The 2010 Ford Transit Connect

The 2010 Ford Transit Connect

Livin' The Life

Livin' The Life

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Humor In Battle

Hi All How strange to be thinking about something like this but today I started remembering the things that were so different about being in a war. Not the shells and bullets and the loud noises but the fact that we wore our sink on our heads. The services called them helmets but we knew the truth. We brushed our teeth in them. Shaved with the water they held. Took what Mom used to call a cat bath in it and sometimes even heated some of the awful food we got from those WW11 rations that they first issued us. Funny how after all these years you are finally able to look back and see some humor in what we knew as ordinary life on the battleground. No one admitted it but everyone was scared. You were just young boys trying to be men but you still felt the tears running down your cheeks when someone screamed out in pain. No one had really impressed us with the terminal issues that you have to face. All we knew was what we had heard from our uncles who had returned from the Big One and they had said very little. Most of what we believed was really the result of fertile imaginations. Reality took away our bravado and replaced it with the conviction that we probably would never see home again and that made it possible to face each day. It was not long before fear gave way to anger and then the anger turned to hate. You hated the very reason that you were there. The term soldier and warrior were an insult and the enemy was cause for where we were and what we were doing. We were no longer the boys that left home we were a destructive machine that had one purpose --- kill or be killed. We did what we were told and we brought the results back to our own nation when it was over. No one cheered, no one cared. We were strangers in our own land and WE had to figure out how to readjust to a society that was too busy to help. most of us failed miserably. We learned how to put on a mask and survive behind what it represented. To be ourselves would have been suicide. When we talked many times it was as if we had been talking to ourselves. No one answered and after a short time we realized that we were being ignored. So we struggled and we survived or we cracked and we were institutionalized. Some like myself sought help but there was none. Few understood what was wrong with us and nobody had the formula for getting us back to being anything like we had been before we went over. Today it is worse than ever as the young men come back and enter into a society that has no idea how to help. They fail to realize that we have changed one enemy for another and this time the enemy is right here in the place we live. Don't be surprised when a serviceman who has returned from combat goes off the deep end. Understand that he has been walking a tightrope from the very first day that he returned. Today there is help but if someone won't point that out these returnees won't know how to go about getting it. I write this because I know that all of you know someone like me and I pray that you will reach out to one of them before it is too late. May peace be with you Ralph Arbitelle