The hardest thing for me in Vietnam wasn't seeing the wounded and dead. It was watching the big transport jets come in, bringing loads of fresh new boys for the war.
Johnny Cash
Marine in Vietnam, 1965
I grew up watching the Vietnam War on television and, by the time I was old enough to be aware of what I was watching, I hated the war and the men who were fighting it. My first boyfriend, who I only dated for several months, was drafted not long after we broke up - the reason, he wanted to have sex and I didn't. Although I agonized over my decision, I realized that I was too young and I was afraid to "go all the way," with someone older than myself. A good decision for me, but one he was unhappy about. Wartime brings out a sense of urgency in young men who are bound for an uncertain future.
My first serious boyfriend, who I began dating in the fall of 1969, was anti-war and anti-draft. In 1970, we wore the grooves out on our Woodstock album and listened to Country Joe McDonald's anti-war anthem over and over. In 1971, we marched in one of the last large anti-war demonstrations in Ann Arbor. We watched as others smashed windows at the Army recruiting office, although we didn't throw any stones.
Meanwhile, during those years, young men were coming home from Vietnam: some in body bags, some with physical injuries, all changed permanently. As Jose Narosky says, "In war, there are no unwounded soldiers." Those young men weren't our enemies. We didn't realize it then, but I know it now. The year we graduated from high school was the last official year of the draft and my boyfriend drew a high number. Meanwhile, the husband of one of my Kentucky cousins wasn't so lucky: he was drafted in 1970 and ended up driving truck in Vietnam. We never spoke of it, but it's possible that he, too, encountered things that he would never forget. The times had changed since my uncles went to war and the returning Vietnam vets had changed with them. Protests were roaring through the country like wildfire and, while many soldiers responded to these protests with anger, others joined them under their own banner.
Vietnam Veterans Against the War, 1974
Vietnam Veterans Against the War (VVAW) was founded in New York City in 1967 and began speaking out about the atrocities of the war. Meanwhile, growing numbers of veterans were plagued by symptoms of the complaint known as "soldier's heart" or "shell shock" or "battle fatigue" in earlier wars. In the "speak out" climate of the 60s and early 70s, veterans held "rap sessions," and encouraged each other to share wartime experiences. Initially, veterans referred to their mental health problems as post-Vietnam syndrome. In 1980, this condition was added to the DSM-III (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders), as Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. For the first time, veterans were given an "official" diagnosis for the cluster of symtoms that soldiers have complained of ever since there were wars. This was a landmark moment for veterans not just because they now had a diagnosis for their symptoms, but because having a diagnosis meant that they were more likely to be compensated and better able to organize to deal with the impact combat had on their lives. Watch the clip of Ron Kovic (real-life hero of Born on the 4th of July) below as he talks about Vietnam Vets and their struggle to heal from PTSD.
In his interview, Kovic mentions homeless veterans. This is a serious problem, not only for Vietnam Vets, but one already facing veterans of the Afghani and Iraqi wars. For more on Vietnam Veterans and PTSD check out the book Soldier's Heart.
More next time on how communities can support trauma survivors and how PTSD has been extended to cover a range of other traumas.
