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Tue Jun 27, 2017, 10:31 AM

At the pub with two fine veterans

Walked down pub with my future son in law I'm just charged up. one those days , off two days wife is traveling son is at home with mother in law. Son and friends walking to community pool at 10am , probably grill some burgers and dogs for the boys dinner. Sitting here my daughter fiancÚ is shooting pool with his friend. As former infantry troop my time was all peace 84 to 87 and I consider myself lucky. my son in law was 19D scout Iraq and Afghanistan he lost a leg fine person. His friend we are hanging with shooting straight pool regulation tables is in wheelchair paralyzed from Iraq, these boys I call em boys I knew them when they were boys there men but I remember them as young kids. They are not even thirty yet but have lived a lifetime. They started me thinking of the poem was it Kipling the British soldier on plains Afghanistan, they are two fine men that w bush or Cheney would not even be able to fill their canteens. I guess what I'm getting around trying say I hope our son or his generation never has to experience these crusades. Rule is these two fine Americans I'm with pay for no drinks ever with me even though they make fun of my heritage as airborne infantry I can handle them.

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Reply At the pub with two fine veterans (Original post)
TEB Jun 2017 OP
Victor_c3 Jun 2017 #1

Response to TEB (Original post)

Tue Jun 27, 2017, 09:44 PM

1. A lot of good guys have been broken by those wars for no reason

I don't have any friends outside of the guys I hang with at the VA. Frankly, I don't want any non-vet friends.

People who never served have no idea about anything. I don't get them and they don't understand me. I struggle with that with my family, my neighbors, and the other parents I run into when I'm carting my kids around to school and whatnot.

I'm a regular at my local VA. I'm in a substance abuse program (I have a bad habit of drinking too much) and I attend several PTSD groups as well. I ran into a buddy from one of my groups a few days ago. He was having a really rough time, got himself hospitalized, then somehow got them to discharge him. I gave the guy a ride to his place about an hour away as he was trying to avoid getting locked up in a psych ward. It was the best I felt in a long time. Having another guy next to me who I could implicitly trust to the end of the world was a nice change. We only stopped to get some cigarettes and a money order for his landlord, but I didn't feel nearly as naked and alone with another crazy combat-vet like myself by my side. I felt safe in a way I haven't felt since I was in the army.

Helping the guy escape the psych ward might not be the best thing I could have done by most people's standards, but it was what that guy needed at the time. As a guy who struggles like he does with substance use and reckless PTSD driven behavior, I did what I hope another person would do for me in my time of need.

Honestly, the messed up sort of broken vets are my sort of guys. They have been through the worst, they struggle with trying to live in the "civilized" world, and we get each other.

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