You did not desert me my brothers in arms, for teachervet
Mon Oct 23, 2006 at 09:48:31 AM PDT
teachervet's diary the other day got me going again on the reason why it is so important to have vets witnessing their experiences. He mentions he has been active with Iraq Veterans Against the War and Veterans For Peace. These two organizations are perhaps the most under reported on anti-war groups out there. Here on dKos we see and hear about them a lot, however in the MSM, they seem to be non-existent. You might see a picture now and then mixed in with others at a demonstration of a VFP or IVAW flag or member, but nothing substantial.
Here in Portland, Oregon, whenever we send out a press release announcing one of our actions or events, it seems to go in the round file. Very seldom does the media show up.
I bring this up because teachervet writes,
Throughout these months, I have been speaking about the war, about profiteering, about issues connected to returning veterans, and about the brutalization of Iraq. I've become active with Iraq Veterans Against the War and Veterans For Peace. Speaking at meetings and going to actions hasn't been easy; I pay an emotional price every time.
I know what price he pays as I see it every time one of my fellow VFP members or I bear witness. And yet it is part of the healing process, part of the truth and reconciliation process. VFP has been a Godsend for so many vets as it provides them with a comfort zone, a padded room so to speak where they cannot hurt themselves because the other vets will catch them when they start to fall into that black hole of nightmares.
Getting back to the media lack of interest in VFP and IVAW, the question is; is the emotional price we pay worth it? If our witnessing is not spread farther than the immediate audience, what good is it to open up our wounded Soldiers Heart?
My answer is yes, the price is worth it. Why? On a purely personal level, we must exorcise the demons by getting them out in open where we can enlist our fellow brothers and sisters in arms in conquering them. Many of us have gone through it and know the word and actions to take in overcoming the symptoms of this debilitating condition.
I had another diary with the same title last year.
Excerpt:
Warriors in Crawford
by APRIL FITZSIMMONS
CRAWFORD, TEXAS -- "I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,"
By the time we arrived on Saturday, the camp was in full swing and counter-protesters were showing up by the truckload. Armed with American flags and "Cut and run traitors" signs and many "Casey died for me" banners. Gathered in Camp Casey were veterans and activists from across the country. Peace prevailed through early afternoon under the hot Texas sun and sweltering humidity until about 3 p.m. The counter-demonstrators moved closer, shouting "Freedom isn't free." The Texas cops stood 30 strong and the folks at Camp Casey stood relatively silent.
I watched through Woody's binoculars as a police helicopter circled the camp. As the chopper drew closer and closer to the ground, storm clouds gathered. The shouting increased now on both sides and a Vietnam vet kept insisting, "You don't know. You haven't been there. You just don't know." He stood chest to chest with the "Freedom isn't free" guy, each man clinging to his beliefs.
At the height of the confrontation, the Vietnam vet looked to the sky and his face contorted into horror. He saw the chopper and suddenly it wasn't Crawford, Texas. It was Vietnam. He collapsed in a heap and wept uncontrollably. Five Vietnam vets rushed to his side and carried him under a tent. They shielded him from view, putting their bodies between the sobbing man and the media.
<snip>
And so I watched this group of men as they spoke to him gently in the language of war and peace. They hugged him and brought a warm washcloth to his forehead. They told him jokes. They gave him ice and water. They never looked away, not once.
The man wept for almost an hour. One vet, Tim Origer, a former Marine, leaned into his grieving buddy and wiped his brow. As Tim pulled away to dip the cloth again into the bucket, his hand brushed away his pant leg and I saw his prosthetic leg. A gray mechanical knee and a stiff piece of metal where his right calf used to be. Tim lost his leg to an artillery round on March 15, 1968, during the Tet offensive. He was 19.
The man on the other side of Tim was David Cline, president of Veterans For Peace. This was the anti-war statue that you'll never see in Washington. Banded together with the knowledge that they had been duped by their government, these men now needed to heal one other.
What was not mentioned in this diary was the name of the vet they all helped. It turns out it was one of my VFP Chapter 72 members, Mike H. Mike was a medic in Vietnam 1970-71 and is one of the most outspoken members we have. Never afraid to get in the face of a flag waving warmonger and give them truth. He is also a photographer whose picture of a Medivac Huey with WHY painted on the nose is one of my sigs (ecept here). He also coined the phrase I Remember Another Quagmire (at least as far as I know). He doesn't care if the world knows of his PTSD meltdown in Crawford, in fact he believes it is just part of his bearing witness.
If the media doesn't cover us, it still counts. We might just reach one more vet, one more family member, one more potential recruit, if the immediate audience spreads the word. The current President of my chapter is a member becasue I stopped and talked to him back in 2003 when he was standing with a group of protesters just after the war started. One on one recruitment. He has recruited more members, the ripple effect. In 2003 we had 16 members, we now have over 100 and have been instrumental in forming two more chapters in Oregon.
So to teachervet I say, keep on bearing witness, we will be there to catch you if you fall.
These mist covered mountains
Are home now to me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be
Someday you will return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you'll no longer burn
To be Brothers in Arms
Though these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I've watched all your suffering
As the battles raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My Brothers in Arms
There's so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
Though we live in different ones
Now the Sun's gone to hell
And the Moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But its written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We're fools to make war
On our Brothers in Arms
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