“Sometimes Even To Live Is An Act Of Courage.” - Seneca

You are very welcome. There is also a very important addendum to the Path my life has taken that finally enabled my Heart to catch-up with my Intellect and snapped a great many aspects of my life into clarity. Again, I share this here for people who may not understand the load some folks carry, or that even those individuals may not appreciate what they are carrying.

My first tour began in May, 1969 and I was posted to PhuBai in the north of the country. Like most 18 y/o I was more High School kid than soldier and my childish behavior attested to this for one week after another. The abrupt change came on the morning of August 10, 1969, not all that far from us at a location called Mutters Ridge. As we monitored the radio traffic the only experience I can liken that to was one reported in a TV program of a 911 operator who endured hearing the screams of a woman as she was raped before the police to get to the scene. I believe the final count was 13 Marines dead and another 79 wounded from Echo and Hotel Company, 2nd of the Third Marines.

For the rest of my first tour, my return to the US, and all of the 18 monthes of my second tour I sought to take my responsibilities seriously and make a difference. What I found was that anyone who had not heard the anguished crys for assistance or the frustration as assistance failed even as it was attempted in the action seemed to approach their role in the war with the same novelty-seeking demeanor that I have demonstrated before.

When I came back to the States in February, 1972 I was unprepared for the theatre that had developed around the War. Much like today's political scene, attention had shifted away from the Humanity of the War leaving only the posturing of this or that ideologue. Fact was that anyone who actually FOUGHT in the war was an embarrassment and was marginalized. A huge portion of my suicidal ideation was driven by being marginalized or viewed in terms of how I could be turned to another's purpose. The resulting inability to produce growth and establish a place in Society struck to the very core of my Personhood and Manhood and I wanted "out" at any cost.

I was only recently able to identify the action that I had monitored that day. There is a website to the unit, and a roster can be found identifying all of the dead and wounded, the awards for Heroism that were bestowed. These were not Marines as much as they were people....who for a short time were in the role of Marines.

Having said all of that, I would ask anyone who is concerned with the one-a-day suicide rate of our Veterans to take the following first step.

Locate these veterans and put a face with a name.

You don't have to take long, slow showers with them or take-up light housekeeping. Just find the guys in your particular area and put a face with a name. Forget yer crappy parades and testimonials. Thats social grandstanding IMHO. Just make a place for these guys in the daily life of the community, thats all. The, sit back and watch the suicide rate drop. FWIW.

Best Wishes,

Bruce