my veins suddenly became very warm, and I felt a profound indescribable love and well being.
"Are you an angel?"
The man found that statement overly amusing. Laughingly he replied, " No doll I'm no angel. I am just your guardian."
He sat down beside me, and the warmth became more intense. As he came closer I saw his eyes were blue. He reached over and touched my hair in a matter of fact way.
"Such a pretty, pretty little girl is all the paramedics are going to say as they shake there heads and haul you away. They will all wish they could have saved you and then go to bed thinking what a damn shame."
He went on speaking, "You cannot die tonight. The others on the other side will view ending your life in poor taste. They will label you a coward and they are not at all kind to cowards. Besides, if you are not afraid of dying, you should not be afraid of living. What is the worst that could happen? Maybe die?" He then chuckled at his own funny.
"At least if you die in battle you could say you at least had the balls to try. Besides I believe you have a mission to complete. Even if that mission takes your life, you must complete it."
"Who are you?" I blurted almost in a panic.
"Robert Freeman, Lt. Freeman, other wise known as Airborne one."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm stuck, why are you here?"
"I have no where to go and what do you mean your stuck?"
"Well apparently when I died on September 7, 1943 in that attack over Italy I wasn't ready to go. It was a huge explosion. There were pieces flying everywhere, but I couldn't find Mary." He paused and looked sadly at me.
"You look just like her, she was a hell of a pilot. I was in love and I couldn't leave because I had to find here. So now I am stuck, co-peach compadre?"
"I'm sorry, how old were you?"
"Twenty eight."
"Did you ever find her?"
"No apparently she crossed before she hit the water. She always was smarter than me." He flicked his cigarette in an agitated manner.
"Why can't you cross?"
Mockingly he chuckle and lit up another cigarette, "because I'm no angel."
"You on the other hand, have to do what it is you have to do. First, you have to believe in me. I will help you. Me and my boys."
"Your boys?"
"Honey there are more dead soldiers roaming the earth than you could ever conceive. We help our own kind. You are a leader; we will be your army. You're a tough little girl. I saw the brut strength you have. Why do you collapse? He fucked up, but he is not well and you know it. You know what the doctors have put him through; you cannot abandon him or your daughter. Go rescue him, rescue your one true love or neither of you shall ever find peace."
"The counselors and reverends say I should leave him. They say he will try to kill me again if I go home."
"Don't fear death doll. We will protect you; nobody can harm you. Now get up and eat, shower and get some sleep. You look like shit girlie."
Strangely, my body was no longer shaking and my legs worked long enough to rinse off in the shower, but I found no food. At four a.m. I dozed off.
II.
My eyes fluttered open to the sounds of cows grazing not far from the house. The sun was shining brilliantly in a crystal clear sky. I sat up and wiggled my toes. "Sheesh eleven o'clock. I can't remember the last time I slept until eleven. Okay I guess the first thing I need to do is clean up around here, and then go and buy me some clothes, shoes and makeup." I had been run out barefoot with just my purse and keys.
"Don't forget the beer!"
As I spun around there stood another soldier.
"Who are you?"
"Danielle McKeinzie."
He was a bit of a round soft man with a baby face, blue eyes, a very short crew cut and a gentle grin.
"Oh and cigarettes, but none of those light ones, those things are like smoking air."
Stupidly, I stood there in disbelief. Okay fine I have lost my mind. Beer and cigarettes. Anything else?
"No nothing else. Yeah, Robert told us your were a little freaked out, it's okay, we love you anyway. Hey, don't you remember us? Or don't you remember the attack in the freight yard in Italy?
"Excuse me?" was all I could manage.
"Yeah you know when I got shot in the belly, I begged you to go on without me and tell my mother I loved her. But no, not you. You drug me all along those tracks and tried to patch me up. I remember my head kept getting banged on the tracks and you kept saying oh, I'm sorry, please don't die, don't fucken die on me! I was really touched by the sincerity of your tears, I remember wanting to reach up and kiss you. Is that wrong?"
Dazed I realized he expected a reply of some kind, "Is what wrong?"
"That I wanted to kiss my best friends fiancé?"
"Under the circumstances, I guess one would be forgiven."
"So you really have no memory of it?"
"No, no, no I…I don't, not at all."
I edged out the door and got into the car, this week was getting really weird. I went and dressed my self properly, although the looks I received going into the shoe store barefoot was a bit amusing. Thank God for credit cars, but I think the store clerk really thought I had stolen it. I brought back a carry out hamburger plate from Applebee's and a few groceries. I ate and slept for the next five days to rebuild my strength. The conversations were endless.
I also got to know Scotty, a small man with sandy hair, brown eyes and freckles across his nose. He had been a cook and had the sweetest disposition; he tended to be easy going. Then there was Vern. Vern was a trip. He was a large man with thick unruly dark hair and just one large eyebrow and dark framed glasses. Vern rarely smiled and seemed tense. He was the troubleshooter, the mechanic. He was somewhat an idiot on the matter of emotions but he was extremely intelligent in the laws of science. Then there was Richard who had been a bomb technician. He was a rebel. He was too tall, to thin but possessed a devilish grin. Richard was fearless and energetic, with dark hair and crooked teeth. He could pry from me a grin every time I saw his pale gray eyes light up at his own warped sense of humor. They were a good crew full of humor, and in their presence was an infinite love. Words cannot possibly do this feeling justice, but I would compare it to the feeling of holding your own baby for the first time, there just really is not anything else like it.
III.
I did return home as a warrior. Many of those I had known swore they no longer knew me; they said that I was different. I could not tell them why. That was in 1996. I had become fearless with my boys at my back. They had my back. Many more came to call. Often they would just rattle on and on about everyday things and most seemed totally amused by new technology. Robert sat on my bed at night and rubbed my hair. Every time he touched me I felt warmth flow through my veins.
It was with their help I saw my husband make a full recovery and I was able to provide a stable home for my daughter. It was not an easy endeavor, it was a war, a battle that required not stepping on the land minds and making things happen that might ultimately led to peace. I often did not think I would live, but I seemed to be okay with that. My boys always talked me through the tough moments. They gave me information, warned of danger, and reminded me I was protected. They humored me, pushed me to do more for myself and it seemed I had become indestructible. They brought to my life a profound faith in God and the element of hope. I often had seizures and felt rage that made me beat my head out of frustration. But my boys were there every time to pick me up, they said they understood the pain, they always told me that they cared. They loved me and tended to me when I became ill.
PTSD became the diagnoses in 2000 following a trip to my hometown for a funeral. As I tried to integrate back into society I also tried to rationalize that my soldiers were not real. I mean society just could not accept my experience; instead they would look at me as if I had three heads, so I felt it should be done away with. I sent them away telling them I had to do this alone. I was grateful to them but felt it was time to regain what is considered a normal life. The more rational I became the more depressed and lonely I became. When I severed my ties with my boys at the bidding of society, in order to find acceptance, I lost my faith and my hope; life felt empty and barren. Then I found they were still there, I had just chosen not to see them.
Society in general seems to believe that insanity is always bad, a thing to be cured. I think maybe it is not insanity, as much as maybe there is more out there than a rational mind can possibly understand. Why is that insane? Why should that be cured?
I will always love my boys; to me they are as real as anything anyone can touch. They are as real as God. They serve God. I cannot have faith in one and not the other. I owe them my life. To be so called cured would be to not believe in anything.
Airborne One
I.
Oh Lord, what am I doing here? This place is such a dump. Although I must say it was very kind of that relative stranger to give me the key to his hunting shack, so that I could get out of the public eye. My nerves are completely shot. All this shaking makes me feel like a Parkinson's patient. This place smells of mold and piss. The floors are rotten and the mattress feels like a dirty hot dog bun. What a dump, I feel so alone. God, I want to go home, but I am afraid he will try to kill me again if I do. Please damn the doctors for mixing his medication; they have stolen the man I have known away from me. His brown eyes are gray now and his skin is speckled with white spots. His face looks like someone else's. God, please keep my daughter safe, I cannot look at her right now. As a matter of fact I think I might just lay here and die. God, I am unable to write. Will you please tell my family I love them? I know nobody will understand. But my heart cannot beat anymore tonight.
My veins began to feel like ice on this hot summer day, as I fell deeper into shock. I really meant it; I couldn't take anymore of the crazy traumatic events. My life had become a shamble since my husband's arm went though that meat grinder. Surgeries, doctors visits, more meds, insurance companies, bills, mental illness and suicide seem to have become more frequent than not. Ironically, I lay here wanting to die because I saved my love from his own hand, only for him to try to kill me for getting in his way. He was the only person in my life that I have ever trusted, and he put a large butcher knife to my throat and he meant it. I bashed his head in to escape.
Oh God, I sobbed; I can't believe I busted his head open. I want to be dead. The revolver I found in the drawer was becoming my new lover. I caressed it gently. My life had become a shamble, a joke, an absolute joke. I no longer felt any hope. The blood gushing from his head, replayed again and again as if it were right in front of me. My body was unable to walk or hold down liquids. I have lost so much weight that I look like an Ethiopian. I have gone to the E.R., four churches and called a hotline. What a joke. Nobody really gives a shit. They are all in their fields to stroke their own egos, not help someone like me. I can't even look at myself. When I try, I see eyes that are vacant. There is nobody home.
Settling in to do the dirty deed, I realized I was not alone. A shape, a shape of a man with ears that stuck out just a little, stood there. He had a firm jaw line and a small but muscular build. He wore a white tee shirt, blue jeans and had a lit cigarette.
"Really…great I truly have lost my mind, now I see a smoking ghost, okay fine, I had better do this before I get committed." Strangely though my veins suddenly became very warm, and I felt a profound indescribable love and well being.
"Are you an angel?"
The man found that statement overly amusing. Laughingly he replied, " No doll I'm no angel. I am just your guardian."
He sat down beside me, and the warmth became more intense. As he came closer I saw his eyes were blue. He reached over and touched my hair in a matter of fact way.
"Such a pretty, pretty little girl is all the paramedics are going to say as they shake there heads and haul you away. They will all wish they could have saved you and then go to bed thinking what a damn shame."
He went on speaking, "You cannot die tonight. The others on the other side will view ending your life in poor taste. They will label you a coward and they are not at all kind to cowards. Besides, if you are not afraid of dying, you should not be afraid of living. What is the worst that could happen? Maybe die?" He then chuckled at his own funny.
"At least if you die in battle you could say you at least had the balls to try. Besides I believe you have a mission to complete. Even if that mission takes your life, you must complete it."
"Who are you?" I blurted almost in a panic.
"Robert Freeman, Lt. Freeman, other wise known as Airborne one."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm stuck, why are you here?"
"I have no where to go and what do you mean your stuck?"
"Well apparently when I died on September 7, 1943 in that attack over Italy I wasn't ready to go. It was a huge explosion. There were pieces flying everywhere, but I couldn't find Mary." He paused and looked sadly at me.
"You look just like her, she was a hell of a pilot. I was in love and I couldn't leave because I had to find here. So now I am stuck, co-peach compadre?"
"I'm sorry, how old were you?"
"Twenty eight."
"Did you ever find her?"
"No apparently she crossed before she hit the water. She always was smarter than me." He flicked his cigarette in an agitated manner.
"Why can't you cross?"
Mockingly he chuckle and lit up another cigarette, "because I'm no angel."
"You on the other hand, have to do what it is you have to do. First, you have to believe in me. I will help you. Me and my boys."
"Your boys?"
"Honey there are more dead soldiers roaming the earth than you could ever conceive. We help our own kind. You are a leader; we will be your army. You're a tough little girl. I saw the brut strength you have. Why do you collapse? He fucked up, but he is not well and you know it. You know what the doctors have put him through; you cannot abandon him or your daughter. Go rescue him, rescue your one true love or neither of you shall ever find peace."
"The counselors and reverends say I should leave him. They say he will try to kill me again if I go home."
"Don't fear death doll. We will protect you; nobody can harm you. Now get up and eat, shower and get some sleep. You look like shit girlie."
Strangely, my body was no longer shaking and my legs worked long enough to rinse off in the shower, but I found no food. At four a.m. I dozed off.
II.
My eyes fluttered open to the sounds of cows grazing not far from the house. The sun was shining brilliantly in a crystal clear sky. I sat up and wiggled my toes. "Sheesh eleven o'clock. I can't remember the last time I slept until eleven. Okay I guess the first thing I need to do is clean up around here, and then go and buy me some clothes, shoes and makeup." I had been run out barefoot with just my purse and keys.
"Don't forget the beer!"
As I spun around there stood another soldier.
"Who are you?"
"Danielle McKeinzie."
He was a bit of a round soft man with a baby face, blue eyes, a very short crew cut and a gentle grin.
"Oh and cigarettes, but none of those light ones, those things are like smoking air."
Stupidly, I stood there in disbelief. Okay fine I have lost my mind. Beer and cigarettes. Anything else?
"No nothing else. Yeah, Robert told us your were a little freaked out, it's okay, we love you anyway. Hey, don't you remember us? Or don't you remember the attack in the freight yard in Italy?
"Excuse me?" was all I could manage.
"Yeah you know when I got shot in the belly, I begged you to go on without me and tell my mother I loved her. But no, not you. You drug me all along those tracks and tried to patch me up. I remember my head kept getting banged on the tracks and you kept saying oh, I'm sorry, please don't die, don't fucken die on me! I was really touched by the sincerity of your tears, I remember wanting to reach up and kiss you. Is that wrong?"
Dazed I realized he expected a reply of some kind, "Is what wrong?"
"That I wanted to kiss my best friends fiancé?"
"Under the circumstances, I guess one would be forgiven."
"So you really have no memory of it?"
"No, no, no I…I don't, not at all."
I edged out the door and got into the car, this week was getting really weird. I went and dressed my self properly, although the looks I received going into the shoe store barefoot was a bit amusing. Thank God for credit cars, but I think the store clerk really thought I had stolen it. I brought back a carry out hamburger plate from Applebee's and a few groceries. I ate and slept for the next five days to rebuild my strength. The conversations were endless.
I also got to know Scotty, a small man with sandy hair, brown eyes and freckles across his nose. He had been a cook and had the sweetest disposition; he tended to be easy going. Then there was Vern. Vern was a trip. He was a large man with thick unruly dark hair and just one large eyebrow and dark framed glasses. Vern rarely smiled and seemed tense. He was the troubleshooter, the mechanic. He was somewhat an idiot on the matter of emotions but he was extremely intelligent in the laws of science. Then there was Richard who had been a bomb technician. He was a rebel. He was too tall, to thin but possessed a devilish grin. Richard was fearless and energetic, with dark hair and crooked teeth. He could pry from me a grin every time I saw his pale gray eyes light up at his own warped sense of humor. They were a good crew full of humor, and in their presence was an infinite love. Words cannot possibly do this feeling justice, but I would compare it to the feeling of holding your own baby for the first time, there just really is not anything else like it.
III.
I did return home as a warrior. Many of those I had known swore they no longer knew me; they said that I was different. I could not tell them why. That was in 1996. I had become fearless with my boys at my back. They had my back. Many more came to call. Often they would just rattle on and on about everyday things and most seemed totally amused by new technology. Robert sat on my bed at night and rubbed my hair. Every time he touched me I felt warmth flow through my veins.
It was with their help I saw my husband make a full recovery and I was able to provide a stable home for my daughter. It was not an easy endeavor, it was a war, a battle that required not stepping on the land minds and making things happen that might ultimately led to peace. I often did not think I would live, but I seemed to be okay with that. My boys always talked me through the tough moments. They gave me information, warned of danger, and reminded me I was protected. They humored me, pushed me to do more for myself and it seemed I had become indestructible. They brought to my life a profound faith in God and the element of hope. I often had seizures and felt rage that made me beat my head out of frustration. But my boys were there every time to pick me up, they said they understood the pain, they always told me that they cared. They loved me and tended to me when I became ill.
PTSD became the diagnoses in 2000 following a trip to my hometown for a funeral. As I tried to integrate back into society I also tried to rationalize that my soldiers were not real. I mean society just could not accept my experience; instead they would look at me as if I had three heads, so I felt it should be done away with. I sent them away telling them I had to do this alone. I was grateful to them but felt it was time to regain what is considered a normal life. The more rational I became the more depressed and lonely I became. When I severed my ties with my boys at the bidding of society, in order to find acceptance, I lost my faith and my hope; life felt empty and barren. Then I found they were still there, I had just chosen not to see them.
Society in general seems to believe that insanity is always bad, a thing to be cured. I think maybe it is not insanity, as much as maybe there is more out there than a rational mind can possibly understand. Why is that insane? Why should that be cured?
I will always love my boys; to me they are as real as anything anyone can touch. They are as real as God. They serve God. I cannot have faith in one and not the other. I owe them my life. To be so called cured would be to not believe in anything.
PTSD. Do not treat yourself.
While many patients attempt to alleviate the symptoms on their own without professional help, the nature of anxiety compounds and worsens their anxiety as these efforts increase. Seeking professionally guided and clear-minded help for an irrational and anxious mind frame is necessary for a large numbers of individuals suffering silently from anxiety. There is help available for you and many others. All you need to do is to seek the help of a professional psychiatrist to improve your life today.
With the help of a psychiatrist, treating any degree of anxiety is possible and effectively done over time. The first step in starting this process is seeking the help of a psychiatrist. There are a number of treatments and therapies available for these types of disorders. Some of these include medication, talk therapy, group therapy, introspective reading and worksheets, journaling, and meditations.
In most cases, a structured and professionally guided combination of these items is necessary to achieve desired results. In fact, with the proper treatment, most people can expect to live productive and fulfilling lives. If you wish for an anxiety-free lifestyle, seeking and pursuing the help of a psychiatrist is necessary.
If you feel you are suffering from an anxiety related disorder, a qualified psychiatrist can help provide diagnosis and begin a treatment plan best suited for you and your lifestyle. Debating seeking treatment will only worsen anxiety symptoms and draw sufferers away from the potential solutions a psychiatrist can offer. Treatments that can be explored include a number of traditional or alternative therapies, medication, self-help, or a combination of methods. Only a professional psychiatrist can accurately or can ethically decide which treatment is best for each individual patient.
With the help of a psychiatrist, treating any degree of anxiety is possible and effectively done over time. The first step in starting this process is seeking the help of a psychiatrist. There are a number of treatments and therapies available for these types of disorders. Some of these include medication, talk therapy, group therapy, introspective reading and worksheets, journaling, and meditations.
In most cases, a structured and professionally guided combination of these items is necessary to achieve desired results. In fact, with the proper treatment, most people can expect to live productive and fulfilling lives. If you wish for an anxiety-free lifestyle, seeking and pursuing the help of a psychiatrist is necessary.
If you feel you are suffering from an anxiety related disorder, a qualified psychiatrist can help provide diagnosis and begin a treatment plan best suited for you and your lifestyle. Debating seeking treatment will only worsen anxiety symptoms and draw sufferers away from the potential solutions a psychiatrist can offer. Treatments that can be explored include a number of traditional or alternative therapies, medication, self-help, or a combination of methods. Only a professional psychiatrist can accurately or can ethically decide which treatment is best for each individual patient.
PTSD and the veteran
The number of veterans dealing with these issues is staggering. A 2008 study found that one in five vets returning from Iraq and Afghanistan experience symptoms of PTSD or major depression. Sadly the study also found that many of these service members do not seek treatment for psychological illnesses because they fear it will harm their careers. Untreated, PTSD and depression can lead to cascading problems, such as drug use, marital problems, unemployment and even suicide.
Veterans don't have to "go it alone" — our colleagues in Veterans Affairs (VA) have marshaled resources to help service members and their families. The VA Web site has information and resources about coping with PTSD. There's also a hotline veterans can call for help with PTSD: 1-800-273-8255 (Spanish/Español: 1-888-628-9454).
The message is clear: We need to take care of ourselves and seek help when we need it. The resources are out there. This is true for veterans and for anyone else suffering with PTSD or depression.
Please let me hear from each of you what you find to be the most powerful tactics for coping during times of turmoil.
Veterans don't have to "go it alone" — our colleagues in Veterans Affairs (VA) have marshaled resources to help service members and their families. The VA Web site has information and resources about coping with PTSD. There's also a hotline veterans can call for help with PTSD: 1-800-273-8255 (Spanish/Español: 1-888-628-9454).
The message is clear: We need to take care of ourselves and seek help when we need it. The resources are out there. This is true for veterans and for anyone else suffering with PTSD or depression.
Please let me hear from each of you what you find to be the most powerful tactics for coping during times of turmoil.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
PTSD: when it at it's wors't.
Post traumatic stress syndrome it is at it's worse when the sub-conscious mind is at it's peak. There are countless books that try to explain what it is and how to best cope with the mother of all illnesses. I would rather have a doctor tell me that I am suffering from cancer. I know, it sounds crazy, but that is just what PTSD is. A doctor can tell a patient how he had gotten cancer. The risk factors, blah blah blah. Treatment for PTSD has come along way in the past 20 to 30 years. Unlike with PTSD. It is misdiagnosed than any other disease. Men, who join the Army, Marines,and Special Forces do not realize the harmful impact the diagnosis of PTSD reeks havoc of everything the sufferer touches. The Military Commanders are as much to blame as the patient himself. So LET US TAKE A LOOK at what is exactly Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. We will start at the most severe headed to the least severe.
1.) This is my list. A disabling anxiety that might develop following exposure to one or more likely events. Trauma is one or more likely events. A trauma is an that causes intense fear during which the individual may feel like they(or someone very close to them) are about to experience serious harm)or are about to die. These manifest into sleep disturbance, recurrent dreams, usually in the form of nightmares. PTSD is a psychological condition that affects those who have experienced a traumatizing or life-threatening event such as combat, natural disasters, serious accidents, or, violent personal assaults.
PTSD has gained recognition in recent years because of its emergence in many Vietnam veterans. Victims or this disorder tend to re-live over and over very painful or stressful situations and often have nightmares about the event. We, in the media have termed these events 'flashbacks'. It is important to note that PTSD is a psychological condition that affects those who have experience traumatizing or life-threatenings with no way of dealing with the hellish event they had just witnessed.
I am suffering this very same condition. In the next few weeks we will delve into what makes one person take his service revolver, or automatic, and end the pain once and for all. What makes people choose another route? Stick around, theblogmeister
1.) This is my list. A disabling anxiety that might develop following exposure to one or more likely events. Trauma is one or more likely events. A trauma is an that causes intense fear during which the individual may feel like they(or someone very close to them) are about to experience serious harm)or are about to die. These manifest into sleep disturbance, recurrent dreams, usually in the form of nightmares. PTSD is a psychological condition that affects those who have experienced a traumatizing or life-threatening event such as combat, natural disasters, serious accidents, or, violent personal assaults.
PTSD has gained recognition in recent years because of its emergence in many Vietnam veterans. Victims or this disorder tend to re-live over and over very painful or stressful situations and often have nightmares about the event. We, in the media have termed these events 'flashbacks'. It is important to note that PTSD is a psychological condition that affects those who have experience traumatizing or life-threatenings with no way of dealing with the hellish event they had just witnessed.
I am suffering this very same condition. In the next few weeks we will delve into what makes one person take his service revolver, or automatic, and end the pain once and for all. What makes people choose another route? Stick around, theblogmeister
Friday, July 30, 2010
College Football: a cure for PTSD
It has finally come. Training camps for college football. With all the off-field issues that have been going on I wonder if it will become a distraction. There is one place that a distraction is not needed: The Defending National Champs, Alabama. What was Marcell Darius thinking. "Wow, I got me free plane tickets to South Beach to attend a Party, drinks are free. Hell. yea! What the frick was you thinking. I realize I should not jump the gun and convict him of wrong-doing. Hopefully, he went to the party that was put on by that San Francisco player who claimed to pay all of the tab. Don't hold your breath Alabama fans, though.The NCAA is laying the hammer down in light of the USC debacle. (It couldn't have happened to a nicer son- of a b*tch). Lane Kiffin is a piece of sh*t, and I am not even a Vols Fan.What is wrong with me? Must be getting old. The good news out of Ohio is that Trey DePreist signed with the Tide. Hey, we are back! So, all you Bama haters keep on keeping on. We will see you the 3rd Saturday in October. Thank God, and 'Bear' For another season of college football. It will be a great one. theblogmeister
Friday, July 2, 2010
Rantings
I hate when the media doesn't get their way they whine about it. A bunch of bitchy little girls. They are now to stay away(65ft.) from any oil workers, oil, booms. They want to concentrate on the negative. "We are not the enemy" they said today. Yet all I hear is the massive amount of oil that is gushing in the gulf. We know there is a big fucking gusher out there and some morons with microphones telling us to the milliliter how much it is, how terrible it will be for decades. We ain't stupid! We don't need to hear how bad everything is all the time. Yet, the media is hurt that they can't climb up your nose to get a story. How many of you guys are out there? Thad Allen don't need to be bumping into Anderson Cooper and having to explain why they did what they did. I bet the COL. trips over a dozen of CNN crews on his way to get coffee. "What is the total of the dangerous dispersant that you are using? Don't you know that stuff could kill all the plankton on earth?" Give them a break, for Christ sake. Just think about what they are going through. I am not defending BP. They suck! I am defending the shrimper who has to skim oil to feed their family.I am defending the hotel owners who have to rent to BP. So. Anderson, if you are reading this, find a story to do and stop dwelling on the Apocalypse. theblogmeister
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
PTSD "I have figured out what it means!"
PTSD does not stand for post traumatic stress disorder. It stands for Perpetually Tired of State Departments. The state department I am referring to would be the Veterans Administration. I am absolutely tired of explaining my case to a bunch of bureaucrats sitting in an air-conditioned office. I must give them the benefit of the doubt having quadruple(or more) claims to process because of the wars we have been fighting the last eight years. So, you have some sympathy. My beef with those case workers are; I have given them all the help they need. As a matter of fact, I have done their work for them. There is not one thing they have to look up, research, or question. I have quoted case law pertaining to my claim. I have sent them copies of those case laws, copies of decisions made by the Social Security Administration. Everything they need to decide my claim. I'll give you the low down of what is going on. I was given 20% service-connected disability for a back problem I received while on active duty. I was given Social Security Disability for spinal stenosis, after 4 back surgeries, I might add. The service-connected disability was for spinal stenosis, also. I then filed an increased compensation due to individual unemployability. My back is screwed up. I can not work. I also cannot live off social security. It makes it a little harder when my ex-wife receives half my disability check. I do not have a problem with that, it is for back child support and I should pay it. Here is where we come to my legal help, at no charge, with the VA. I found 38U.S.C 4.16(b) where it states that if a Veteran cannot find gainful employment due to a service-connected disability then that veteran is deemed totally disabled. I sent them a copy of that, also, a copy of the decision of the Administrative Law Judge's decision stating why I was disabled. It's for the same thing. Instead of getting $243/mo the law says I should get $2870/mo. from the VA. Hey, the longer they wait, the more in back pay they will owe. It still frustrates the hell out of me. If anyone out there needs free legal help email me. I would rather see you get it than those lawyers. Later, theblogmeister
Monday, April 26, 2010
Fighting the Government
Has anyone actually won when they have a claim against Uncle Sam? I have been battling Sam for over two years on a claim for disability benefits from the veterans admin. I have found case law that states if a veteran cannot find gainful employment due to a service-connected disability then the veteran is deemed totally disabled. That comes from the United States Supreme Court. I have a 20% rated disability and that same disability keeps me from working at all. According to the highest court in the land I should be rated 100%. Can I get the VA to understand that? You would not believe what hoops they have me jumping through. It is amazing. Uncle Sam is a tough old bastard, I'll say that for sure. I have no doubt I will win my case, I just don't know when. In the mean time, I will keep sending emails to my congressman and calling him on the phone until .....What a coincidence. I just received a phone call from my congressman's office saying they will call and put a congressional interest on my case. Will it work? I will let you know. In the mean time I will keep bugging the shit out of them until they will want to get rid of me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)