On November 8, 2016, President Barack Obama signed a proclamation that called on all Americans to voluntarily pause for two minutes of silence on November 11 of that year and beyond to honor the sacrifices of veterans. The silence begins simultaneously across the nation on Veterans Day at 2:11 p.m. Eastern Standard Time.
– INVISIBLE WOUNDS –
The families and friends of veterans don’t always understand the impact serving our country can have on their lives. If a member of the Armed Forces isn’t wounded or killed, the consequences of serving can be invisible to others. Throughout history, countless members of the military returning from combat have had one thing in common. During the Revolutionary War, some soldiers were described as “lost and bewildered.” Soldiers in the Civil War were said to suffer from “nostalgia,” while those in World War I experienced “shell shock.” In World War II, it was called “combat stress.” During the Vietnam War the terminology was “combat fatigue” or “post-Vietnam syndrome.” It wasn’t until 1980 that the medical community recognized the symptoms as a serious condition – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
I was born post-World War II, so I was only
three years old when the Korean War ended. I probably didn’t learn about it
until I was in high school since my parents generally didn’t discuss politics
or world events. At the time, I had the Korean War in the same category as World
War II – a remote event that took place thousands of miles away.
- install, maintain and repair aircraft engines, propellers, fuel and lubrication systems, drive accessories and gear boxes, and
- handle and service aircraft both ashore and aboard ships.
– MEMORIES OF VIETNAM –
The Vietnam War began to open my eyes – it was on the TV in our living room. In the late 1960s, the evening news aired images from Vietnam every night – a journalist relaying the body count for the day with stacks and stacks of body bags in the background, smoke rising over trees where bombs had been dropped, young men my age tromping through a jungle, their shirts darkened with sweat, or in their base camps, smoking cigarettes as they cleaned their weapons. And, of course, there were the Hueys. The deep sound of their rotor blades is something veterans don't forget, even decades later.
Soldiers of the Army of Vietnam (ARVN) 1st Battalion, 6th Regiment, are airlifted to "Landing Zone Kala" northeast of Khâm Đức, Vietnam, by U.S. Army UH-1H Hueys during Operation Elk Canyon, 12 July 1970. (Wikimedia Commons)
My husband, Phil, was a twenty-one year old Vietnam veteran who had been discharged from the army about a year prior to our meeting. He, too, enlisted shortly after his high school graduation. His mother had to sign for him because he wouldn't turn eighteen until the end of November.
After completing basic training and radio school, Phil was deployed to Vietnam in December 1967 with the Army’s 101st Airborne Division. Radiomen were part of the Signal Corps; they carried about 54 pounds of equipment on their backs, plus their weapon system. The life expectancy of a Radioman during a firefight was only five to six seconds, due to the 3-foot antenna on his back; in the jungle, a 10-foot whip antenna was needed.
Within a month of his arrival, Phil was thrust
into the Battle of Huế in the Tết Offensive, launched by the North Vietnamese
Army and Viet Cong guerilla fighters on January 30, 1968, two months to the day
after his nineteenth birthday.
Phil told me how the extreme heat and the smells had hit him when he got off the plane in Vietnam. Other than that, he didn’t talk about his experiences, with two exceptions. He recounted those stories only once in our years together. As he talked, images formed in my mind as I tried to put myself in his shoes. But there were no words for him to express what he felt. The images are still with me. Understandably, after one year in Vietnam, Phil was left with too many all-too-vivid memories that couldn’t be erased. He was haunted by them the rest of his life.
My son, Matthew, enlisted in the Army Reserve in August 1994 after graduating from high school. After his military term was up, he decided to enlist in the regular army. In March 2002, Matt began training as a Radar Repair Specialist. His duties would include maintaining and repairing sophisticated technological equipment, even if he was under fire.
Fifteen months later, Matt was assigned to the 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault) at Ft. Campbell, Kentucky. His first deployment to Iraq was from July 2003 to February 2004. The second was from November 2005 to November 2006.
Matt showed this picture of the Army's AN/TPQ36 Radar in a 2007 presentation he gave at the high school where I was teaching. |
During his first deployment, Matt was stationed at a captured Iraqi air base outside of Tal Afar in northern Iraq, about 55 miles west of Mosul. In his second deployment, he was stationed west of Samarra about 180 miles south of Mosul. The situation was such that we were able to occasionally talk on the phone for a limited amount of time.
"Iraq: Country Profile," Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) map found in "Iraq: Land Use," Map Collection, Perry-Castañeda Library (PCL) at the University of Texas at Austin, Jan. 2003. [Added labels and highlighting.] |
Black Hawk Helicopters from the 2nd Brigade, 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault) move into an Iraqi city during an operation to occupy the city, 5 April 2003. The 101st is deployed to Iraq in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. (Wikimedia Commons) |
Matt's deployment was a stressful time. I didn’t know where he was for certain, or if he had been wounded or worse. He assured me that he and his equipment were somewhat distanced from active combat zones, so he was fairly safe. It did not ease my mind. That didn't happen until he returned home unharmed in November 2006. Unlike his father and grandfather, Matt was eventually able to talk about some of his experiences in Iraq. It was a good thing.
– THOSE WHO SERVED –
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