After 26 years in the Navy my ship was heading back from Desert Storm. I had been a 30 year man until that deployment but had burned out from sleep deprivation and fatigue at age 43. Not your typical war wound. I wasn't complaining...was just used up, tired, wanted out, needed to work on my massive sleep debt. Was a CICO on an Aegis Cruiser, a busy guy. We stopped in Marseille, France, where I had my retirement physical on a Navy Destroyer Tender. Most folks I know got the generic 10-15% VA disability after 20. That was pretty much pro forma. I wasn't much interested. Felt fit enough aside from deafness, achy joints, an ancient gun shot wound...and that burn out from lack of sleep for 6 months. Feel guilt about killing innocent Vietnamese civilians because the NGFS spotter screwed up but it was a teamwork thing and we share the outcomes. The doc on the tender said they couldn't certify any disabilities there, that I'd need to go to a proper hospital stateside. My retirement date was Monday 1 July 1991 and I knew we were to arrive in Mayport on 28 June, a Friday. All I wanted was out. Didn't want to stay in the Navy one day longer than 1 July. I left the telephone off the hook that weekend. I declined any disability. When the ship arrived that Friday in June I skipped the ceremonies on the quarterdeck, met my wife and kids on the pier and drove home to Pensacola. Never made a VA claim. Always considered that whatever happened to my body and mind in the Navy was normal wear and tear. My friends tell I am stupid. But I made my choices back in 1991. Am still deaf, my joints ache, have diabetes now and have some horrid nightmares. The nightmares are real. They always involve me at my current age in a set of Dress Blues with the hem of my jumper riding up over my belly, going aboard an Aircraft Carrier as an E-6 in the ship's 3-M Coordinator billet*. And tomorrow is the annual 3-M inspection. I retired an LDO LT, used to be a CWO3 and EWCS(SW). The nightmare's theme was me being an E-6 again (and forever) and I am surrounded by everyone I ever had to use cross words with in the line of duty. They are all as young as they used to be but all are now E-7 and above and have wolfish grins. The nightmare is real. I cannot wake up from it. Sometimes my wife has to shake me awake. Big deal, I say to myself, I have all my limbs and am relatively spry at age 75. My dad had it worse with nightmares of being an Air Force pilot of unarmed cargo, paratrooper and SIGINT planes in WWII and the Korean War. Many of his friends were killed. He also flew many medevac flights from Nazi death camps to England after the war. I begrudge no one a VA claim. It is just not something I want to endure. Hate paperwork, being poked and prodded and being jerked around by bureauweenies safeguarding the government coffers. God bless you, Arthur, I wish you well and a complete healing.
*(Note: Long ago the EW rating, now defunct after being gobbled up by the Cryppies, volunteered one EWCM slot to a 3-M Coordinator billet aboard a CVA, the more decrepit the better. All EWCM billets were shore duty except that one. That billet was for a punishment tour. True story. I know one of the EWCM's who got detailed. Lord, he had it coming, and his assignment was much cheered by the small EW community.)
After 26 years in the Navy my ship was heading back from Desert Storm. I had been a 30 year man until that deployment but had burned out from sleep deprivation and fatigue at age 43. Not your typical war wound. I wasn't complaining...was just used up, tired, wanted out, needed to work on my massive sleep debt. Was a CICO on an Aegis Cruiser, a busy guy. We stopped in Marseille, France, where I had my retirement physical on a Navy Destroyer Tender. Most folks I know got the generic 10-15% VA disability after 20. That was pretty much pro forma. I wasn't much interested. Felt fit enough aside from deafness, achy joints, an ancient gun shot wound...and that burn out from lack of sleep for 6 months. Feel guilt about killing innocent Vietnamese civilians because the NGFS spotter screwed up but it was a teamwork thing and we share the outcomes. The doc on the tender said they couldn't certify any disabilities there, that I'd need to go to a proper hospital stateside. My retirement date was Monday 1 July 1991 and I knew we were to arrive in Mayport on 28 June, a Friday. All I wanted was out. Didn't want to stay in the Navy one day longer than 1 July. I left the telephone off the hook that weekend. I declined any disability. When the ship arrived that Friday in June I skipped the ceremonies on the quarterdeck, met my wife and kids on the pier and drove home to Pensacola. Never made a VA claim. Always considered that whatever happened to my body and mind in the Navy was normal wear and tear. My friends tell I am stupid. But I made my choices back in 1991. Am still deaf, my joints ache, have diabetes now and have some horrid nightmares. The nightmares are real. They always involve me at my current age in a set of Dress Blues with the hem of my jumper riding up over my belly, going aboard an Aircraft Carrier as an E-6 in the ship's 3-M Coordinator billet*. And tomorrow is the annual 3-M inspection. I retired an LDO LT, used to be a CWO3 and EWCS(SW). The nightmare's theme was me being an E-6 again (and forever) and I am surrounded by everyone I ever had to use cross words with in the line of duty. They are all as young as they used to be but all are now E-7 and above and have wolfish grins. The nightmare is real. I cannot wake up from it. Sometimes my wife has to shake me awake. Big deal, I say to myself, I have all my limbs and am relatively spry at age 75. My dad had it worse with nightmares of being an Air Force pilot of unarmed cargo, paratrooper and SIGINT planes in WWII and the Korean War. Many of his friends were killed. He also flew many medevac flights from Nazi death camps to England after the war. I begrudge no one a VA claim. It is just not something I want to endure. Hate paperwork, being poked and prodded and being jerked around by bureauweenies safeguarding the government coffers. God bless you, Arthur, I wish you well and a complete healing.
*(Note: Long ago the EW rating, now defunct after being gobbled up by the Cryppies, volunteered one EWCM slot to a 3-M Coordinator billet aboard a CVA, the more decrepit the better. All EWCM billets were shore duty except that one. That billet was for a punishment tour. True story. I know one of the EWCM's who got detailed. Lord, he had it coming, and his assignment was much cheered by the small EW community.)