Memorial Day For Combat Veterans

Memorial Day Remembrances

 

I watched the light fade out of SGT Devereaux’s eyes.* A strikingly handsome soldier with shaved head and colorful tattoos, he’d been joking around about an incident the previous day where he’d hit the ground after a car backfired nearby — the kind of strained ‘funny’ story combat veterans sometimes tell about their PTSD reactions. He’d ended the story with a big laugh, head thrown back and eyes sparkling. Then he began to speak about the nineteen year old soldier who hadn’t returned from a mission seven years ago, a young guy he’d taken under his wing and steadied when they deployed into the wild chaos of Iraq. “His truck got blown out from under him. I’ve never been able to make sense of anything after that,” Devereaux told me, his eyes now flat.
On Memorial Day, as we remember service men and women who have given their lives in combat, we should also extend our compassion to those who stood next to the ones who died. We have grave markers and memorial services for those who never returned, but the combat brothers and sisters, the buddies, the friends who fought beside them carry less visible markers, a wound to their souls that is unseen, but tender and lasting.

I’d been a psychotherapist in private practice for nearly thirty years when I took a job counseling troops returning from combat in Iraq or Afghanistan. I was assigned to several different bases during my two and half years in that role, speaking with thousands of combat veterans and their spouses. As we talked about the challenges of re-entry, I often found us sliding into hushed, halting conversations about the moment they lost their friend. No hardened warriors in those conversations; their faces would drop in sorrow, their sadness raw and abiding.

They coped in a variety of ways. Some stayed angry many years after the friend died; their bitterness could suddenly lash out at anyone who revived that hurt. Some harbored such deep grief, they couldn’t bring themselves to say their buddy’s name. Others embraced rituals for their dead comrades: toasting them before taking a drink; keeping a worn photo tucked behind the credit cards in their wallet; paying somber tribute each time the date of that fateful firefight, IED explosion, or sniper hit rolled around.  Or some, like Devereaux, seemed to go dead inside, sealing off the pain in a way that could keep them distant from friends, partners, and other service men and women.

I saw a pristine example of quiet grief mixed with profound respect when I watched a staff sergeant preparing his uniform to escort a buddy’s body back home. His white-gloved hands moved slowly, reverently as he measured and re-measured the position of each medal on the chest of his uniform until he knew each one was placed perfectly. “He was my soldier, ma’am,” he said quietly.

LCPL Davidson’s grief was more vivid. A muscled, compact Marine with grey eyes, he  turned away to compose himself when he recalled his combat buddy dropping away from him as they waded through a firefight in Afghanistan. His eyes brimmed with tears, and waves of pain crossed his face as he recalled the moment when he felt his friend’s body fall against his own, then drop to the ground.

Although war deaths might have diminished in recent years, every single loss affects those who served with the fallen – affects them for the rest of their lives. A Vietnam vet I spoke with was puzzled about a heavy fog of depression that hampered him for several days, until he remembered it was the anniversary of an airman-buddy’s death in the jungles of Vietnam. Even though he hadn’t consciously remembered the date, his psyche, fully oriented to the loss, had plunged him into grieving.

So this Memorial Day, remember the fallen, but remember as well that any time you’re talking to a combat veteran, you’re most likely speaking to someone who’s lost a friend (maybe many friends), someone who is moving through life with a burden you don’t necessarily see. You don’t need to bring it up or press the veteran to tell the story – but simply by knowing the cost of combat deaths to those who came home, you can share a bit of the weight. We all can.

 

*Author’s note: all names, ranks and physical descriptions have been changed to protect privacy.

---

Previous comments:

danny johnson says:
May 28, 2014 at 5:18 pm
Being a Vietnam combat veteran, I don’t know of anybody who has more of a grasp of transferring what she has seen in her wonderful work with soldiers returning from combat, the ones who wait for them, and understanding how to relate the pain they all cope with in so many different ways. Some years ago I was at a writer’s retreat and I happen to be wearing some old military tee shirt, when Elizabeth walked up to me and we began to talk–about her work, about what I went through upon my return from Vietnam, and how I was doing at the moment. It was like we’d know each other forever. She cares so much, she absorbs into your soul, digging it out with a kind and gentle hand, letting you know it’s okay to talk and she has been a sounding post for me ever since. I cannot wait to read her forthcoming book relating how she came to be involved with soldiers, how powerful the experience was for her, and the obstacles she had to overcome to break through to a group that typically trust no one outside their combat brothers. I think of many things on Memorial Day, of brothers lost, of the pain I carried for so many years, and I think how great it would have been to have somebody like Elizabeth available all those years ago.

Charlie Mills says:
May 23, 2014 at 8:27 pm Your picture of those returning enlightens me. How little I know of that world. May I be more aware of the depths of others.

---

Bob says:
May 23, 2014 at 8:51 pm  You’ve captured the pain of loss and the pain of surviving with great respect. May we acknowledge that freedom isn’t free, and that many of the visible and invisible wounds of battle challenge tens of thousands now and in generations to come.

---

Marlena says:
May 23, 2014 at 10:05 pm I’m so glad you are sharing these experiences with the world, and I also especially appreciate your comment at the end about how we can be mindful when speaking with a combat veteran.

---

Bob Day says:
June 13, 2014 at 12:37 am
Thank you Elizabeth for walking past my house and stopping to talk. It was so easy to talk with you that I didn’t want it to end. And thank you for the envelope dropped through my mail slot that contained an excerpt from The Honor Was Mine.
I have flown in combat, landed a jet on a pitching deck at night, and was a Commanding Officer. I have worked hard to hold my emotions inside, to show resolve and strength, to never stop analyzing or calculating or strategizing. It was how I was raised and how I have lived my life.
When I read “My Closet” I lost it. I choked with tears and cried hard. I was alone in the kitchen which was probably good. They say that as you get older, that your emotions come to the surface more quickly. I think that is true, but the crying very much surprised me.
As I reread your words, one word came to mind – Grace. You have taken especially difficult, personal turmoil and passed it to us with an understanding and with grace.
Thank you.

---

winnie says:
May 23, 2014 at 11:56 pm This made me cry for those lost and for those with so many losses.
This is the first time Memorial Day has had any meaning for me.
Thank you.

---

Daphne says:
May 24, 2014 at 12:05 am Beautifully evocative, as your writing always is.

---

lynn wilson says:
May 24, 2014 at 10:55 am  You’ve beautifully captured an important perspective on Memorial Day. Thanks for sharing. Can’t wait to read your book!

---

Sara Pearson says:
May 24, 2014 at 1:51 pm Thank you for this- so important and well communicated. It’s true – how many of
us think of this when we see a soldier? A very huge lesson- thank you.

---

Luther Rudolph says:
May 24, 2014 at 6:19 pm  This is a perspective on war and the military that everyone – on the left or the right – ought to read. An important and well done portrait.

---

Ann Quinn says:
May 24, 2014 at 9:06 pmSuch a moving piece of writing, Elizabeth, full of compassion. I’m so glad to have met you, Best Wishes, Ann

---

Lynne says:
May 25, 2014 at 3:27 am May we never forget our combat heroes suffering and painful experiences of war, and always be conscience of their attempt to find normalcy and meaning in their new and altered life at home. Thank you Elizabeth.

---

Michael says:
May 25, 2014 at 12:15 pm  Thank you for highlighting the very personal nature of these veterans pain. It’s something all of us who have not served need to understand. Good luck with your new site.

---

Karen says:
May 25, 2014 at 12:51 pm Thank you for sharing your perspective. I wish that more Americans realize what a tremendous sacrifice our military members and their families make for US. Will be sharing your thoughts with others, my friend!

---

LuAnn Keener-Mikenas, LCSW says:
May 26, 2014 at 12:06 am Just beautiful, Elizabeth! Clear and ringing. The whole site is a treasure. So glad it’s out there now. All best to you as always!

---

Paul says:
May 26, 2014 at 8:02 pm
​Your voice is needed and welcome in an arena where too often pain and sorrow and sadness are kept under wraps and not drawn out and acknowledged and felt. Thanks, Elizabeth, for your courage and compassion in expressing and bringing into reality these instances of raw emotion.

---

dagmar says:
May 26, 2014 at 8:28 pm 
this is very moving and full of compassion. it helps us to see what these men and women are going through. i had no idea.
everyone should read this. in all this suffering there is so much love on a very deep level. thank you dear elizabeth, for sharing your experiences!

---

maggie morton says:
May 26, 2014 at 10:49 pm  
​Beautifully and movingly stated. How important it is to remember the huge scope of people who are touched by war. Thanks for posting.

---

Ellen Prentiss Campbell says:
May 26, 2014 at 11:16 pm 
What a timely and moving piece, Elizabeth. Thank you. Ellen

---

Sandy says:
May 27, 2014 at 12:06 am  
Thank you, Elizabeth, for your poignant reminder to honor those who have returned home from war carrying a heavy burden of loss. I am eager to see the book!

---

Patti Cavender says:
May 27, 2014 at 12:02 pm 
Thank you Elizabeth. It is so important that we are reminded of what our combat veterans are experiencing.

---

NancePettit says:
May 28, 2014 at 11:47 am  
Thanks for expanding my awareness of the invisible web of pain left by combat.

---

Scott Luetgenau says:
May 28, 2014 at 12:18 pm 
​A sobering look at the true cost of war. Thanks for this, Elizabeth. Your writing style is perfectly respectful of the subject and displays the type of empathy necessary in truly welcoming these men and women back with open arms.

---

Julie says:
May 28, 2014 at 2:27 pm  
Thank you, I will slow down, leave some assumptions aside and I will look at veterans a little differently.

---

Toni says:
May 28, 2014 at 4:32 pm  
Elizabeth,
One sees many tributes on Memorial Day but you capture the depth of our soldiers in a unique and rare way through their stories and your writing. My father was a military man and my brother was a Marine in Vietnam.I saw my brother’s pain in your tribute.
I call my brother on Memorial Day so he knows that I never forget also.

---

Anna says:
May 29, 2014 at 2:18 pm
This is very moving, Elizabeth. Definitely made me think about Memorial Day in a new way that I will carry forward into future years as well. 
As someone whose only real connection to the military was via my grandfathers who served in WWII, but never spoke about it, your writing offers me some insight into what they must have experienced.

---

Cathy and Tom Riley says:
June 2, 2014 at 2:03 pm What a touching entry! It really makes this Memorial Day much more meaningful for me. Your writing really brought me right in to the heart of this man’s struggle, and to these situations that have changed so many service people forever.
I feel so lucky to have read this powerful story, as it has sensitized me in a way that I’d never have expected. Something shifted because of your sensitivity and your writing that has made me so much more compassionate and sympathetic to these service men and women than ever before.
Thank you Elizabeth.

---

steve says:
June 9, 2014 at 4:56 pm
​I can’t wait for Elizabeth’s book to come out. Although I find that her writing brings me to tears which isn’t something I really enjoy. But how can the heart not overflow when she captures emotions so powerfully and with such honesty. Although it takes skill to do that, the real skill is that there is no sense of literary artificiality about her writing, rather it’s as if you’re there sharing the experience with the vets directly.

---

Linda Hansen says:
June 12, 2014 at 2:54 pm Elizabeth, I wept reading this message. My father was one of those men who stood by as his fellow heroes died some in his arms. I only knew my dad after the effects of these events but he often shared the scars of this war with me. Thank you for your beautiful work in the world
I hope to see you soon
Much Love
Linda

---

Hettie says:
July 14, 2014 at 10:17 pm
Thank you so much Elizabeth for making me aware of this blog. This post has made me aware of Memorial Day in a way I’ve never thought of it, and has made me aware of what every past or present service person may be carrying. I hope I will be more compassionate and appreciative because of you.