I cried.
It was my last hour in Iraq. My unit was in a quonset hut waiting for our flight out of the country. I went out back, sat down with my rifle between my legs. I took a long look around me…and I cried. This was it for me. I was going to take that flight home, take my uniform off, and kiss the girl of my dreams. Yet I cried. Hard.
This part of my life was over. Sergeant Griffeath was going away to be replaced by Mr. Griffeath. It was a hard deployment for me emotionally, and I was excited to come home, but I didn’t want to put my true self away. I’ve always liked Sgt. Griffeath. I’d built my identity around war. I felt that I did good in the world. I loved the high you get while at war, the high that many feel but few admit.
I didn’t make a good Mr. Griffeath. I immediately became depressed. I haven’t really pulled out of it yet. It’s a daily fight. But my situation isn’t unique. It’s shared by countless veterans.
They say that the military “brainwashes” you. I don’t buy it. There is a class of people in this country with a different makeup. The military attracts these people and they congregate and feed off of each other. Despite what the recruiting propaganda tells you, the military doesn’t tear you down and rebuild you. Boot camp doesn’t make Marines. It takes people with the precious rare raw material to become Marines and gives them the opportunity to prove it. So too with the other services.
These people, veterans, are simply a different breed of person. They need a fight. They build their identity around it. But what happens to them when they leave the little world where they are waging war, or preparing to wage war?
This:
Becomes this pathetic creature:
I loved Samurai films, and not just because they’re simply westerns on the other side of the world. I saw an excellent Samurai film a few days ago called Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai. The movie is based around a string of suicide bluffs that came after Samurai began killing themselves when they no longer were needed. Many of these samurai killed themselves because when they were no longer needed they became destitute, ashamed of their newly found low status. To save themselves from the shame of their poverty and preserve their honor they killed themselves.
So it goes with the depression suffered by veterans and their high suicide rates. We have our niche and our world amongst each other. We feel separate from society. And we fail to adjust well to civilian life. It isn’t because of the military — it’s because of who we are. The military just gives it a good nudge.
These samurai killed themselves. Batman found Bane and proceeded to find himself again in the fight. What veterans need to discover is that coming home has not removed them from a fight. It’s simply changed the nature of the war. The war in the civilian world lacks the highs, and it’s a long, grueling, protracted war. But it’s real. Look at your country. Look at the survivability of your species. The veteran is needed. The warrior class is needed. And it takes a remarkable warrior indeed who can fight in both worlds instead of one. Veterans need to be shown this battle. It took Bane to rebuild Batman. The veteran doesn’t have Bane when he comes home. The veteran then has to become a GREATER warrior than Batman.
I haven’t been able to fully internalize the civilian world yet, but perhaps we can show better men than myself the fight that exists all around us.
