Ever get the “blues?” about anything? A bad relationship. A troubled marriage. Problems at work. Family conflict. Finances. Politics. War. World affairs. Sickness. Any one of these can give you the blues. But for the typical Vietnam veteran, the blues are real. His mind cannot erase what he saw and went through. It will torment him for the rest of his life. The day will come when his health will fail him. There will be days when he will not feel good. Getting out of bed will be a challenge. He is up in age, an age he did not expect to reach. But he did. Good or bad, he copes with life the best way he can. Yes, he’s got the VA, but for what? Pills and more pills? Drugs? How about alcohol? For most vets, that’s the norm. But hey! Give him a vodka and a pill, and he’s ready for the manure, that is, the world. At least that’s his perception of it. So, he goes through the motions of life. If he believes in God, he normally goes to church (“normally”). If he gets sick, he goes to his VA. If he has a few bucks in his wallet, he’ll go buy something, anything. When he gets tired of the slop he’s been eating, he’ll go to a nice restaurant. He’ll do anything to get himself out of the rut he’s in, at least for a little while.

His life is a series of battles, trials and tribulations. He merely plays the cards he was dealt. But for the tough and determined vet, it’s not enough. He goes on living. If he’s smart, he’ll take advantage of what he has or what he can get. But if he’s not, he’ll end up in the street and become a member of the mob known as the homeless. Or he’ll join the others in the grave.

I’m talking about the Vietnam vet. But why the Vietnam vet? What about the other war vets? Because the Vietnam vet was dealt cards he didn’t ask for. He was thrown into a brutal and senseless war, a war he couldn’t win. Today’s soldiers and Marines are called “heroes.” The Vietnam vet was called “baby killer.” So, of course he’s bitter, angry and sick. “What did that damn Agent Orange do to me?” asked one vet. Diabetes and cancer. Four out of five vets are dying from those two major diseases. That’s too many. And that doesn’t account for the 22 vets committing suicide every day, most of them being Vietnam vets (according to latest reports).

I was a Navy hospital corpsman, Fleet Marine Force (FMF), 3rd Marine Division. I was a frontline combat medic. It’s by the grace and mercy of God that I am still here, alive, writing these words. Let me tell everyone something: there is nothing glorious or famous about a torn body or a traumatized mind. There is certainly no glory or fame in the grave. There is only a casket and a dead body. And that flag draped over the casket means nothing to the one in it. So let us remember that the next time we mourn over the fallen, they’re dead; they’re gone. We’re still here, alive.

You see, it’s easy to be patriotic until you’ve felt the sting of battle. It’s easy to fly the flag proclaiming to be a proud American until you’ve seen the blood and guts of what used to be a human life. This is what the American warrior sees and goes through in defense of his country, in war. This is the reality that most don’t see. But I do.

The “blues” are a way of life for many Vietnam vets. Not for me. I’ve dealt with my demons. But I do have my days. And when I do, I take it with grace. Each day is a gift from God. I count my blessings every day. I am grateful for what I have. But I give myself some credit too. I didn’t quit. I moved on. So, to all my fellow vets: don’t give up. Life is too precious. Our days are numbered. Let’s live them to the fullest. Got a roof over your head? Have food on the table? You’re better off than most of the world, if you do.

That’s how I deal with ”Vietnam Blues.”