A poem about dealings with the V.A.,
by Bill Stroud
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Your Turn: I may have died in 'Nam, but don't bury me yet
By David M. Payne
SPECIAL TO THE RENO GAZETTE-JOURNAL
12/11/2002
10:05 pm
Sept. 11 brought back some sad memories of my tour in Vietnam. My first
day
“in country” was spent in the receiving barracks on the outskirts of Da
Nang.
I was talking to a Marine who was stationed at those barracks.
He
told me that the VC had overrun part of Da Nang and all of Phu Bai the
year
before, during Tet. He asked me if I was a sound sleeper, and I told him
I was.
He told me that could get me killed, and I needed to learn to sleep
with
one eye open. That night I lay there with both eyes open and was
exhausted the next day, and for the rest of my days there. By the
end of
my tour in Vietnam, insomnia had replaced sleep as my body’s
response to
stress, and is still with me today. Paranoia and the fear
of death had
become my constant companions.
After a few months in Phu Bai, dodging the rocket, sniper and mortar fire
we got, my helicopter squadron pulled out to a helicopter carrier, the
USS Iwo Jima. One night we got the call to remove the chairs from
the
movie area, which was also the area used for the first-stage
medivacs of the
wounded. As I was helping clear the chairs out,
I heard some of the Marines
and sailors complaining about not getting
to finish watching their
movie.
The guys they brought in this night had walked in to the middle of a
minefield,
and they were a mess. One sergeant in particular garnered my
attention. A mine
had blown off both his legs. I watched him struggle
valiantly with death,
and lose. It is a picture that is seared forever into
my mind.
This night, along with many others like it, left me with scars in my mind
that can never be seen. I had all the too-usual problems of many
Vietnam
vets: trouble holding a job, a relationship, my life together.
I was wracked
with paranoia and worried “they” were after me.
The insomnia I had developed
there had become chronic.
Years later I finally went to the VA for help, and
they diagnosed me
with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and then told me
I didn’t get it in Vietnam. I had neglected to take notes of my
activities
there and had no “proof” my trauma was from there. My bullet
holes
from ‘Nam were in my mind, not my body. I would say to those of
you
who find yourselves involved in this war on terrorism in the coming
years,
take notes -- you may need them if you have to deal with the VA
later.
I later realized I had died spiritually that night on the Iwo Jima.
The concept of God and religion stopped making any sense to me.
How could
any kind, must, merciful, compassionate and omnipotent God
allow this kind of
madness to go on for all of humanity’s
recorded history? An indifferent God
at best.
A little while ago I was diagnosed with diabetes, like so many other
Agent Orange vets before me have been. There is no diabetes in my family
,
but it’s reaching epidemic proportions among us Vietnam vets. I may have
received a fatal wound that I never felt, and didn’t even know I had, in
Vietnam.
David M. Payne lives in Reno.
Copyright © 2002 The Reno Gazette-Journal
Ann Margaret..... The Opposite Of Jane Fonda
A neat story which is just a bit
different from those of Jane Fonda.
Richard, (my husband), never really
talked a lot about his time in Vietnam
other than he had been shot by a
sniper. However, he had a rather grainy,
8 x 10 black & white photo he
had taken at a USO show of Ann Margaret with
Bob Hope in the background that
was one of his treasures.
A few years ago, Ann Margaret was doing a book
signing at a local
bookstore. Richard wanted to see if he could get her to
sign the treasured
photo so he arrived at the bookstore at 12 o'clock for the
7:30 signing.
When I got there after work, the line went all the way
around the bookstore,
circled the parking lot, and disappeared behind a
parking garage.. Before
her appearance, bookstore employees announced that
she would sign only her
book and no memorabilia would be permitted. Richard
was disappointed, but
wanted to show her the photo and let her know how much
those shows meant
to lonely GI's so far from home.
Ann Margaret came
out looking as beautiful as ever and, as 2nd in line, it
was soon Richard's
turn. He presented the book for her signature and then
took out the photo.
When he did, there were many shouts from the
employees that she would not
sign it. Richard said, "I understand. I just
wanted her to see
it."
She took one look at the photo, tears welled up in her eyes and she
said,
"This is one of my gentlemen from Viet Nam and I most certainly will
sign
his photo. I know what these men did for their country and I always have
time for "my gentlemen". With that, she pulled Richard across the table
and
planted a big kiss on him. She then made quite a to do about the
bravery
of the young men she met over the years, how much she admired them,
and how
much she appreciated them. There weren't too many dry eyes among
those close
enough to hear. She then posed for pictures and acted as if he
was the
only one there.
Later at dinner, Richard was very quiet. When
I asked if he'd like to
talk about it, my big strong husband broke down in
tears. "That's the first
time anyone ever thanked me for my time in the
Army," he said.
Richard, like many others, came home to people who spit
on him and shouted
ugly things at him. That night was a turning point for
him. He walked a
little straighter and, for the first time in years, was
proud to have been
a Vet.
I'll never forget Ann Margaret for her
graciousness and how much that
small act of kindness meant to my husband. I
now make it a point to say
Thank You to every person I come across who
served in our Armed Forces.
Freedom does not come cheap and I am grateful
for all those who have served their
country.
THE VIETNAM VETERAN
You trained us well,
Taught
us to kill
Dropped us in Nam to
fight.
We had one chance
To come out alive -
Sure
gained a lot of insight.
Coming home, so unreal
To see all the people like sheep,
Listening to all the ding-bat bureaucrats
You know the ones - the creeps.
They ran our lives and sent us to
war
Felt bad when we returned,
There wasn't room for us in the system
With all the lessons we learned.
We know respect and disrespect
too,
We didn't find it by choice -
But now that we have it
And know what your game
is
It's time to speak out with one
voice.
We have our own lifestyle
One that's alive
And we're not looking to kill,
But we know how, and that's no lie
So keep us out of your swill -
We've already had our fill.
We're ready to work
Give our country our best
But you want us to play your game;
Look where we've gotten
By listening to you -
In the jungle you'd be known as lame…
We're Vietnam Veterans
We've been in some action
And we're glad to be back alive,
An elite in our culture
We've faced our own death,
We know what's real and what's jive…..
THANK YOU PRECIOUS VETERANS,
WHEREVER YOU ARE...
For not looking back when your Country
called
For going ahead when others were
appalled
For being there when muster
sounded
For not quitting when your heart
pounded
For sweat and sorrow and muscle
cramp
For all the fear and pain of boot
camp
For every question that wasn't
answered
For prayers you thought weren't
heard
For leaving your loved ones all
alone
For those faraway places some
unknown
For being the one who was so
apt
For standing so tall in the
gap
<
For holding true to the
dream
For giving your all for the
team
For not surrendering to the
enemy
For not forsaking the
many
For your sacrifice you
see
For we are now able to be
free
For there wouldn't even be an Uncle
Sam
For if not for you sir and for you
mam
For your answering God's
call
For your unselfish love of us
all
Thank you...
Vietnam Veterans of Maui County
