Heroes

I know a man. Call him Eddie. He’s African American, going on about 63. When he was a boy he had no real home or much education, so when he was eighteen he took the only option available to him. He joined the military. That was 1967.

He must have been a hell of a soldier. He ended up in the Army’s 1st Cavalry Division. (One of the toughest outfits around.)

In February of 1968 he fought in the battle of Hue during the Tet offensive. He was in non-stop firefights for three weeks. He said half his platoon were killed or wounded. He told me about the time he held onto a fellow soldier, while he bled to death from a sniper round through the throat.

After the Tet Offensive his tour was up, but for some stupid reason (probably a few thousand dollars) he did a second tour. In April of 1968 he went back “up country” with the 1st Cav. This time he fought in the A Shau Valley. (This was referred to at the “Valley of Death". The fighting was as bad as any combat in history). He once talked of the time that he spent a night in a bomb crater with two dead comrades while the Viet Cong were shooting AK47s with green tracers over his head. He also talked about killing his enemy in hand-to-hand combat. His buddies did the same. For some reason, Eddie walked away from it.

But he was a broken man. He has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). He has never been able to function properly. He is afraid of everything. On the Fourth of July he has to be sedated. He’s terrified by the noise of the fireworks.

The Army never questioned that he was damaged goods, and that it was his time in battle that was responsible. They gave him antidepressants; after a while he got a half disability pension. Life was just a struggle. Eight years ago I banged on a bunch of doors and helped him get a full disability pension. He’s okay these days, sort of.

More