Craig Latham
Hello,
Pardon me for sending this to you, but I was diagnosed with PTSD in the late 80s. This helped me and I wanted to share with you.
My Time At The Wall
by Craig Latham
It had been twenty-five years since I left Vietnam. My brother-in-law and I had just finished a weekend at Bristol, Tennesee, where we watched our first Nascar race in person. We still had to go to Virginia Beach for a couple of days and then on to Washington D.C.
We arrived at the wall just about 6am as the sun was coming up. It was gonna be another hot day in August. This is when I realized it had been exactly twenty-five years to the day that I left the hot sun of Vietnam and boarded the "Freedom Bird" home. The heat in the United States was nothing, compared to the humid heat of the jungle. Sometimes you would sit in the sun to cool off because you were constantly hot and wet in the jungle.
Anyway, back to D.C. We got to the wall just as the sun was coming up and only one other couple was there. They had been there many times before. He had made this pilgrimage there every year for the past ten years. He told us it was part of his healing process. I asked him what he did in Vietnam and he said he had been a "grunt". We chatted for a few minutes, "Welcomed" each other home, and then he told us how to find what we were looking for.
My brother-in-law, Bob, had been in Vietnam about two years before me. I looked down the shiny black wall and noticed Bob was down on one knee. I didn't know if he was praying, crying, or a little bit of both. I didn't ask. This was his private time with someone he knew a long time ago.
I had a list of names of people I wanted to look up, too. Most were people from my home county (Coshocton, Ohio). I found them all, and made etchings of each. They had all been in Vietnam before me. Some were "Grunts", "Medic", "Crew Chief", "Door Gunner", and "Pilots".
The last one I looked for was my friend Andy B. He had been a "Door Gunner" for the 2nd Brigade Hq. in the 101St Airborne Division (Ambl) in Phu Bai, S. Vietnam. Andy was short, (not in stature, but in time left in Vietnam). He and his pilot were on their way back to Phu Bai when they heard a unit in trouble and went to see if they could be of any help. They were shot down. Both killed. Andy and I were gonna have a couple of beers that evening when he got back, but I drank alone that night. The next day, I had to go out with an infantry unit and wouldn't get back to Phu Bai for a week. I missed his "Memorial Service". I felt bad.
I had my own "Memorial Service" for Andy that day at the wall. Something happened that day. I found Andy's name on the wall and as I reached out to touch his name, all I could see was a hand (actually my reflection) coming at me from the blackness. As I touched the "Wall" and the hand, it felt as if something was stripped from my body. A weight of twenty-five years was gone. It was as if the hand belonged to Andy and he was saying, "It's over now. It's time to let go." That day, something happened. From that day forward, the night sweats slowly subsided. The waking up in the middle of the night screaming, stopped.
"The Wall" has healing powers and no one can tell me any different.
The ride home from D.C. with my brother-in-law was a quiet one. Each of us was reflecting on our past, present and probably our future.
Welcome home, all "Vietnam Veterans".
Craig Latham
Combat Writer/Photographer
1970-1971
34th Public Information Detachment (34th PID)
2nd Brigade/101st Airborne Division (Ambl)
Phu Bai, S. Vietnam
Pardon me for sending this to you, but I was diagnosed with PTSD in the late 80s. This helped me and I wanted to share with you.
My Time At The Wall
by Craig Latham
It had been twenty-five years since I left Vietnam. My brother-in-law and I had just finished a weekend at Bristol, Tennesee, where we watched our first Nascar race in person. We still had to go to Virginia Beach for a couple of days and then on to Washington D.C.
We arrived at the wall just about 6am as the sun was coming up. It was gonna be another hot day in August. This is when I realized it had been exactly twenty-five years to the day that I left the hot sun of Vietnam and boarded the "Freedom Bird" home. The heat in the United States was nothing, compared to the humid heat of the jungle. Sometimes you would sit in the sun to cool off because you were constantly hot and wet in the jungle.
Anyway, back to D.C. We got to the wall just as the sun was coming up and only one other couple was there. They had been there many times before. He had made this pilgrimage there every year for the past ten years. He told us it was part of his healing process. I asked him what he did in Vietnam and he said he had been a "grunt". We chatted for a few minutes, "Welcomed" each other home, and then he told us how to find what we were looking for.
My brother-in-law, Bob, had been in Vietnam about two years before me. I looked down the shiny black wall and noticed Bob was down on one knee. I didn't know if he was praying, crying, or a little bit of both. I didn't ask. This was his private time with someone he knew a long time ago.
I had a list of names of people I wanted to look up, too. Most were people from my home county (Coshocton, Ohio). I found them all, and made etchings of each. They had all been in Vietnam before me. Some were "Grunts", "Medic", "Crew Chief", "Door Gunner", and "Pilots".
The last one I looked for was my friend Andy B. He had been a "Door Gunner" for the 2nd Brigade Hq. in the 101St Airborne Division (Ambl) in Phu Bai, S. Vietnam. Andy was short, (not in stature, but in time left in Vietnam). He and his pilot were on their way back to Phu Bai when they heard a unit in trouble and went to see if they could be of any help. They were shot down. Both killed. Andy and I were gonna have a couple of beers that evening when he got back, but I drank alone that night. The next day, I had to go out with an infantry unit and wouldn't get back to Phu Bai for a week. I missed his "Memorial Service". I felt bad.
I had my own "Memorial Service" for Andy that day at the wall. Something happened that day. I found Andy's name on the wall and as I reached out to touch his name, all I could see was a hand (actually my reflection) coming at me from the blackness. As I touched the "Wall" and the hand, it felt as if something was stripped from my body. A weight of twenty-five years was gone. It was as if the hand belonged to Andy and he was saying, "It's over now. It's time to let go." That day, something happened. From that day forward, the night sweats slowly subsided. The waking up in the middle of the night screaming, stopped.
"The Wall" has healing powers and no one can tell me any different.
The ride home from D.C. with my brother-in-law was a quiet one. Each of us was reflecting on our past, present and probably our future.
Welcome home, all "Vietnam Veterans".
Craig Latham
Combat Writer/Photographer
1970-1971
34th Public Information Detachment (34th PID)
2nd Brigade/101st Airborne Division (Ambl)
Phu Bai, S. Vietnam
No comments:
Post a Comment