One day in the VA Clinic waiting room

By Ron Rogers

Best Defense office
of veterans' affairs

There were four of us left in the VA Clinic waiting
room in Morehead City, North Carolina. There was a rather bulky fellow with a
huge shock of white hair and half-asleep, a woman waiting to drive a neighbor
home, a young veteran of Fallujah and Helmand, and myself, a Vietnam veteran.

The woman, a bright senior, and I started out
talking about the man she was driving and that conversation morphed into
Afghanistan and getting the heck out. I mentioned that the hardships of Korea,
the "forgotten war," made Afghanistan pale by comparison. The older gentleman
seemed to wake up and mumbled an apology for jumping into the conversation and
he was welcomed -- of course. He was a retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant who had
fought in Korea and Vietnam. He acknowledged that Korea was the forgotten war
and told a brief story about his unit "resting" behind the lines, but still
having to man defensive positions. One night he was handed a .38 revolver (!)
and sent to man the front gate of the compound. It began to snow and soon it had
piled up to shoulder height. Two days later they were able to reach him and
relieve him on post. Note that he did not talk about the cold, the lack of food
and water, or the hardships of the fights that preceded resting. We talked some
more about how, in Vietnam, he had gotten tired of the infantry and changed his
MOS to aviation ordnance, and he spoke of his gauging the intensity of the
battles by the amount and type of ordnance he was supplying for the planes. He
observed that it was not going well. And then he was called back to see the
doctor.

It was running very late and was now 1730 (for a
1530 appointment). Next the woman's friend came out and they left. I was now
alone in the room with a rigid, taciturn, powerfully built young man who was
standing at parade rest facing the door and wearing a backpack. His face was a
slightly hostile mask. I asked him if he was a veteran and he said yes, he was
a Marine. I observed that he must have been in Afghanistan and he replied that
he had fought in both Iraq and Afghanistan. I asked him what he did and he said
that he had been a "door kicker." He said it with both pride and resignation --
he was not happy. Part of it was due to the fact that his wife hadn't shown up
yet to take him home. He phoned her and it was clear that they were not
communicating well. I took a chance and said that I had observed that many
younger veterans were seemingly angry and asked if he was doing OK. He revealed
the very sliver of a smile and said with some hesitation that "he was doing OK."
He said that he had spent 10 years in the Corps and that at the very end, he
too had changed his MOS to aviation and proudly said that he had worked on
Harriers. Then it turned out that both he and his brother had fought in the
same places and made the same shift to aviation. He politely listened to my
mentioning that I had read books by Bing West, who West is, and also Little America. When I said that West
had explained the folly that led to the vicious second Battle of Fallujah, he
acknowledged that with an angry nod and a "yes." Then I mentioned that in Little America General Nicholson had
been described as a nice man with the wrong instincts about where and how to
fight. It was clear that this former NCO was not happy with General Nicholson
at all.

Just then his wife drove up and he said, "Time to go
home to my three kids." I exclaimed "three?" and he smiled. I asked if he was
now working as a civilian at Cherry Point and he showed surprise and said yes
that he was working on Harriers. I said that that was a good job and that "I
had found that the best thing to say was ‘welcome home,' so welcome home." He
smiled for the first time and said, "that was right -- welcome home," and we
shook hands and he went out through the door to join his wife.

Now alone in an ever colder waiting room, I marveled
at the parallel careers of these two Marines, separated by fifty years, but
sharing the same thought processes -- that kicking doors had gotten old and it
was time for a change. And, just as comfortable as "the Gunny" was with his
life, this new veteran Marine was going to go through a difficult transition to
reach that place as I had noted his demeanor and his difficulty in
communicating with his wife on the phone. They were going to have to learn to
communicate and perhaps deal with his demons or their marriage would come to an
end. He is a fine young man.

He and his brother are home now, but are we helping them to get all the way
home?

The author served on active duty
and in the Reserve for 23 years and was lucky to spend most of that time in
Army Special Forces, with a diversion to Intelligence. While in Vietnam, he served both on an
"A" Team and with DARPA. As a reservist, he served in OSD. In civilian life he
has been an editor for McGraw Hill, a civil servant with USIA, and an IT
manager in Washington. He is now retired on a boat in North Carolina.