Veterans and PTSD

This is the 11th day of the 11th month and, in the United States, we call this day Veterans Day.  In other countries, it is called Remembrance Day.

I've written a number of posts about Veterans Day over the years.  Here are some of them:

The 11th Hour of the 11th Day.

The War that Didn't End Anything 

And, for my Canadian readers:

In Those Very Halls

Repeating a previous post, though, doesn't seem to do the job this year.  Afghanistan war veterans, especially, have found this year especially challenging.  I used to work with two women whose sons went off to that war, and came back....changed.

There is also my link above titled "The 11th Hour of the 11th Day", about the father of a man my spouse (a non-combat vet) served with in the military and his/his father's PTSD burden.

In their honor, I want to link to a special report on TV the other night on a PTSD boot camp which has helped those who go through the program.

It's only been in recent years that the military has come to address PTSD more openly.  Until recent years, a soldier just had to "suck it up", as the saying goes.

War is something you truly can't understand unless you've been through it, either as a civilian, or a soldier.  I am fortunate enough not to be in either category. 

I want to end this post with one of the several poems I really love, one that may be special to my Canadian readers, who call today Remembrance Day.  Let us remember all those touched by wars. 

In Flanders Fields by John McCrae
    In Flanders Fields, the poppies grow
         Between the crosses, row on row,
       That mark our place; and in the sky
       The larks, still bravely singing, fly
    Scarce heard amid the guns below.

    We are the dead. Short days ago
    We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
       Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
                              In Flanders fields.

    Take up our quarrel with the foe:
    To you from failing hands we throw
       The torch; be yours to hold it high.
       If ye break faith with us who die
    We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
                                In Flanders fields. 

Leonard Cohen recites the poem here.  

The poet, who fought in World War I, did not survive the war.

Will we ever have peace?