War Story 18: Why Don’t I have PTSD?
This is a question asked of me many times. I am a Vietnam War combat veteran.
The answer is complicated. PTSD is real. It is a special wound that can take years to heal, if at all. This is a rather oversimplified perspective, but it reflects the view of one former combatant.
PTSD is diagnosed in different ways, whether battle fatigue or crippling depression and anxiety, fears, or any number of traumas. The impact of PTSD is enduring and complicated for the individual, family, and employers. It deserves special attention and caring. It is a wound with no obvious scars from war, but the effects are no less serious.
I also know firsthand the impact of death and PTSD on soldier’s families - Gold Star Families. The death sentence of a soldier is a life sentence for families. Many families do not survive marriage after such trauma, and the dysfunction is nothing less than terrible. Internal strife is aggravated by outside forces by careless, insolent, irresponsible, and thoughtless morons. Anti-war activists who assault the emotions and sensibilities of Gold Star parents and families.
PTSD from war is more easily understood and recognized than possibly so many other causes, especially by families of first responders and those suffering the lasting affects of violence. However, war and combat are my focus in this article.
My commentary is about how to prepare for the trauma of war that, in my case at least and in my opinion, allowed me to avoid the debilitating effects of PTSD. Too often we cannot prepare for what could be a traumatic event. I was fortunate to have time and mentally get focused for the actions that are the worse of humanity.
Maybe I avoided PTSD since I never viewed my experiences as an Infantry Platoon Leader in ‘Nam as hyper-traumatic. I expected death around me. I expected and was wounded twice. I accepted it. I even accepted that I might die, but I always believed I would make it.
Okay, yes, I was young and invincible. When I saw a body blown apart, I mentally disconnected from it and viewed it as their loss, not mine. My job was to ensure it would stay the enemy's loss.
However, I had a clear and motivating purpose: to save my own and my soldier's lives, and I had a wife and son at home waiting for me. I wanted my life after the Army - I was not a “lifer.”
To do that, I did what most recruits don’t do, I “volunteered” for all the training I could get. Basic training at Fort Dix, NJ, then Advanced Infantry Training at Fort Polk, LA, off to Fort Benning (now Fort Moore) for Airborne School to be a paratrooper (jumping out of a plane trains you to control your fears) before starting Officer Candidate School (OCS) for six months, afterward assigned to brigade training operations, and lastly before going to Vietnam, off to Jungle Expert School in the Panama Canal Zone at Fort Sherman. I wanted to go to Ranger School but would have to extend my four-year enlistment, so I passed on doing it.
I credit my intense effort to learn all I could from such excellent Army training in the two years before going to Vietnam at the age of 23. Yes, it was going to be an adventure, a personal challenge, and a test of my endurance, skills, and instincts. I wanted it. I volunteered three times in those two years for Vietnam, not Germany or Korea. Otherwise, I saw no purpose to my goals. To some it may seem like a death wish. Not so.
In March of 1970, I was on my way to fight in the Vietnam War.
When I got to Vietnam, I was combat-ready. My head was screwed on straight, so I thought. I had the right attitude. I had no fear. I took deliberate, calculated risks. I really thought I knew what to do and how to beat the enemy in this life-or-death game.
Yes, I must admit, I wanted to know how or if I could handle combat. Would I have the metal as a man to keep my head when the bullets are blazing by and bombs going off around me? Could I manage my emotions and deal with traumatic loss? For sure, I am no hero or a bloodthirsty killer. I cared not for the political mess of the War. It would ultimately test personal courage, competence, leadership, and survival skills.
After arriving in Vietnam, I was immediately given two more weeks of in-country training to learn enemy weapons, tactics, and locations.
My next six months will be momentous, life-changing, and a memory for a lifetime. It involved combat patrols, ambushes, booby traps, and contact with the enemy in radically different terrains, including rice paddies, desert-like sands near the ocean, and mountains with jungles. I was wounded twice while losing five killed and a dozen wounded in my platoon.
In my first 6 months, I escaped death five times. My platoon was ambushed once on the Ho Chi Minh Trail, and the bullets came over my helmet by inches. I could actually feel them pass. In each case, men died or were severely wounded, losing life or limbs within a few feet of me.
I left the battlefield knowing that all my decisions as a Platoon Leader were good, but I always felt I should/could do better. Fortunately, I did not make any stupid mistakes. During my time in the rice paddies, I thought I passed the test when we were under fire. It didn’t shake me up and was reassuring and even emboldened me. While I was mindful that combat was demanding, in the end, in more cases than I imagined, my survival was not dependent on how smart, strong, or experienced I was. Step in the wrong spot, and it could change everything in an instant. I always had respect for the enemy as they were highly committed, knew the territory, and were very experienced.
I did lose soldiers in ways I could not necessarily prevent. Stepping in the wrong spot, jumping into the wrong hole, or simply standing up at the wrong time could be the death of you, and it was for too many. I judged my leadership skills by anticipating danger, knowing where we were at all times with only a map and compass, and ensuring my soldiers survived. But in a war like in Vietnam, casualties are a fact of life.
To compensate, enemy kills by my platoon numbered over 50+ in the first 5 months when I stopped counting. Yes, I kept it to myself as a personal measure of progress in this game. How else to assess progress? At the time, I felt I needed a metric to measure progress in a controversial war. It was also a way to get revenge for my lost brothers.
I credit my intense effort to learn all I could from excellent Army training and volunteering for all I could get in the two years before going to Vietnam at the age of 23.
That's it. No magic. Hard work. Focus. Fight fear with preparation. “Get with the program,” so to speak.
However, if I had sustained combat for years instead of months, I am sure it would be more devastating. If I lost a limb or would have been captured, I am sure it would affect me severely, no matter how strong I may think I am. We all have a breaking point. For that, I am positive.
Oh, yes, I believe I was blessed by God, but I am no foxhole convert. For many, faith was a godsend. For others, it was only about their own skills and choices. Some just relied on fate. For me, I have been so fortunate and lucky to have survived and gone on to live a long life. As proof, I have a piece of a bomb fragment sticking in my tibia bone to this day. Further evidence of God’s Grace is that I have somehow avoided Agent Orange (AO was a toxic mix of defoliation chemicals that caused a witch’s brew of cancers) and all the ill effects that have sickened and killed tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of veterans.
On March 26, 1971, I returned home to my wife, son, and family. We were financially broke, but we were alive and well for the next phase of life. For the first few years, I kept a rifle and shotgun near my bed. Yes, a few dreams, but all that faded in time. I have no hesitation about talking about Vietnam, and frankly, I am proud of my experience. I have also written about my combat experiences and posted them to a personal website to detail a bit of history for my family and friends.
I pray for all veterans, their families, and our country, so help me, God.
1st Lieutenant, 3rd Platoon, Bravo Co/ & Bn HQ Co Commander/2nd Bn/1st Inf/196th LIB/ AMERICAL Div, 1970-71
PS. I guess I am a warrior in spirit, a businessman in practice, a common man with faults but few regrets, a happy husband with a beautiful wife, a father to awesome children and grandchildren, who values friends, and who has a new life with two new knees as of October 2023.