Soldiers of a War Zone Reunite and Finally Come Home
Soldiers of a War Zone Reunite and Finally Come Home
What began on an impulse in 1996 has become a traditional family reunion between military veterans and wives from the Vietnam conflict. During August 4 – August 7, 2007 21 veterans serving their country during 1968-1969 with the Headquarters & Headquarters Company 3rd Brigade 9th Infantry Division reunited at Lake Arrow Resort, Gladwin, Michigan, bonding together like the band of brothers they were during Vietnam. Although it has been close to forty years since their tour of duty, friendships were renewed as if they were never separated.The history of these multi-talented men from all walks and professions of life is compelling. Bonded within the group are lawyers, one judge, DoD engineers, ironworkers, teachers, retired military and other professionals. Wives of the conflict, along with wives who lived the emotional scars of war later, bonded with friendships that this writer has not experienced in much too long. Ranging from states such as California, West Virginia, Virginia, New Jersey, North Carolina, South Carolina, Michigan, and other states, these brothers learned that war memories are to be proud of, not ashamed. Starting with handshakes, extending into bear hugs and the softly whispered, “Welcome home, brother,” the veterans were a bit reserved when arriving. When the magical welcome home was expressed, an emotional warmth melted into a poignant connection only war veterans can experience, bringing tears to my eyes. I am the proud wife of one of these veterans. In 1968, newly married, I kissed my husband goodbye in an airport in Charleston, SC and my heart broke while wondering if we would share a future together. No one can predict the outcome of war, but I had faith he would return. In December 1969, SGT. Phillip R. Cooper returned. A bit thin, without the gleam in his eyes that I knew and loved so well. His manner was suspicious, temper quick, and the slightest noise would startle him as he collapsed on the ground. When I asked about his response, I heard a chilling, “It don’t mean nothing.” According to statistics I researched a few years ago, only one percent of the marriages of the Vietnam conflict have survived. I am proud to say, Phil and I are one of those stats. Yes, it has been a struggle, but when things are difficult, I stop to remember how lost I was when he left Fort Dix, New Jersey on Thanksgiving Day 1968, headed to Vietnam. Now that America is at war again, I cannot stop listening to the daily news. A new era of war is upon our Nation. As the wife of a Vietnam Veteran, I have a connection to those families and soldiers and I pray for their safe return. The Iraq soldiers have Internet and e-mail capability, even if a bit limited. When I mailed a letter to Phil in Vietnam, it took ten days to get there, and another ten days to get a reply. Cell phones did not exist. Although I had visions of Phil living in military barracks, like he did in Ft. Benning, I was informed bunkers served as a place to sleep, when he could sleep. Phone calls were limited and only through a MARS station. On one occasion, he phoned me and I was at work. I wrote him a letter telling him to go back to the phone booth. Little did I know about a war zone!The War in Iraq is a different war; women are in the battle zone, fighting the war so similar to how my husband and his band of brothers fought. I hear stories about divorce, separation, and one particular story I heard about in a news hour stated a woman soldier lost her children due to abandonment while serving in Iraq. How can a mother, or a father, lose their children while fighting a war? My prayer is for the soldiers and their families. A prayer of hope and much love. A prayer for a safe return. A compelling prayer expressing to God that all families, friends, and loved ones connected to war, past, present and future, will recognize the emotional scars of war never leave the soldier. Although the soldier stands tall, the interior emotional shell may need to break away. Maybe not today or tomorrow when the soldier returns. Maybe not in one, two, five, or ten years. Based on how the soldier accepts the torment of war, the healing process could take twenty years or longer, just like it has for my beloved husband. Nevertheless, there will come a moment when the soldier of war must reunite to recognize It Does Mean Something. Although fighting and surviving in a war zone has forever changed him or her, the soldier should stand tall, proud of his tour of duty. Proud for freedom, regardless of the cost.For many years, Phil was trapped in the disturbing emotional scars of Vietnam. Flashing back in the dark of night, he whispered Vietnamese language I could not understand. Each time I heard It don’t mean nothing I wanted to scream, but screaming only resulted in another trigger to activate PTSD. Although I held him close to me for comfort, he was lost. On August 4, 2007, my Vietnam Veteran finally found his way back home when he reunited with 21 of his most loyal band of brothers at Lost Arrow Resort, West Branch, Michigan. Until 1998, Phil held everything inside. When he lost his parents, I heard a chilling It don’t mean nothing. Arguments between us triggered another It don’t mean nothing. Pointed straw hats forced him to take a detour. Boxes, or debris in the roads encouraged him to make a U-turn, scaring me. Sudden noises forced him to ‘hit the ground.’ Helicopters overhead reminded him of ‘Huey coming for dust off,’ a term used when picking up the wounded. Fireworks ignited memories of fire in the sky, attacks by ‘Charlie’, and another reaction of hitting the ground. Crowds left him fearful of someone suspicious lurking around for just the right moment to attack. No matter where we went, he had to know where the nearest exit was. When I inquired about his behavior, I heard, It don’t mean nothing again. A business trip to Hawaii flashed back to Tan An South Vietnam. During a heated dispute, I encouraged him to get help. “You have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” I said. He shrugged me off, whispering his cliché of It don’t mean nothing. I questioned how cold and condescending he was to me, and I truly felt he was made of stone. The first time I saw a tear in his eyes was when he was on a stretcher and headed for heart surgery. Now, a bit recovered, he battles another war – proving to the Veterans Administration that he suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and other ailments from Agent Orange. Although he was diagnosed with PTSD by doctors in a military hospital four years ago, the VA disagrees. Twenty-three pages of medical documents were provided, and still, the VA has denied 100% disability. The battle with the VA is a constant battle of disbelief, lost papers, and frustration. One consultant actually stated his long-term marriage to the same woman is not helping his case! To say I am annoyed by their patronizing manner is an understatement.Whenever I travel, I take the time to approach the soldiers I see in airports. I greet them with a warm hello, letting them know I am the wife of a Vietnam era soldier. “God bless you and welcome home,” I say and if they are in route to war, I mention I will pray for their safe return. As the wife of a Veteran, I feel it is my duty to speak to these special people and to thank them for serving our country. America learned a valuable lesson from Vietnam and we must do all that we can to welcome our soldiers home with pride and acceptance.My wish for all the soldiers fighting war is a commemorative homecoming. Vietnam left a horrific bitterness in the souls of the Vietnam Veteran when coming home and after the war ended. Many were spat upon. Others were called baby killers. War is Hell and there is an outlandish price we pay for our freedom. Still, I wonder, when the soldiers of Iraq and Afghanistan return how will they respond to unexpected noises, fireworks and the reentry to daily life in America. Will the emotional scars soften, or will these men and women keep the memories of war locked away inside the mental torment they endured while fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. I hope they do not feel compelled to detach and whisper, “It don’t mean nothing.” I salute all of the Veterans with heartfelt pride.
barbiepc
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