Every night it's the same. He takes his weapon and patrols the base perimeter at three in the morning. But his weapon is a Winchester 30-30 and the base perimeter is the yard around his house. He knows he's not in the Army anymore, but he can't help himself.

He grabbed the rag head by the throat and squeezed with everything in him. He awoke to find that it was his wife whom he almost killed, not a “camel jockey” in Afghanistan.

For this vet a thunder clap triggers an impulse to hit the deck. He replays a sequence of thought, “It's only thunder not incoming mortar.” He remains standing, but it is an act of will. He sleeps with a KA-BAR by his side.

Car rides are a gut wrenching ordeal. Every roadside object is scanned for an improvised explosive device. The IEDs are usually bundles of artillery shells that can blow an armored personnel carrier five feet into the air; survival is problematical. He's seen it happen to comrades and wonders when it will be his turn. He's home now but is still waiting for his turn.

It's called post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Vets from Vietnam have it, thirty-five years after the last Marine climbed into a chopper and out of Saigon. And vets from Iraq and Afghanistan have it and will have it for years to come; survival instincts burned into their psychs by experiences that the human nervous system was never designed to endure.

It was called shell shocked in WW I. For many dough boys who huddled in trenches shivering in fear while the earth convulsed under an artillery barrage, it got to be too much.

Some threw away their weapons, refused to obey orders, others sank to a whimpering, mud-caked mass when the whistle blew to go “over the top.” Many were shamed, imprisoned, and even executed for such cowardice, weaklings who cracked under pressure.

In a more enlightened era, it was called battle fatigue in WW II.

Once again the American soldier was placed in front of strangers whom he was expected to kill while being surrounded by comrades who were being killed. He was hungry, cold, scared, and brutally fatigued. It took a predicable toll.

About 1.4 million grunts were treated for battle fatigue. They were removed from the front, given warm showers, hot meals, and rest, plenty of rest. Most returned to the front, others had conditions that were intractable. About 500,000 were discharged for psychological reasons.

It was during the Vietnam War that the psychological disorders of combat were recognized as a medical condition and renamed post traumatic stress disorder.

Of the 3 million vets who served “in country,” 500,00 men and 240,000 women were diagnosed with PTSD. They suffer from anxiety, depression, insomnia, and literally dozens of other psychological and physical complaints that are varied as the number of victims.

Many sought relief in alcohol and become heavy drinkers and drug users. The rates of suicide, divorce, unemployment, poverty, homelessness, and inability to become functional in society, were far above the norm.

Now we are experiencing another wave of troubled vets, this one from Iraq and Afghanistan. The signature wounds of these conflicts are PTDS and traumatic brain injury (TBI). Of the 2 million troops who were deployed in a war zone, 172,000 were diagnosed with PTSD and 182,000 are at risk of developing this disorder.

Estimates of TBI vary widely because of the variety and subtlety of its symptoms. According to the DOD it is 50,000, others say it is one-third of vets.

Estimates of homeless vets are also difficult to ascertain. The National Coalition for Homeless Veterans estimates 200,000. “We're beginning to see, across the country the first trickle of warriors in homeless shelters,” said Phil Landis, chairman of Veterans Village of San Diego, “but we anticipate that it's going to be a tsunami.”

Because an all-volunteer Army is a smaller Army, recruits serve longer and repeated tours of duty in combat zones. In the days and years to come, we can expect tsunamis of all the manifestations of PTSD and TBI.

The human wreckage of these wars is returning to their shore. Generally, they will look the same, wear the same clothes, have the same likes and dislikes; yet they, by their tens of thousands, are not the same nor will they ever be.

Sincerely,

Bob Scroggins

New Milford, PA