6800 marines were killed in a month, on a patch of land only a few square miles.
It was in a day they didn’t have PTSD. Those men grew quiet about the Pacific Theater, came home and went on with life.
Our fathers and grandfathers fought the Second World War, and defeated true evil. They created the world we all grew up in after World War II.
I admire the courage and bravery of those men who fought true evil and gave us the world we grew up in.
People who bitch about how Trump is Hitler or how its evil not to bake a wedding cake for a homosexual marriage_, are utterly mindless and clueless about what true evil is. These people who.bitch about such subjects never will call Muslim terror by its rightful name, or call terrorism evil. To them evil is not endorsing homosexual behavior or not being on board with global warming.
Thats a nice way to look at it.
I had two uncles in the Pacific. They were both walking PTSDs when I knew them as a young adult thirty years after the fact.
One drank his problems away. The other one was depressed to the point of losing most of the good things in his life.
They sure had it. They did not treat it. They ALL didn’t just go on.
I am not discounting the folks who did come home and get on with it. But there is a common theme that these men just sucked it up and came home and “went on with their lives.”
ALL wars take a toll for decades after the battles are over.
It was in a day they didn’t have PTSD. Those men grew quiet about the Pacific Theater, came home and went on with life.
It wasn’t called PTSD but the war adversely affected many and some were not able to go on with normal lives.
Sure.
When I was a medical student in the 1970s, there were psychiatric hospitals that were filled with WW II psychiatric casualties (and a few from Korea).
Here's a link if you are interested.
As late as 1998, I had a patient admitted to my service with severe abdominal pain. He was 88 years old then.
When I went in to see him, a mob of students, residents, and nurses in tow, he was sitting up in bed, sweating bullets from the pain. He could have put his uniform from 1945 back on, he was that fit. Haircut high and tight. He hadn't asked for any pain medicine all night, so the entourage was mystified that he was in so much pain.
But I knew why, so I asked him to tell 15 people why he hadn't rung for the nurse for pain medicine. His answer:
"Infantrymen only talk to infantrymen".