Last year, there was a letter to the editor in The Hays (Kansas) Daily News, in which the writer stated to the effect that he fired off fireworks on the 4th of July in honor of those who had fought for this country in its various wars. I will give the writer the benefit of the doubt as to his sincerity; however, if he wishes to honor me, I wish he would do it some other way.
I thought I had gotten out of Vietnam entirely unscathed. Unlike many of my friends in the local Vietnam Veterans of America chapter, it was never my job to engage in combat, though I was often in harm’s way and frequently somewhere near the receiving end of “incoming.” Certainly I was unaware of anything bothering me excessively while I was there, except for being away from my wife and children. The booming of the artillery through the night was even soothing while I was in Vietnam – probably aided my sleep. Within a few months after returning at the end of December 1969, though, I was aware of what seemed to be residual effects. I was finishing up a bachelor’s degree (the Army had given me six months off to do so), living in a dorm during the week and spending the weekends with my wife and children in Salina, Kansas. When I was driving back and forth on weekends between Kansas City and Salina, I caught myself changing lanes and speeding up on I-70, with no other traffic around. It dawned on me that I was changing to the left lane and increasing my speed in a particular spot in the Flint Hills because of what looked like a potential ambush point on the right.
When I figured out what was happening, I though it was pretty funny. It was less funny when a service station attendant threw a firecracker into the restroom when I was standing at the urinal, and I found myself sliding face-down under the dividers and behind the commodes. It was a good five hours before my pulse rate was back to normal. The rush of adrenaline at loud noises was something that subsided a lot over the next thirty-or-so years. At Fort Leavenworth, after I finished my degree, a subordinate remarked that I reminded him of an over-wound watch. He said he had never seen anyone wound up so tight. I also became aware that I had an underlying sort of baseline condition of anger, which almost anything could bring forth. I had to concentrate on suppressing any behavior commensurate with the anger. I had probably always been ambivalent toward authority, but I think the balance had shifted sometime during my tour in Vietnam. During the remainder of my Army career, and even later, I had to concentrate on not manifesting a very negative bias toward authority. It has been thirty-one years now, since I retired from the Army, and nearly forty years since I left Vietnam. I don’t look for ambush points along the highway any more. The baseline anger condition has mostly subsided. I do tend, even now, to be a bit skeptical of authority, though I usually cooperate. I do tend, even now, to react to explosions with a rush of adrenaline and an increased pulse rate. I lose a lot of sleep around the 4th of July.














Comments (1)
Weeden, your post will surely resonate with all those who have been engaged in combat or seen first hand the horror that war brings. I claim no combat experience, and I thank God for it. But I have had the same thoughts about the 4th of July fireworks. It strikes me as tragic that so many young people are mindlessly caught up in the "glory and grandeur" of militarism. Perhaps if young men sent the old men to war, rather than old men sending youth, at least some of the bloodshed would end. (I use sexist language purposely, because it seems to me that war is a male-dominated psychology.)
Thank you for sharing your wisdom with all of us. BH
Posted by bob hooper
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July 10, 2009 1:46 PM
Posted on July 10, 2009 13:46