37 years ago, in 1970, my brother was killed in Viet Nam. That is not such a startling fact, some 58,000 died in Viet Nam. What is astonishing to me is that members of his unit have started contacting me.
The first happened a year and a half or so ago. Out of the blue I get a phone call from a man who served with my brother. I idolized my older brother, my only sibling and my whole family was devastated by his death, as I'm sure were the other 58,000 families. This past weekend, I return home after a month to find a book, written by another unit-mate of my brother. This memoir describes my brother's death in horrific and gory detail.
These men were draftees, they served their one tour and went home and were never the same. The fact that they seek me out 37 years later and speak to me of PTSD and how hard it is to get treatment bodes ill for the future. In light of the scandals of the VA and Walter Reed, I dread the future of the survivors of Bush's wars as much as the futures of the casulties.