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*This piece is intended to share thoughts I believe are common for those who can relate. I am safe but hope those who may not be can read this and understand they are not alone. If you need help, call the VA crisis line at: [login to see] and press 1.*
“I am at war with myself and, when I say war, I mean war. Have you seen it? War I mean, not me. I have – I have seen real war. I’ve seen blood and broken bodies. I’ve heard the screams from women and children. I’ve sat huddled with my friends waiting for the bombs to quit falling all around us. I’ve laughed during the sound of explosions in order to cover up the fact that I didn’t know if the next one would be the one that finally ended this story that I call my life. I have seen war. I have experienced it. When I say that I am at war with myself I mean that I am really, truly at war."
“I am at war with myself. I mean that I am broken. I am bleeding even though you don’t see the wounds. I am screaming even though you may not hear the sounds. I am sitting in a bunker as the bombs drop all around me and I am trying desperately to keep it all together. I am laughing with my friends at a bar so that they don’t see that I am really contemplating putting my pistol into my mouth tonight because every time that I close my eyes I see that one guy that I had to shoot that one time. I see him and sometimes I question whether I had to and then I wonder whether I am evil or not. I wonder whether I deserved to live when I knew men that never made it home. They never made it home alive that is. They made it home in boxes but I came home walking out of a plane. I walked off a plane after having, only about a day earlier, been in a warzone for about a year. I was just there. Not two days earlier, I can remember the incoming alarm going off and my friends and I jumped into a bunker and listened as the largest game of Russian roulette played out around us. Where is the next explosion going to go off? Nobody knows."
“I am at war with myself. I don’t wear my uniform anymore. I don’t stand tall beside the bravest men and women that I have ever had the pleasure of calling my family. I live alone in my tiny apartment because my wife left me because I wasn’t the same man that she had married. She took my daughter with her because she didn’t want her to be around me because I was what she liked to call unstable. I can’t sleep at night because I see and hear things when the world is too silent but then during the day I am so sedated by pills that I don’t want to move."
“I am at war with myself. At war with who I once was and who I am today. The man who once shouldered a rifle and willingly would walk through the fire and smoke if someone had told me to and now the crippled man who, if it is loud and sudden enough, jumps in his own skin at the sound of a loud noise. God forbid a car backfires near me because I won’t be able to move for a good few minutes."
“I am at war with myself. Fighting between what I want to believe and what I know to be true. Wishing that I could believe in a higher power and its plan and feeling as though the entire world is just going up in flames because no one and nothing gives a damn. I would walk into a church and ask God what the hell is going on but I don’t think that I am welcome among that kind of company. I have hated, I have killed, and I have not been the best kind of person; I don’t even think that I would make it but a few feet through the door before everyone in the sanctuary realizes that I do not belong there. They wouldn’t say anything. They would probably even smile and tell me that I am one of God’s children but there would be that feeling in the pit of my stomach that they know the horrible things that I have done."
“I am at war with myself. My emotions are always out of wack. I don’t know how to answer people when they ask how I am and I really would rather crawl into a hole sometimes in order to get away from everyone and everything. The world is too busy and too loud and too ugly and just does not look the same as it did before I saw war. Everywhere I go now, I see war; there is always something somewhere that reminds me of it."
“I am at war with myself because I can’t be at war with the enemy anymore. I was trained, driven, and ordered to conduct war and, while I was doing it, I was fine. I could wage war with the best of them; in fact, I loved soldiering. Being a soldier was my calling and now it is gone. It was taken from me!"
“I am at war with myself because I don’t know how to stop. There is no cure for this disease, no antidote for this poison. I am at war with my ghosts because I must be at war. I was a soldier. I am a soldier. I am at war because it is what I know."
“I am at war with myself... I’ve been better.”
“I am at war with myself and, when I say war, I mean war. Have you seen it? War I mean, not me. I have – I have seen real war. I’ve seen blood and broken bodies. I’ve heard the screams from women and children. I’ve sat huddled with my friends waiting for the bombs to quit falling all around us. I’ve laughed during the sound of explosions in order to cover up the fact that I didn’t know if the next one would be the one that finally ended this story that I call my life. I have seen war. I have experienced it. When I say that I am at war with myself I mean that I am really, truly at war."
“I am at war with myself. I mean that I am broken. I am bleeding even though you don’t see the wounds. I am screaming even though you may not hear the sounds. I am sitting in a bunker as the bombs drop all around me and I am trying desperately to keep it all together. I am laughing with my friends at a bar so that they don’t see that I am really contemplating putting my pistol into my mouth tonight because every time that I close my eyes I see that one guy that I had to shoot that one time. I see him and sometimes I question whether I had to and then I wonder whether I am evil or not. I wonder whether I deserved to live when I knew men that never made it home. They never made it home alive that is. They made it home in boxes but I came home walking out of a plane. I walked off a plane after having, only about a day earlier, been in a warzone for about a year. I was just there. Not two days earlier, I can remember the incoming alarm going off and my friends and I jumped into a bunker and listened as the largest game of Russian roulette played out around us. Where is the next explosion going to go off? Nobody knows."
“I am at war with myself. I don’t wear my uniform anymore. I don’t stand tall beside the bravest men and women that I have ever had the pleasure of calling my family. I live alone in my tiny apartment because my wife left me because I wasn’t the same man that she had married. She took my daughter with her because she didn’t want her to be around me because I was what she liked to call unstable. I can’t sleep at night because I see and hear things when the world is too silent but then during the day I am so sedated by pills that I don’t want to move."
“I am at war with myself. At war with who I once was and who I am today. The man who once shouldered a rifle and willingly would walk through the fire and smoke if someone had told me to and now the crippled man who, if it is loud and sudden enough, jumps in his own skin at the sound of a loud noise. God forbid a car backfires near me because I won’t be able to move for a good few minutes."
“I am at war with myself. Fighting between what I want to believe and what I know to be true. Wishing that I could believe in a higher power and its plan and feeling as though the entire world is just going up in flames because no one and nothing gives a damn. I would walk into a church and ask God what the hell is going on but I don’t think that I am welcome among that kind of company. I have hated, I have killed, and I have not been the best kind of person; I don’t even think that I would make it but a few feet through the door before everyone in the sanctuary realizes that I do not belong there. They wouldn’t say anything. They would probably even smile and tell me that I am one of God’s children but there would be that feeling in the pit of my stomach that they know the horrible things that I have done."
“I am at war with myself. My emotions are always out of wack. I don’t know how to answer people when they ask how I am and I really would rather crawl into a hole sometimes in order to get away from everyone and everything. The world is too busy and too loud and too ugly and just does not look the same as it did before I saw war. Everywhere I go now, I see war; there is always something somewhere that reminds me of it."
“I am at war with myself because I can’t be at war with the enemy anymore. I was trained, driven, and ordered to conduct war and, while I was doing it, I was fine. I could wage war with the best of them; in fact, I loved soldiering. Being a soldier was my calling and now it is gone. It was taken from me!"
“I am at war with myself because I don’t know how to stop. There is no cure for this disease, no antidote for this poison. I am at war with my ghosts because I must be at war. I was a soldier. I am a soldier. I am at war because it is what I know."
“I am at war with myself... I’ve been better.”
SGT
Fort Cavazos
Fort Knox
Fort Carson
Operation Iraqi Freedom (OIF)
Posted 8 y ago
Responses: 19
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Amen Brother, we can only learn to cope. Helping others and banding together seems to ease the problems some! Love you
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Sgt Gunderson. I can relate to what you have shared. I too feel bad about what I have done in the military. I felt that not even God could or would accept me. I later found out that was a lie from the enemy. God loves me just as I am, right where I am at. There is redemption and love and acceptance from the great redeemer Jesus Christ. I too felt beyond saving. I felt as if people knew what I had done they would shrink away in disgust. That is not the truth. Please pray to Jesus to save you to help you to cleanse you to be your ever constant friend. My walk with Jesus has helped me heal, it has provided other people around me who also love and accept me. It has not fixed me, I want to be honest. I still struggle, but there is a life line. My life has been redirected. You have many brothers and sisters here who love and accept you, no matter what. Thanks for reaching out. Praying for you.
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Another place to get help is Give an Hour. Mental health assistance requiring no payment or insurance. Not connected to the military or Veterans Affairs.
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I'm right there with you. 2 days after my b-day I was informed that the wife and 4 of the kids were leaving soon. Every day is a struggle, so I can truly relate.
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SGT Joseph Gunderson
I thank you for your concern, but really I am fine. I spent a long time in a bad place and have since found my way into the light. This was a piece that I wrote for the VA Creative Writing Festival and I just wanted to share it with everyone.
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I can relate to some of this story - with some of my own experiences. I've seen all of that when I was a 20 year old helicopter gunship pilot. I've been shot up and shot down, and literally had a 1/2 inch wide emergency jettison handle deflect a bullet headed directly for my head - the handle hit me in the shoulder without injury. I've hovered over the carnage when all our ammo and rockets were spent while another crewmember opened the doors to "finish the job" with a .38 caliber pistol. I saw the carnage I created, but I didn't hear the screams because of rotor and engine noise in a helicopter. I know what damage a minigun, 40mmm grenade, 20mm cannon, 10#, 17#, Fleschette, WP, HE, VT rockets can do. Away from other "friendies", in the middle of nowhere, it was impossible to take prisoners even when people threw their hands up to "surrender". My vision of war was thru plexiglass, in an air-conditioned seat, sometimes listening to Armed Forces Radio "hit songs" in my helmet. I've also spent time in bunkers while under enemy sapper attacks, mortar fire, and within a couple hundred feet from where our ammo dump blew up. In 1971, During Lam Son 719 (Feb to Apr drawdown), We had to change out our GPMedium 3 times in a three week period due to daily enemy rocket and arty shrapnel, and aso when the ammo dump blew. Hundreds of helcopters were lost and shot down in a two month period. Tail #780 (my bird) was one of them - in Laos, Feb '71. "Fortune" had it that I had been diverted to another aircraft. By my arrival in Nam in May 1970, I KNEW I was in an unpopular war, I KNEW the troop "pullout" had begun, and in May '71, I returned home to a vocal, hate-filled anti-war crowd. Circumstances were setting me up to fail - if I let them. It was up to me to prevent that. I was an atheist during those years.
No doubt about it, WAR IS HELL! That said, my experiences in war are not much different than any other's who had to put their life on the line or shoot at the enemy, other than I got thru it unscathed.. . I didn't have to "get in the mud and climb hills" because I never had to E&E. I lost many friends though, including my best friend.... their names are on the Wall - and in the VHPA database. During my "postwar" career, however, I've lost more friends than I did in Nam. Many were in aircraft accidents and other tragedies.
How we were received when we came back is a completely different story, which has affected me ever since. I don't think anyone should LIKE war, though I've heard that some do. I put in my tour -- doing my job the best I could do - most times in tremendous fear and stress. I saw it as a nesessary "duty" which I volunteered to do. When I got back to the States, I never sought to fly gunships again. Instead, I preferred Medevacs or Maintenance. I can still conjure up memories and visions - and I know I have forgotten much, and as a rule I prefer to keep it buried. I don't like telling war stories, as a rule. I don't care to go any deeper on this post than I've already gone.
For those who brought the war home with them, realize the importance of a loving (family) support group. Try to compartmentalize your experience accepting the fact that war is pure hell, and living the rest of your life is up to you. If you need to do something different, DO IT. Alcohol and drugs and "pitty-parties" are not helpful. Change to something else that will keep you from having to study or remember war. War stories are not helpful IMHO. When you hear them from someone else, keep in mind that they can get embellished - it seems to be a part of human nature. Seek psychological help from professionals, not the unskilled - the non-professionals can make it worse.
Finally, don't discount the spiritual side of getting help. I had grown up in Church and practiced a form of "churchianity" without being a Christian. I became an Atheist (of sorts) in my teens- and I rejected all forms of religion. They all claimed that their religion was right, and yet I had a hard time noting a difference between how they acted and how the world acted. Turns out I was wrong in my atheism - when I discovered at age 23 - that "religions" (and atheism IS also a "religion" of faith) are man-made with varying amounts of truth (I consider to be God's part) mixed with varying amounts of error (man's - or satan's part), but there really IS a possibility of having a PERSONAL relationship with God thru Christ's work on the Cross. The Bible spells it all out. I put my skepticism aside and bent my knee to the Biblical Jesus. Since then, it's been a liftetime of growth and learning.
Basic Christianity is really so simple, even a child can understand, if you share the "good news" with them. You "sort of start out" as a "baby Christian", and you grow from there, except for the times you allow your sinful "flesh" to reign in your life instead of Christ. Atheists get lost in all the"spin", but it's not rocket science. A great help would be to start by reading the Gospel of John (not skimming, but concentrating - like reading a detailed family biography). Throw out a sincere prayer to God (if He's "out" there) to help you in your attempt to find Him. Worked for me. BTW, I'm non-denominational, and not a theologian, though I did attend a Christian Aviation school in the late '70s, early '80s. I know Grace will carry me through my imperfections - having been made righteous in the shed blood of Yesuah Messiah, a "done deal" sealed by the Spirit. PTL
No doubt about it, WAR IS HELL! That said, my experiences in war are not much different than any other's who had to put their life on the line or shoot at the enemy, other than I got thru it unscathed.. . I didn't have to "get in the mud and climb hills" because I never had to E&E. I lost many friends though, including my best friend.... their names are on the Wall - and in the VHPA database. During my "postwar" career, however, I've lost more friends than I did in Nam. Many were in aircraft accidents and other tragedies.
How we were received when we came back is a completely different story, which has affected me ever since. I don't think anyone should LIKE war, though I've heard that some do. I put in my tour -- doing my job the best I could do - most times in tremendous fear and stress. I saw it as a nesessary "duty" which I volunteered to do. When I got back to the States, I never sought to fly gunships again. Instead, I preferred Medevacs or Maintenance. I can still conjure up memories and visions - and I know I have forgotten much, and as a rule I prefer to keep it buried. I don't like telling war stories, as a rule. I don't care to go any deeper on this post than I've already gone.
For those who brought the war home with them, realize the importance of a loving (family) support group. Try to compartmentalize your experience accepting the fact that war is pure hell, and living the rest of your life is up to you. If you need to do something different, DO IT. Alcohol and drugs and "pitty-parties" are not helpful. Change to something else that will keep you from having to study or remember war. War stories are not helpful IMHO. When you hear them from someone else, keep in mind that they can get embellished - it seems to be a part of human nature. Seek psychological help from professionals, not the unskilled - the non-professionals can make it worse.
Finally, don't discount the spiritual side of getting help. I had grown up in Church and practiced a form of "churchianity" without being a Christian. I became an Atheist (of sorts) in my teens- and I rejected all forms of religion. They all claimed that their religion was right, and yet I had a hard time noting a difference between how they acted and how the world acted. Turns out I was wrong in my atheism - when I discovered at age 23 - that "religions" (and atheism IS also a "religion" of faith) are man-made with varying amounts of truth (I consider to be God's part) mixed with varying amounts of error (man's - or satan's part), but there really IS a possibility of having a PERSONAL relationship with God thru Christ's work on the Cross. The Bible spells it all out. I put my skepticism aside and bent my knee to the Biblical Jesus. Since then, it's been a liftetime of growth and learning.
Basic Christianity is really so simple, even a child can understand, if you share the "good news" with them. You "sort of start out" as a "baby Christian", and you grow from there, except for the times you allow your sinful "flesh" to reign in your life instead of Christ. Atheists get lost in all the"spin", but it's not rocket science. A great help would be to start by reading the Gospel of John (not skimming, but concentrating - like reading a detailed family biography). Throw out a sincere prayer to God (if He's "out" there) to help you in your attempt to find Him. Worked for me. BTW, I'm non-denominational, and not a theologian, though I did attend a Christian Aviation school in the late '70s, early '80s. I know Grace will carry me through my imperfections - having been made righteous in the shed blood of Yesuah Messiah, a "done deal" sealed by the Spirit. PTL
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PTSD is a bitch and I can relate as well and feel for you. It is up to us though to seek out help to deal with this, so please get Mental Health counseling or this demon will destroy you for good. I wish you the best on your struggle, that you may improve. God bless you and keep you!
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Like countless other Veterans, I struggle with the depression hopelessness and suicidal ideas that come with being in war. I do my best to keep busy and my mind free. I am fortunate to have a supportive family and my brothers I served with around me. Stay strong brother. We're all in this together.
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SGT Joseph Gunderson This is one of the most powerful, raw, and real reflections that I have seen or heard. I had to read 2 novels for school, one called, "The Good Soldiers" and the other called, "Thank You For Your Service" - both by David Finkel. These books were well written and reminded me a lot of Band of Brothers.... reminded me a lot of what I just read from you, although I have to admit, yours brought tears to my eyes and I think that there are a lot of people who can relate to these words and probably silently thank you since they might be having difficulty expressing or identifying what they are thinking or feeling at the moment. Good looking out!
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