Tears of a Warrior


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The Nightmare Revisited

Posted: 19 Jan 2010 04:47 AM PST



By Janet J. Seahorn

Last year at this time, Tony and I were in Vietnam and Cambodia. It was a humbling, yet inspiring excursion. As Tony stated many times, he did not go there to heal or recreate the war. He wanted to visit, only to see how things had changed, with hopes that the people and the country were mending.

By all outward appearances hope seemed to be occurring. Yet, what keep coming back to me, were the faces of the old women. We did not see the same number of older men, perhaps because many of this age were killed in the war. The women’s faces were not happy. Their features lined with rivers of anger. It was the eyes that held the emotions, and for many, their emotions were tortuous and hate-filled. What haunts me now are the faces I glimpse in the newspapers of civilians in Iraq and Afghanistan; similar looks living in human bodies experiencing similar horrors of war.

As we continue to read of the escalation of suicides of returning military men and women, I wonder if such unforgettable faces are haunting them. Faces of the enemy, faces of their comrades, faces of the children? In the first few blogs of this New Year, I wrote of Peace. Can it be attained in a person’s mind and heart after experiencing so much? I very much want to believe such a peace is possible. For others, the hideous experiences continue to dig deeper ravines into the soul. To heal, even a bit, these gorges must be filled in gradually.

Perhaps not fully, but even building up the crevasses a little keeps one from falling into the yawning depths of depression, anxiety, and hopelessness. As long as one can look up and see the sky, hope is present. It is when one’s existence is swallowed in darkness that even the tiniest light is diminished. Finding ways to keep the sunlight accessible for our returning vets will be the work of everyone: the nation, its people, families, friends, communities, and most importantly, the veteran.

We have troops leaving daily for the war zone, and others returning. A 2008 Rand Corporation study revealed that 300,000 troops who served in Iraq and Afghanistan had Post-Traumatic Stress, while 320,000 reported probable traumatic brain injuries. Both conditions greatly increase the likelihood of attempted suicide. “According to a Congressional Quarterly compilation in late November 2009, 334 active-duty military service men and women have taken their own lives in 2009″ (Edward Pages, 2009: The Year of Soldier’s Suicide), and this does not include those military individuals who have been discharged.

Let us all be sure to look into these eyes of freedom and not dismiss the signs of their sacrifice. Peace and healing is everyone’s work; everyone’s answerability. As a nation, it must be our core mission to mend and heal all those that fought in lands where few of us ever think to venture.

I doubt if many of our returning military personnel have rational thoughts of wanting to return to the combat zone. It took almost forty years for us to do so.

One of our favorite veterans, Michael MacDonald, wrote us the other day relating his response to those who frequently ask him if he ever wants to return to Vietnam for a visit. His reply, “Why, I was just there last night.”

And, for many, this statement is all too true. It is those nights without returning that we pray for in our sleep and dreams. It is those nights without revisiting the nightmares that keep us healing.

Tears of a Warrior


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Another Perspective on War

Posted: 12 Jan 2010 04:28 AM PST


by Janet J. Seahorn
It is a snowy Sunday afternoon. I have been running errands, not because I have a great deal to do after the holidays; to be honest, I am merely trying to keep from thinking about the escalation of the war in Afghanistan. When I got home, Tony had posted a new message on our blog that began with “I seem to spend a lot of time thinking about war, even when I don’t want to. The reality of war. The horror of war…” With this blog he added an article from our local newspaper, The Denver Post. It was another reality check from troops actually involved in war, versus media or political rhetoric.
Every day we get emails, phone calls, or an acquaintance sharing a tragic story about a loved one, friend, or just someone they distantly know who is struggling with Post-Traumatic Stress. For those who have and are serving in the current conflict, the stories are so similar to Vietnam veterans it is down right eerie.
For some individuals the nightmares begin immediately. Others seem OK for the first six months or even a year, and then it begins, the panic attacks, unresolved anger, anxiety, and night terrors. The narratives, however, seem to remain the same. The vet initially attributes the emotions to some external force. He/she claims the feelings aren’t real. Given time, everything will be just fine.
Denial is an interesting strategy and may work for a short time, but sooner or later friends and family members will begin to feel the impact of the warrior’s pain. Owning the trauma is the first step to managing it.
I can’t begin to count how many people who have never served in the military, have never had to sacrifice their physical and emotional lives, have never lived with a parent or sibling who is carrying the war’s trauma in every cell of his body says something like, “there is a silver lining in these wars”, “if we don’t fight them there, we will have to fight them here on American soil”.
It isn’t that these individuals are unkind or uncaring; they merely have not had the experience of combat that comes with a very high personal price tag. The ultimate “Golden Globe of Thoughtlessness”, however, are those who doubt that PTSD even exists, and that if it does, it can be easily treated or overcome with just a little effort and personal fortitude.
OK, I admit, I sound cynical. Perhaps what might appease me a bit is giving all of those “others” a chance to sacrifice a bit of what our veterans are enduring. Perhaps, if the families of those “others” would have to witness and battle the demons in their homes with their loved ones, maybe, just maybe, my irritation would subside a bit. Or, maybe, just maybe, one tour of duty is enough for any warrior.
What I cannot accept is that this current war is being fought by less than one percent of the American population and that one percent isn’t comprised of the well-off and well-to-do. As a country we are passively engaged in a practice that will come to haunt us.
Haunt us as a country; haunt us in our communities; and haunt us as moral beings. For sooner or later, as a nation we will have to face the consequences of our inequitable actions. The price will be expensive and ugly.
I wonder if our country’s leaders and the American people will be willing and able to cover the costs.

Tears of a Warrior


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2010 New Year’s Wishes

Posted: 06 Jan 2010 05:00 AM PST



by Janet J. Seahorn

It’s already time for a brand New Year

Filled with new hope, dreams and some cheer.

For many their prospects are filled with great joy

While others the forecast may seem a bit grim.

Perhaps we can change the Year 20 and 10

And make it a season for our world to mend.



A year of forgiving,

A year of great love,

One of abundance sent from above.

A year without conflict,

A year where wars end,

A time where the goodness of angels commend.



A year of good fortune,

A year without hate,

When lies and untruths and battles abate.

A year where one’s word

Can be totally trusted,

Where nothing is left but goodwill and justice.



A year without fear,

A year where we’ve learned

Those rainbows are just around the next turn.

A year where we find

That we are not lost,

That life must be lived no matter the cost.



A year that we take

One step at a time

Trusting to see and feel the sublime.

A very deep breath

And we’re on our way

To making each moment a true New Year’s Day.





May your coming year be filled with love,

safe-keeping and prosperity.

Return to Vietnam

The drive from Halong Bay inland to Hanoi takes over three hours. I feel unsettled and somewhat apprehensive about making the trip into the communist capital city of Vietnam.

Yes, I know the war is over, but that alone doesn’t remove the lingering memories of Ho Chi Minh’s North Vietnamese Army (NVA) assaulting the South by the thousands. Since the French Army’s loss at the battle of Dien Bien Phu, Uncle Ho was determined to overrun South Vietnam and spread communism throughout the entire country. Saigon was the ultimate target, but thousands of battles would occur before that objective was met.

We have named that difficult and tragic time in American history the Vietnam War. The Vietnamese call it the American War - which allows them to distinguish that ten-year period from all the other wars - the war against the Chinese, the French, Japan during WWII, and then again the French, and finally against America. JFK had asked a nation “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”

In 1968, I found myself, along with thousands of other American youth answering that calling - we were patriotic - proud to serve our country. I was a young army officer at 21, older than most. How soon we would all age beyond our years.

Somehow, driving into Hanoi all these years later seemed unpatriotic. The country has been opened to tourism, albeit with a multitude of restrictions associated with communist rule. We visited Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum where his body has been immortalized for all to see since his death in 1969. Next we visited the Hoa Lo prison, “Hanoi Hilton”, where several hundred American pilots were tortured and held captive, including John McCain.

The photos in the Hanoi Hilton showed prisoners in various scenes “enjoying” their captivity. The propaganda was obvious to those of us who understood the realism of war, but to some of the more gullible tourists, the fabricated “upscale” conditions of the prison were impressive.

I was relieved and glad to leave the suffocating environment of Hanoi.

Later in the week, we moved southward into Danang and Hue, that portion of Vietnam below the DMZ more familiar to Americans - especially for those who served during the war. The battles of Khe Sanh, the Rockpile, Hue, and Operation Rolling Thunder are all too familiar. Although I was stationed further southwest along the South Vietnam / Cambodia Border, I had flown into the airfield at Danang. The sea of military vehicles and personnel are long gone, but the area looked much the same as I remembered it. Considerable development has occurred south of Danang and adjacent to China Beach, but much of the city appeared relatively unchanged from decades prior. The ridge line to the west of Danang, toward Dai La Pass, still was draped in clouds and looked as ominous as ever. And yes, the Viet Cong where still there, only today everyone is under communist rule so we no longer have to anguish over the dilemma of friend or foe.

Two days later, we arrived in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) although most of us still call it Saigon as do the residents of Vietnam. We drove past the Tan Son Nhut airport and moved into the city proper. Following a tour of Saigon and visiting the war museum, which featured a U.S. Army Uh-1 helicopter, an F-5 Air force fighter, a Sky hawk, and an army tank - all displaying a large emblem of the communist red star painted over the U.S. insignia.

That was enough tourist attraction for me…

Jan and I walked past the noted Continental Hotel and stopped at the Rex for an afternoon break.

The rooftop view from the outdoor lounge of the Rex Hotel allowed a panoramic glimpse of the city. We ordered a Saigon Sling and a Manhattan which somehow seemed appropriate. As I mellow-out and reflect on the war, I couldn’t help but remember all who had made the supreme sacrifice and had not returned home. As if it was yesterday, I remember my friend Bill McAtee from Hanna. We had been in contact and planned to meet in Lai Khe, my division base camp, in early December. The reunion never happened. Within three days of our meeting, I was wounded in action and Bill was killed. And of course there were many others. I also reflect on my high school and college classmates whose lives would forever be changed by the war. There was Bob Nichols, George Patton, Bill Blom, Steve Hamann, Dick Butler, John DiCiacco, Eric Snoeberger, Mike MacDonald, Bill Bellamy, and the list goes on…

Today, on my birthday atop the Rex Hotel in downtown Saigon, I remember and celebrate their service to our country. Somehow I would like to think we made a difference.

Veteran’s Day

Battered & Tattered, Yet, How Proudly It Waves!

Veteran’s Day, November 11, 2009

Following is a guest post from some dear friends. Thanks to all veterans on this day and every day! Lest we forget, “Freedom Isn’t Free”

Post by Larry & Nancy Thoney:

While traveling across the Navajo Reservation in the Monument Valley in AZ last winter, we saw an American flag flying in spite of what had obviously been some very hard times. It was symbolic and we had to have that picture!

The ragged, tattered old flag reminds us of our country and the fact that it has also been through some trials and tribulations, but never-the-less our life style and independence have prevailed. The reason our flag has continued to fly proudly, in spite of all, is largely because of the sacrifices of Veterans such as yourself.

Thanks so much for your contributions. We Americans are forever grateful!

Happy, Healthy Trails to you and yours.

Two Appreciative Americans,

Larry and Nancy Thoney

PTSD Suffering & Control

Tears of a Warrior


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PTSD Suffering & Control

Posted: 20 Oct 2009 10:07 AM PDT

By Janet J. Seahorn


This may be one of the most important blogs that I have written. Important because we are quickly becoming a people who, due to the recent attention on Post Traumatic Stress, are beginning to lump into the same basket all vets who return from conflict challenged by PTSD.

This is a major dilemma. It is vital that we as a nation, as communities, and as families start to have a more accurate description of the effects of combat trauma. Important because without correct information, we cannot help to mend the minds, hearts, and souls of those who suffer.

For that reason, solid facts through research on PTSD lead to better care. The problem, however, occurs when the media focuses only on those individuals who behave in extreme ways. Ways that make news casts, papers, and internet reading more exciting.

For the vast majority of veterans who return from combat tormented by the memories of war, the battle is within and remains there, silently distressing the individual.

But here is what is key to remember; the majority of vets are not personally or professional “out of control”. In fact, they spend a tremendous amount of time and energy trying to remain in control. For many, the periods of distress are when the person is alone, safe within the confines of house and home, or experiencing a severe physical or family crisis.

For most, the only people who see the anxiety and panic are not the outside world, but rather those within the vet’s inner- most circles: spouses, children, siblings, parents, and very close friends.

There are already many young (and some older vets) who are refusing to acknowledge they have a problem, or seek medical interventions even when they realize they need it. And why would they? Fearing they will be labeled and thrown into that “media basket” of dysfunction, they prefer to maintain a mask of silence. This isn’t acceptable, nor is it effective in mending the situation.

Yes, PTSD is a reality for many in our world, not just combat vets. For sure, it is a challenge like any “reordering” of the mind and body. Yet, most individuals move forward to live productive, successful lives. And if the individual gets appropriate medical and professional attention, that life and those who are closest to him/her, the living becomes immensely easier.

So let’s begin to write and tell stories of these quiet, courageous men and women. Stories of heroes and heroines who survive and manage to prosper in many areas of their lives; appreciating the fact that to be a hero requires an extraordinary act of bravery within an ordinary human spirit.