Tom Glenn's Blog, page 126

Presentation on PTSI (2)

Continuing my post of several days ago:

In my attempts to cope with Post-Traumatic Stress Injury (PTSI), I even wrote a novel on the subject. The Trion Syndrome is the story of a Vietnam vet and his struggle to come to terms with his memories. The book, in effect, is my own story told as fiction.

Over time, I came to realize that I could help others by speaking publicly about PTSI. I could inform people that PTSI is not a sign of cowardice or weakness. Most important, I could let my brothers in arms know that they are not alone. I could encourage them to take pride in their service, an important way to counter PTSI.

The prospect was daunting. I’ve been giving presentations on my writing and my experiences in Vietnam for many years. But this was different. Now I’d be talking about a deeply personal and private matter, something I instinctively find embarrassing. It feels like putting my dirty laundry on display.

Then, a few weeks ago, United States Post Office brought out a postal stamp with the words “Healing PTSD” above a picture of a plant opening its leaves. The issue was now so public that the U.S. government was commemorating it with a stamp.

I understood that for my own good, I had to overcome my fear and speak out. It would be another way to vent my anxieties. Most important, it could help others.

So I have prepared a presentation with slides on PTSI. I’m already scheduled to do it twice in the next two months. I’ll have to practice it so that I can keep my emotions I check while I talk. That will take some doing.

As I grow older, it becomes more and more apparent to me that my purpose in life is to help others. I now have found one more way to do that, through speaking publicly of my own affliction.

Dialects of Vietnamese

During my thirteen years of wandering around in Vietnam, I encountered many different versions of the Vietnamese language. The hardest to understand was that spoken by foreigners (mostly the French and Australians) and by the Montagnards, members of the mountain tribes who were not Vietnamese and whose native language was unrelated to Vietnamese. But I also had considerable trouble with the dialects of ethnic Vietnamese.

The three principal dialects were the northern, central, and southern. The preferred dialect was the northern. It was considered the most prestigious. Like the New England dialect of American English, the northern dialect of Vietnamese was language of the elite and well-educated. Its pronunciation distinguished carefully the six tones and many variations in vowels and consonants indicated by diacritical marks in the written language. And because all my Vietnamese teachers were well educated, it was the dialect I learned.

The southern dialect, like southern English in the United States, was spoken more slowly and blurred distinctive sounds. Two of the six tones were pronounced the same way (which led to southerners sometimes mixing up the tone symbols when writing), and many of the vowels were pronounced in a way that, to my ear, made them indistinguishable. As a result, I had far more trouble understanding southerners.

I can’t say much about the central dialect. I encountered it rarely, and people from central Vietnam almost always switched to the northern (or occasionally the southern) dialect when speaking to those not from the central part of the country. I did occasionally encounter a pure central dialect. I mostly couldn’t understand it. To me it sounded like the southern dialect spoken by someone with a mouth full of food.

Since my return to the U.S. in 1975, I have sometimes run into Vietnamese and have spoken to them in their language. Nearly all of them used the northern dialect with me, even though it was sometimes obvious to me from their pronunciation that they were not native northerners. They were always astonished that an American could speak Vietnamese.

All my languages (I have spoken seven) are fading. Lack of opportunity to practice means that the memory weakens. Vietnamese was far and away my best language—I spoke it constantly for thirteen years—but now it, too, is withering. That’s the way it is with languages. Guess I’d better get used to it.

Presentation on PTSI

As regular readers of this blog are aware, I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Injury (PTSI). The malady resulted from my years in combat in Vietnam and the unspeakable experiences I went through during the fall of Saigon. For years, I was subject to the most common symptoms—nightmares, panic attacks, flashbacks, and irrational rages. The memories will never fade—they’re indelibly ingrained in my soul—but I have found ways to come to terms with them. I am able to live a normal life.

I am among those who call the disease Post-Traumatic Stress Injury rather than Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) to emphasize that it is the result of an externally inflicted wound to the psyche, not the mind internally going awry. The number of us using that nomenclature is growing.

I realized early on that to cope with PTSI, I had to bring the unbearable memories into my conscious mind and face them. I had to learn to control my emotions. To force myself to confront those memories, I wrote down what happened on the battlefield and during the final days of Vietnam. That gave me the raw material I used to write my four novels and 17 short stories, all now published.

I always assumed, like all sufferers of PTSI, that I was unique and alone. My inability to handle my memories was a weakness and a symptom of cowardice. After all, other men went through what I experienced and came out fine. I was at fault. The shame that resulted, combined with the shame for having participated in the killing of others, is profound enough to cause some veterans to take their own lives.

Then, half a dozen years ago, I stumbled across articles on PTSI. I discovered that the malady affected many men who had experienced combat. I eventually decided that no one who has lived through fighting on the battlefield is completely untainted. I was severely affected, but all of us were hurt psychically, some worse than others. Combat inflicts a wound to the soul.

I learned that each sufferer of PTSI imagines that he is the odd ball, the guy that, unlike his buddies, was deeply affected by combat. And I realized that we afflicted could help one another by talking to each other about our memories. I began to reach out to other veterans. I wrote of PTSI and blogged about it.

More tomorrow.

New Review

My review of Gala’s The Black Cathedral has just been published. You can read it at http://www.washingtonindependentreviewofbooks.com/bookreview/the-black-cathedral-a-novel   Comments welcome.

The Death Penalty (2)

Beyond expense and the lack of deterrence, the death penalty is meted out unfairly. According to the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), “The death penalty system in the US is applied in an unfair and unjust manner against people, largely dependent on how much money they have, the skill of their attorneys, race of the victim and where the crime took place.  People of color are far more likely to be executed than white people, especially if the victim is white.”

But far and away the strongest argument for elimination of the death penalty is that it is unconstitutional and immoral. The ACLU states the case: “The American Civil Liberties Union believes the death penalty inherently violates the constitutional ban against cruel and unusual punishment and the guarantees of due process of law and of equal protection under the law. Furthermore, we believe that the state should not give itself the right to kill human beings – especially when it kills with premeditation and ceremony, in the name of the law or in the name of its people, and when it does so in an arbitrary and discriminatory fashion.”

In sum, capital punishment does not discourage murderers. It is expensive, unfair, and an unacceptable denial of civil liberties, and it is inconsistent with the fundamental values of our democratic system. The United States is the only western country to still use the death penalty. The United Nations General Assembly has adopted, in 2007, 2008, 2010, 2012 and 2014, resolutions calling for a global moratorium on executions, with a view to eventual abolition. Yet we maintain the death penalty.

It is long since time we banned capital punishment.

The Death Penalty

On July 25, 2019, Attorney General William Barr, presumably with the agreement of and perhaps on orders from President Trump, reinstated the death penalty for federal crimes after 16 years of no executions. The federal government also scheduled the execution of five death row inmates. But the Supreme Court upheld a stay on these executions, and none have occurred to date.

The question before us, as Americans, is do we wish to execute? My answer is no for the following reasons:

Research evidence makes it clear that capital punishment does not deter murderers. According to Amnesty International, “Scientists agree, by an overwhelming majority, that the death penalty has no deterrent effect.  .  .  .  States without the death penalty continue to have significantly lower murder rates than those that retain capital punishment.”

Besides, it costs far more to inflict the death penalty than incarceration for life does. The Death Penalty Information Center argues that “the average cost of a case without capital punishment involved is $740,000. For cases where the death penalty is sought by prosecutors, the average cost off the case is $1.26 million. In addition to the prosecution expenses, the cost of housing a prisoner on death row is $90,000 more per year, on average, then a prisoner in the general population. With the average length of time on death row at 15 years in the United States, housing a prisoner for execution may cost more than $1 million more than housing a prisoner for a life sentence.”

More tomorrow.

The Name “Vietnam”

Some time ago in this blog, I talked about the name “Vietnam,” where it came from, and its meaning. A question from a friend brought the subject up again. It’s worth reviewing.

Centuries ago in southern China there lived a non-Chinese tribe who refused to submit to Chinese rule. The Chinese called them the yuèh nán  (越 南). Yuèh means to cross over, exceed, or transcend. It implies disobeying the rules. Nán means “south.” So one way to translate yuèh nán is “the troublemakers in the south.”

That tribe eventually moved south into what is now called Vietnam. They continued to be at war with the Chinese—and later with the French, Japanese, and Americans—but were never permanently subjugated. They established their own kingdom which had various names. One derived from the Chinese an nán (安 南), that is, “peace in the south,” was An Nam. Over time, the tribe accepted the earlier name the Chinese had given them, yuèh nán. In Vietnamese, that’s Việt Nam.

Most Vietnamese I have known were unaware of the origin of the name “Vietnam.” The educated who knew the etymology of the name tended to prefer a translation along the lines of “those who crossed over to the south.” They point out that the tribe in question did indeed go south out of China into what is now Vietnam. The problem with their argument is that the Chinese were apparently calling them the yuèh nán long before they moved south out of China.

No matter which translation is accepted, the name “Vietnam” (yuèh nán) strongly suggests an independent bunch not about to be cowed by another culture. The name fits the Vietnamese I have known, strong and self-reliant and not willing to bow down to a foreign power. We Americans learned their determination the hard way during the Vietnam war, which, ironically, the Vietnamese call the American war.

Sandworm

I mentioned during a recent post that I had reviewed Andy Greenberg’s Sandworm. You can read the review at http://www.washingtonindependentreviewofbooks.com/bookreview/sandworm-a-new-era-of-cyberwar-and-the-hunt-for-the-kremlins-most-dangerous-hackers

The book shocked me. Its subject is cyberwar. Greenberg puts the matter succinctly: “This is what cyberwar looks like: an invisible force capable of striking out from an unknown origin to sabotage, on a massive scale, the technologies that underpin civilization.”

Cyberwar is the deliberate disruption of computers. It can close down virtually every functioning activity in the targeted nation, and it can destroy equipment. A good example is Stuxnet, the 2010 attack on Iranian computers controlling uranium enrichment. It destroyed 984 centrifuges and stopped Iran’s nuclear research.

“Sandworm” is the name of a Russian organization whose mission is the disruption of other nation’s computer-controlled operations. Unfortunately, President Trump denies Russia’s malfeasance. That encourages Russia to attack at will. The U.S. Cyber Command, the agency responsible for both defense against cyber attacks and offensive actions against other nations, has so far—apparently—staved off major effective attacks. We don’t know because all the work of the command is classified.

With Trump’s fondness for Vladimir Putin and refusal to blame Russia for offensive actions (including Sandworm’s hacking of the Democratic National Committee computers in 2016), the threat is very real.

American Addiction to Obesity

When I traverse through public places, I always see so many people who are fat. They’re everywhere—in stores, on the street, in restaurants. And I don’t mean just overweight. Almost everyone I know is overweight. I mean obese, corpulently gross.

So I checked sources on American obesity. I learned that the estimate of Americans who are obese ranges from 36 to 40 percent, according to several sources including the National Center for Health Statistics at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. An astonishing number. Obesity is considered a chronic disease by many organizations including The American Medical Association and the National Institutes of Health. It is a national epidemic according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Why are the majority of Americans overweight or obese? None of the sources I consulted could offer me an explanation. My guess is that one reason is that we have become indolent. We spend our leisure time in passive pursuits—watching television, searching the internet—rather than physically active ones, e.g., walking, running, and sports.

And obesity is unquestionably unhealthy. It contributes to a variety of illness including heart disease.

What is the solution to our national dilemma? I don’t have an answer. But I believe that as a nation we must seek a resolution, the sooner the better. We are not living as long as we used to. According to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Center for Health Statistics, a baby born in 2017 is expected to live to be 78.6 years old, which is down from 78.7 the year before. Obesity is not listed among the causes of our shortened life expectancy, but it surely must be a contributing factor.

We can’t expect the current administration or Congress to initiate movement toward a healthier nation, but maybe after the 2020 election things will change. I fervently hope so.

The New Year

I didn’t celebrate much as I rung in the new year—dinner with a friend on New Year’s Eve and champagne on New Year’s Day. But I have much to look forward to in 2020.

I’ll have two new books published. The first, in March, will be Secretocracy, a novel about an intelligence staffer who refuses to fund an illegal Trump administration operation and is severely punished for his honesty. Then, in July, comes my Coming to Terms. It’s a collection of short stories about people trying to resolve the challenges life confronts them with.

In May, I’ll be at the Book Expo 2020 at the Jacob Javits Center in New York to autograph books. Throughout the year, I’ll be doing presentations on the fall of Saigon, the 1967 battle of Dak To, and Post-Traumatic Stress Injury which I suffer from. And I’ll be doing readings from my new books.

Most important, I’ll be writing. I’m working on two novels, one about a couple in their eighties having a passionate affair and the other set during the battle of Dak To. Unless I’m more efficient than I’ve been in the past, I won’t finish either one, but I should have working drafts before the year ends.

And I’ll finish tying up all the loose ends on projects for my new house. That will free me to spend more time writing.

This blog will, of course, continue. Who knows what I’ll write about here? I’m open to suggestions from you, my readers.

April 29, 2020 will be the forty-fifth anniversary of the fall of Saigon, the subject of so much of my writing and thinking. I’m sure the date will spark more thoughts from me.

So 2020 will be a very full year for me. I look forward to it.