As I tried to decipher their message, I am frozen in place, a blend of paralysis of analysis and raw fear. Ear drum shattering, elevated decibels explosions far and near. Pardon me whilst I cope with the stress of times gone by. It's been forty years since I treaded that red muddy terrain of South East Asia (South Vietnam).
No more drugs, no more alcohol, just headaches, tears, anger, sleepless nights, and the pain of having walked with death. I suffer from P.T.S.D. ( Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) formerly known as Combat Fatigue/Shell Shock. I am not part of an Elite Team of Combat Veterans, just one of millions who have P.T.S.D.
These are the basic criteria of P.T.S.D. that afflicts us all.