I want to Share something special to me…
I may not come from a military family, nor do I have any current military ties. However, I had a grandfather who had a very peculiar set of incidents during W2. The experience forever changed him. He didn’t talk much about his experiences to others in the family until I had a school project. I was to interview someone from the military and someone from the era of W2. I asked him if he would mind doing the project with me. He agreed and it changed my knowledge of humanity and circumstances for life.
My Papa Bob had joined at the beginning and spent the entire time being shifted from one group to another group. He was in and out of Europe and Africa. He was sent on missions without knowing what he had in his bag. Weaving in and out of enemy lines, not knowing he was doing so yet finally meeting up with important officers that would change the course of the war… for all.
My Papa Bob was awarded several purple hearts, silver, bronze, and Medal of Honor. We knew he had a bronze star, however, he kept the others quiet. Especially, the Medal of Honor that was awarded a few months before his death. He hated the reasons he was awarded these honors. When his grandchildren went to D.C. to see the memorials, or to Normandy to see those memorials. He would give us names to look up and things to say in honor of each. We did not know whom these were to him, nor when they knew each other.
During the interviews with my Papa Bob, I learned a great deal about survival and understanding others no matter what side you are on. There were two stories that have always stuck with me. One was how when he was on one of the crazy assignments. He had taken ill in the winter. A family in the wilderness took him in, healed him, fed him, and clothed him. They barely had enough for themselves. They gave him food and gear to continue on his trek. They knew he was American and a soldier. That didn’t matter. They wanted to help him survive. He left on a clear blue sky day. The first in several weeks. He had hiked for about 2 hours when he heard bomber planes. He hid and watched through binoculars as they flew over the area of the farm he had just left, and released upon it. He went back and did what he could to honor those that had helped him.
Another was a relationship he had with a woman. He had been overseas for years and had missed being sent home or moved out of action every time because of these weird missions. He had fallen for a young woman and through time spent as friends and caring for some that were hurt in the hills. He fell in love even though he was engaged with my Baba Lanny in the States. He told me how he only held the woman's hand. Never kissed her. Just held hands and felt a true connection. The village he had helped to keep safe came under a track and he watched his new love die in front of him.
When the war was over and he came back he went through severe PTSD as did many. As do many still! He married my Baba Lanny. They raised 2 children together. He became a beekeeper for a short time to deal with the issues and memories he kept to himself. His wife and in-laws, and sister watched him in his silence but, never knew how to help him when the “fits,” happened. He would show love through food, nature time, fishing, truck rides, dancing to old music, and talking about anything I wanted to. He was not always a gentle or kind feeling person. He had his sturn almost mean side. It came from Years of holding things in and caring for my grandmother who had become wheelchair-bound from MS, shortly after their 1st child was born. Later I put this all together. It was not till after what I experienced and heard from him did I understand the moments he was so harsh and I thought he hated me.
He had not had a “fit,” for decades till one night I was staying over. I was not aware of PTSD then, I was maybe 8 yrs old. My Baba Lanny was Wheel Chair bound with MS and not able to ambulate at all on her own. He started to have a flashback. I heard him and crept out of my room to see what was going on. He was in the back room with a gun and naked. He grabbed his water flask and gun and went out the garage door. They lived in the country with very few around, yet close to a national interstate. I was not sure what was happening. I just knew My Papa Bob needed me and my energy. I caught up after getting boots and pants on. I stayed behind enough to stay quiet. I have always had good night vision and that night I was very glad I had. He had walked a half mile through the field to the woods. He wove through the woods to where I knew he had his hives at one point. He sat there on a large boulder. He started praying out loud in many languages I never knew he knew. He was not a church-going or religious man. He believed in being with nature and having communion on your own with it.
He called out for help. He cried and thought he heard things. I crept closer and closer till I thought I would be able to send healing vibes to him to calm him. I knew I could do it with animals and babies. Why not my Papa Bob? I sent peace into him. I breathed slowly so his primal self would feel it. He turned to me when he heard me. Raised his gun and his eyes were not his own. I saw his fear and pain. I felt and saw his memories flying by. I sent what I could and reached up to the gun. I told him he was safe. I told him slowly that we were in the woods. I called him Bob and Robert. I never told him he was not being good or doing something wrong.
Finally, I got the gun away from him and slowly put a blanket I had brought, around him. He asked if I was an angel and if I would give him mercy for all he had caused and done. I told him I was sent by the angels to give him grace and comfort. I did not know why I said that, I just let what was flowing through me happen. We sat there for at least 2 more hours till I felt it was ok to wrap my arms around him and hug him. I called him back to the present as much as I could without him feeling embarrassed. I walked holding his hand back to the house. I made sure he got back into bed and covered him up. My grandmother never woke up. She was not aware at all nor was their dog Cassy, a white Pyrenees that adored him. They slept through this experience.
The next morning I woke early and made breakfast. Helped my Baba Lanny before Papa Bob awoke. When he did come into the kitchen for breakfast and coffee he was surprised how he had a headache and his feet hurt. I did not tell him what had happened. He had hinted at it a few times when it was just us, till the interview for school. He started to have PTSD Flashbacks. I felt I could help him. I turned off the tape recorder and took him outside for some of his famous iced tea and to sit in the rockers. We sat and I did what I had 6 years before. He turned and said my name. Made such deep eye contact with me that I felt his soul notice mine. He took my hand and started to cry. He thanked me for listening and caring. “Hailey, I am sorry I am a one-eyed fat man and an ass. Thank you for being my angel more than once! Thank you for hearing me. For giving me the closer I have feared to happen for 55 years.” After that, he only talked to me about this stuff. He told my Youngest sister about Normandy when she went there for a school trip.
When I gave my final report my teacher whom was a desert storm vet cried, he asked to meet my Papa Bob. They met and actually had a secret group of fellow veteran that looked at the War not as a badge of honor…but or remembrance to others.
Honor and Remember EVERYONE that was ever truly affected by WAR, and the lack of Respect for fellow humans.
I have met many from military backgrounds that have held much in. No matter which decade(s) they served. I have heard the PTSD of the ones that have served and of that of their loved ones.
This weekend is not only honoring the sacrifice of the bodies but also the lives. The mental and emotional lives of those that have helped hold up the integrity of what is right and wrong. My Papa Bob was a registered Republican, however, he had told me that after 9-11, he could not only vote one-sided any longer. He had to take a stand even if it was a secret one. He had said he had to Honor and Remember EVERYONE that was ever truly affected by WAR, and the lack of Respect for fellow humans.
So in honor of ALL of those that have sacrificed, for our county and for those around the world in the light of respect for all. Thank you!
Are you or someone you know dealing with PTSD? Trying to let out what you need to inside?
Please let us work together to find your frequencies and how to use them!
Or please reach out to a PTSD Professional.
Love and Light unto you all!
Hailey
