Stolen valor? Nope...stolen PTSD.

[Soul Tramp]

My wife has fairly serious PTSD. It affects her everyday life. She's ALWAYS ready for battle, easily surprised/scared, always has a weapon at hand (chopstick in her hair, etc.), hates confined spaces & small rooms, always stays near an exit, recurring dreams, extremely high situational awareness, often whispers to me what to do it trouble breaks out.

It's unfortunate that there are no VA resources available to her, and there are few in this country that can share her experience. She needs to talk about it, but does her best to keep it inside.

 

[TheX]

I joined in '76 so I met a LOT of people that were there. A whole lot of people that talked very little about what actually happened.

 

[toymaker]

These guys are everywhere.

Go to your local VFW, AmVets or American Legion...probably at least 2 of them hanging around at any given moment....guys who were basucally the inspiration for Rambo - and never did get credit for it.

Funny thing is - there are probably 5 guys listening to this BS in the background whose level of badass we will never know or understand....just keeping theur cool and letting the loud mouth sound off.

Kinda like the Viet Nam ERA vets....never boots on the ground - just enlisted at some time during the era. Nothing against any person who chooses to serve - we owe them all a debt of gratitude - but passing yourself off as something you arent is just wrong (then again - its been a military tradition for centuries...guarantee you go back we have jackasses who claimed to have been commanded by Washington, fought with Napoleon, rode elephants with Hannibal and served in the crusades....hell probably were a few uninjured Alamo survivers too).

 

[Marshall & Moonshine]

We had those on the tanks. Never saw once used, even at the range (not that we were shooting at anyone at the time). They told us they weren't for anti-personnel. We were aiming at their canteens

When I was on a ship carrying the 4th ID’s stuff over to the gulf, they told me they’re not allowed to shoot .50 at people, just at their stuff. So they just shoot at their jackets.

 

[southbound]

Wow.

On the other side, there are lots of guys whose experiences most never hear about.

Back when I managed a gun shop, one of my part-time guys was an older fella, not more than 5’1” or 2”, almost annoyingly cheery, rode a Harley, married to an equally cheery BBW Mexican lady, retired Ford worker... and former Marine. He was pretty proud of the Marine thing, and had a couple USMC hats, license plate frame on his bike- that sort of thing.

Doing the rough math, he would have been a Marine in the Vietnam era, but he worked for me for almost a year before he even mentioned that he did go to Vietnam. We were perch fishing on Lake Erie (his boat), like we’d done a dozen other times, when he said it. I asked what his MOS was, and he responded “...well... lots of guys just drove trucks and stuff over there, but it was pretty sporty even for them”. That was it. That was clearly all he wanted to say, so I dropped it.

Another year went by - lots of fishing together, several dinners, him and his wife, me and my girlfriend - before it even came up again. I always had him work Monday morning with me, because he could help me clean and stock shelves, early in the morning, without bitching, being late, or managing to not get anything done. I always brought the doughnuts, he made the coffee.

I set the doughnuts down on the counter, and he had this cheesy looking fake green-leather bound book sitting there. It had “My Vietnam Diary” embossed on the front- something he bought at a gift shop in Saigon. He said he thought I might like to look at it, and kinda motioned me to it while he was chewing on a doughnut.

There were a bunch of letters from home, stuff like that that I wasn’t going to read. Pictures of him and his buddies in clean uniforms, hanging out on the beach, hookers, all that stuff.

Then, toward the middle of the scrapbook, a bunch of post-battle pictures. Dead bodies laying around (all Vietnamese, no Americans), disheveled dudes in dirty, bloody uniforms and such. Then, I came to a picture that was clearly Danny, head all bandaged up, his normal big shit-eating grin, standing there in his underwear, holding an Ithaca 37 in one hand, the other hand holding a stick about the size of a pool cue, with a Vietnamese dude’s severed head stuck on the end of it - “that’s the fucker that almost killed me...well one of ‘em” <grin>

Turns out he wasn’t a truck driver. He was infantry, and barely survived the overrun of Khe Sahn. He had the shotgun because his Sgt made him the squad Tunnel Rat. “He said, Danny... Danny, you ain’t no bigger‘n them fuckers. Grab that shotgun and get in the hole..that’s what he said. So that was my job, then.“

Never did have another conversation about it, but he let the gates open that one morning, and didn’t shy about a single topic. Then we dropped it, and never talked about it again.

My dad was the same way about WWII. Never talked much about it other than he was a parade ground soldier, in the marching band on tour with Mac Arthur.
After my dad passed away, found out he was a Sharpshooter and had medals for the liberation of the Philippines and was involved in heavy combat.

 

[LtDave32]

My wife has fairly serious PTSD. It affects her everyday life. She's ALWAYS ready for battle, easily surprised/scared, always has a weapon at hand (chopstick in her hair, etc.), hates confined spaces & small rooms, always stays near an exit, recurring dreams, extremely high situational awareness, often whispers to me what to do it trouble breaks out.

It's unfortunate that there are no VA resources available to her, and there are few in this country that can share her experience. She needs to talk about it, but does her best to keep it inside.

My wife is not a veteran.

However, she carries this little American Arms "belt buckle" .22 wherever she goes.

Calls it "baby girl". Lol..

 

[LtDave32]

My dad was the same way about WWII. Never talked much about it other than he was a parade ground soldier, in the marching band on tour with Mac Arthur.
After my dad passed away, found out he was a Sharpshooter and had medals for the liberation of the Philippines and was involved in heavy combat.

My old man said practically nothing about his WWII service. He was a PL who led his platoon across France in 1944.

My grandfather, his dad, was aboard the USS Nevada at Pearl Harbor. Got a battlefield commission for his actions that day. Both my grandfather and father fought in the same war.

My dad would occasionally tip the corner of his newspaper when he saw some stupid kid-stuff on TV. He'd mutter "I fought the war for this shit?", then sharply snap his paper straight. Sounded like a firecracker.

That was a damn good time to go outside and do stuff instead of watch TV.

However , years later after I had got a commission and was a PL myself, Dad really opened up with advice. Never saw that side of him. I suppose he felt he had a few more lessons to teach to his son.

 

[southbound]

My wife is not a veteran.

However, she carries this little American Arms "belt buckle" .22 wherever she goes.

Calls it "baby girl". Lol..

Be safe when babygirl is around with your wife. Those lil baby guns are dangerous!
Had the orig. Freedom Arms version. I am surprised you dont hear more people shooting their fingers off. The magnum version is the worst with all that cylinder blast! That gun can put an end playing guitar in a big hurry!

 

[LtDave32]

Be safe when babygirl is around with your wife. Those lil baby guns are dangerous!
Had the orig. Freedom Arms version. I am surprised you dont hear more people shooting their fingers off. The magnum version is the worst with all that cylinder blast! That gun can put an end playing guitar in a big hurry!

We're plenty safe with it.

Correction, her's is indeed Freedom Arms.