Battle Ready: Memoir of a SEAL Warrior Medic (41 page)

Although we had an implicit veteran program based on the brotherhood of service, it primarily benefited those who lived near the SEAL community, most notably Virginia Beach and Coronado. Now we needed to formalize our intentions. The association had worked with other veteran organizations in the past, but in a closed community many of our members were still reluctant to ask outside organizations for help. What we needed was something from within, something that could team with existing programs to meet the needs of our members, a communication and coordination channel. This became more evident with the passing of one of my BUD/S instructors.

*   *   *

I walked into the office to meet with Jacky and hear more about a call she’d received. As the family support coordinator for the active-duty SEALs on the East Coast, it was her job to meet with the ombudsman from each team and spouses and family members to assist them with any problems they might be facing related to a husband’s or father’s service. The program, an extension of the ombudsman’s outreach, had proven a striking success, but unfortunately her hands were tied when it came to veterans.

“Mark, I received a call from Lynn Bukowski. Her husband just passed away,” she said as I pulled a chair closer to her desk.

I knew of Steve from my days at BUD/S, but I didn’t really get to know him until we bumped into one another at the East Coast compound. Steve was a top-flight operator and leader, so the news of his passing was upsetting to everyone in the community.

“Hopefully it was painless,” I said as I sat down while she continued.

“Lynn is having a terrible time trying to figure out what needs to get done, and there’s only so much we can do.”

Steve and Lynn had adopted a special-needs child years earlier and moved out to the country just prior to his retirement, which only complicated the sudden loss of her husband. She was left confused and feeling alone during an extremely trying time.

Jacky had a plethora of support options at her fingertips, but once Steve retired, programs previously available to his family were closed or at the very least extremely limited. Jacky and I had discussed this exact scenario with Jack Lynch, the president of the UDT-SEAL Association, and his executive director weeks earlier. All agreed that it was time to update the organization from a club to a service organization, but being in the initial stages we were still building our network of resources and establishing protocols.

“Well, I guess there’s no better way to develop our process than the immediate needs of a member,” said Jacky.

“I guess so,” I said, as I started thinking about how to put new plans in motion. Having personally experienced the horrible effects of self-inflicted isolation, a common response by many veterans, I understood the importance of utilizing fraternal organizations to reach out to men and women and their families who might otherwise be missed. Likewise I had seen the positive effects of getting veterans and their surviving family members involved in activities affecting both their previous military profession and veteran community. No vet or family should ever feel that their alliance with the military ends when they separate from service. There are plenty of organizations from American Legion to VFW to join and I find spending a good amount of time helping fellow vets find support and camaraderie as they transition from active duty to the civilian world has helped me a great deal as well.

Needless to say, Jack’s wife, Jeanette, and Heather, the spouse of an active-duty SEAL, immediately dove into Lynn’s case. Working in conjunction with other organizations, they were able to help her. Unbeknownst to her, she became a catalyst for redirecting some of the organization’s efforts from reacting to the passing of veterans to assisting them in life, and so started the consortium of support that continues to build today.

31

CLOSE

We are made wise not by the recollection of our past, but by the responsibility for our future.

—G
EORGE
B
ERNARD
S
HAW

The invisible wounds of combat are difficult to treat, primarily due to each member’s reluctance to reach for help. I feel a large part of their trepidation is because of society’s misapprehensions about combat stress. Thankfully, the Veterans Administration, the Department of Defense, and our veterans from previous conflicts have been working to erase the stigma attached to post-traumatic stress. If we are going to reach these patriots and their family members, we must first recognize the problem for what it is, a condition and not a disorder.

The changes that combat causes in the mind and spirit are a result of exposing a normal mind to abnormal, horrific, terrifying, and continual stressful circumstances; it is a normal and expected reaction. In the world of special operations we learn to compartmentalize these stressors and moderate our emotions, thereby minimizing the ill effects while conducting operations. It is an inherent quality that is honed from the first day of training. However, it is important to understand that although these stressors can be minimized, they are not eliminated, nor are the families of these brave heroes immune to them.

Anyone who experiences combat will be changed forever. The idea that you can go into battle and not be affected by the death and destruction that accompanies it is ridiculous. If you were to visit the Louvre in Paris for the first time, whether you found it an enjoyable or dreadful experience it would be a life-changing event. The idea that somehow going to a foreign land filled with hateful people trying to kill you or experiencing the wounding or burial of your fellow soldiers isn’t going to alter your psyche is ludicrous. However, not all of those changes have to result in harmful effects. Many of my friends and teammates have been able to positively refocus their lives toward other endeavors, and I have yet to come across one of our wounded who hasn’t found some way to benefit from his or her experience. I know I am a better husband, father, and person for what I went through, but I also know that I will always carry guilt and pain deep within me, requiring treatment.

As you can see, I am no hero. I, perhaps like many of you, boxed up my emotions and locked them in a war chest deep inside my mind. This allowed me to continue on with the mission, but only for the short term. Over time my war chest became full and was unable to hold all of my boxes. Yet I kept adding more until one day it exploded and sent them crashing to the floor, releasing all of my demons at once.

It is impossible to know if or when this might happen to you, as boxes come in all shapes and sizes. Some are large and completely fill a war chest; others are small, allowing a much greater amount to be stored away. The effects are still the same, a war chest full of heartache and pain. Some of you may be able to keep the contents safely locked away, but the majority won’t. You might sustain a physical wound or injury, and as your mind and body focus on healing, the lock weakens. Others may overload the chest with new emotional experiences unrelated to the war—the death of family member or a friend, or discovering that the time to reconcile a relationship with a spouse or child may have passed you by. It may be the fragility of age that loosens your lock, or any number of things that only you may know about, but eventually the chest will open. What happens when it does remains to be seen.

If exposing my vulnerabilities helps one of you, be it a soldier, spouse, or child, to realize it’s better to seek help with unpacking your boxes before the inevitable bursting of the war chest, then all the criticism I will receive for writing this book will be worth it. It took years of heartache and pain that nearly destroyed my family and me and that deeply affected my friends, co-workers, and neighbors before I could admit to having this lifelong condition. I recognize that my anger only masked my fear and that much of my fear was derived from a stigma I chose to accept. My not wanting to be affiliated with what my colleagues branded a disorder only isolated me from the world, and the walls I built to protect myself from the indignity only perpetuated my condition. It wasn’t until I started to speak to a trusted friend with similar experiences and my family convinced me to seek help that I began to recover. Don’t let that happen to you! Combat stress is not a disorder. It is a circumstantial condition that affects everyone in the family, especially the kids. The only way to effectively deal with it is by continually emptying the boxes, and that takes talking to someone. It doesn’t matter to whom you speak at first, but it is paramount that you talk. I intensified my problems with silence. Learn from my mistakes and be willing to listen to what is offered to you.

It took years before the services openly expressed a willingness to tackle these problems, but the programs are in place, and although there is room for improvement they are working. The number of medical providers permanently assigned to warfighting units has substantially increased, including psychologists and sociologists. Wounded advocates and family support programs once consolidated hundreds or thousands of miles away now reside at warfighting commands. The importance of this co-location cannot be stressed enough. Warriors and their spouses won’t open up to individuals they don’t know! It doesn’t matter if they wear the same uniform, patch, or beret. If they are not working side by side with them every day, if they don’t see them within their compound, they are viewed as outsiders. Trust is the most essential element for someone seeking assistance, and those military commands that have been willing to make these changes have the opportunity to address the problem before it starts. These are very personal issues that demand personal attention, based on a personal relationship.

Those of you who have never served or experienced combat may be asking, “What can I do to help these brave men and women?” The answer is simpler than you might think. First and foremost, assist in breaking the silence. As a society we must make it acceptable to speak openly about this condition, the same way you would about any other medical diagnosis. It should never be disastrous for a veteran, spouse, or child to be afflicted with any condition, especially when it is solely based on circumstances resulting from a service member’s willingness to sacrifice for others. Educate yourself on this condition the same way you would on any lifelong ailment affecting a family member or close friend. Get familiar with and support veteran initiatives in your area and know where someone suffering from the condition can turn for help. Provide assistance whenever possible; most of the time all it will take is lending a nonjudgmental ear, but other times it may require much more as we try to prevent these patriots from becoming jobless or homeless or even taking their own lives. Hold America’s feet to the fire when it comes to ensuring our service members, veterans, and their families receive the physical and mental care they deserve. If they can bear the cost of freedom, we can certainly manage the cost of their health care! Above all else, keep in mind that when you encounter a combat veteran there might be more going on inside than you know, and maybe, just maybe, you are the one person who will open the door to allow him or her to reach out for help.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As I stated in the introduction, I never intended to write a book. Even after I began to transcribe my journals into a memoir I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of publicizing my life. For nearly a year the partially completed manuscript sat on my dresser while I contemplated the impact this book might have on my family and me. It wasn’t until my fellow service members began telling me how my admissions helped them deal with their own difficulties that I realized how important it was for me to finish the book. Therefore I would be remiss if I didn’t start off by thanking those war veterans who rekindled my spirit.

If my comrades sparked the fire, Korrina certainly tended the flame. Thank you, my love, for believing in me and always finding a way to make things work. You cared for our kids when I needed to write and were my pillar of strength when my father passed away. You put love in my heart and fervor in my soul. I would be lost without you.

Tabetha and Cody, we will never get back the months I spent overseas, the days lost while I emotionally separated myself from the family, or the mornings I spent hitting the keyboard trying to express to the world what had gone on inside of me. I hope one day this book will tell you things that I never could. I love you both and wish I could have been more of a traditional father during your formative years.

Mom, words cannot express how thankful I am for having you as my mother. You’ve been my guiding light in a sea of darkness and my stalwart supporter when I was at my worst. All that I am is because of you. More importantly, the world is a better place with you in it.

Jedi and Ginger, my therapeutic canine companions, your gentle nature and unconditional love were monumental in helping me regain trust in my surroundings. Your ability to instantly omit my misgivings was a constant reminder to me how essential forgiveness is in order to find happiness. Korrina may have rescued you from the racetrack, but your company helped save me from myself.

I also owe an enormous debt of gratitude to following individuals who assisted me in writing this book. My coauthor, Scott Mactavish, understood how this was more about me saying what I needed to say than a historical listing of events. You’re a great mentor and confidant. I couldn’t have done it without you. Dwight Zimmerman introduced me to the literary world and educated me along the way. I wish circumstances had permitted us to write together; regardless, I never would have met Marc and the others without you or learned the intricacies of the industry, and for that I am truly grateful. Mike Atkinson was not only the catalyst that got me moving but also a friend willing to accept the nuances that are distinctively me. Mike, you are a great patriot and teammate for all SEALs; thank you. Dennis Kelly, your unwavering generosity with your time and energy is remarkable especially considering all the events going on in your life. You’re a shining example of an officer and a gentleman. Jeanette Lynch, your sound advice and gentle feedback were essential in my sorting out a confusing time in my life. Doug and Pam Sterner, Violet and Mac Stroud, and Heather Connors, at various times each of you kept me energized and often unbeknownst to you reminded me of the reasons for my writing; thank you. Suzanne and Steve Vogel, I wish the world knew what dedicated and good-hearted people you are. When others criticized not only my efforts but also my intentions, your spirit helped remind me to focus on the good in them. You are truly compassionate professionals. Peter Wikul, at a time of war you still remained a big-hearted commanding officer, mentor, and close friend. You broke new ground and developed officers and sailors who continue to make a difference; thank you. To my teammates, friends, and family not mentioned in the pages of this book, thank you for accepting me for who I am and guiding me along my career. I try just to remember the good times, unless the bad are required to prevent me from duplicating a monumental mistake or to impart a lesson from my life to others. I was told by an old gunnery sergeant when I first entered service that my appreciation for the military and those with whom I’d served would exponentially increase with age. He was definitely right! You are all such great individuals, and I am thankful for your being a part of my life.