Why write? Why draw or paint? Why bother? at is for other people, smart people and talented people, people with brains---not a lowly veteran like me!! I don’t have any gifts or talent, and certainly nobody is going to be interested in what I express in art form! That’s how I thought, until six years ago when I discovered Veterans’ Voices. I’m just a regular guy, a Vietnam veteran who did three different tours in-country and wound up being medevac’d out the third time, messed up physically and mentally.

I have PTSD and my Vietnam veteran friends have it as well. We’ve also encountered cancer, thanks to Agent Orange. No wonder, out of more than 2.5 million boots on the ground in Vietnam, there are only approximately 600,000 of us left alive. Iraq vets I know, the guys and gals who walked through the burning oil fields and worse, are hurting as well. They’re the new generation of vets coming out of someplace and somewhere, who did their duty and left with scars on their bodies and in their minds.

My PTSD embarrasses me when I fly off the handle for no reason, talk without filters, crush people with words, or do stupid things for lack of impulse control. These actions leave me feeling so depressed, I want to die! I know now writing for Veterans’ Voices is where I can go to find others with similar concerns and anxieties, express my story in words and help me better understand my actions, and maybe assist another vet by doing so. We all need fellow human beings who not only comprehend but show compassion based on brotherhood and sisterhood.

In April of 1970, when I deplaned in California and was showered with rotten fruit and vegetables, called every name in the book, spit on, and hated by my own countrymen, I couldn’t recover and worked my way back to Nam for a third tour--a place I understood and where I could save lives. All until my weight fell to 110 pounds and my mind broke from the screams of young teens crying out for their moms. I was a 20-year-old sergeant who looked 40. They knocked me out and I awoke at Sheppard Air Force Base in Texas where they fed me and gave me the help I needed. I was there for three months and then the Air Force gave me a full military retirement, acknowledging what I had accomplished. Yet, I lost my planes and the Air Force life. I was crushed.

So, along with many of my friends, I took a step forward and sought a helpful ear: a counselor, a group of fellow vets, a group of motorcycle vets. Membership in veterans’ organizations led to friendships with men and women I trusted. We realized we weren’t alone, we had someone to “watch our six.” Veterans’ Voices has been watching “my six” for some time now, and it can watch yours as well! It will help you share your story. As we share our stories, the civilian community begins to better understand us and our service. Over the years, I’ve become popular and proudly wear Vietnam all over me!

Ever since I submitted my first article to Veterans’ Voices in 2016, I’ve been able to explain the unexplainable, all in my comfort zone. People listen to me without anyone trying to shove something down my throat or impress me with their “great ideas," “knowledge,” or the latest “psycho babble.” As I wrote, I cut loose. Some was raw but all was true. Some was about my life now and some was from my Air Force days. For me all of it hit home and I learned as time passed that I felt better and gained a little pride in what I wrote. “Author” was a scary word for me, but I accepted it because I found other authors and people who read my words were interested in what I had to say. My writing seemed to help others like it helped me.

Don’t get me wrong. Nothing can wipe out my memory bank, no matter how many “treatments” I undergo. However, if we try to share those feelings, we discover we are not alone and not the only ones who have acted inappropriately.  at can inspire us to work on trying to become the best possible version of ourselves because we care, we love, and we want to be “normal,” whatever that is. We’re able to help ourselves because we were taught to overcome and improvise. Veterans’ Voices helps us to do just that! I have six years of proof! I am no doctor, nobody special. I believe in science but think in many ways the arts are more powerful. For me, and I hope for you as well, science, the arts, and spiritual awareness blend together to form a sense of peace and a path to health. Hopefully, even if the demons still come—as they do for me— always remember: “Call Me Brother, or Sister, and we will fight them together!” You are never alone and working to produce a story, poem or artwork for Veterans’ Voices proves that “in spades” my friends! I do it and you can, too!