Post Traumatic Stress Disorder …1944
PTSD
did not officially become a diagnosis until 1980 but I will never
forget how it affected our lives one
lovely spring evening in
1944.
This
grainy picture is me, age11, and Ron, one of the many British sailors
that our family entertained during WWII. “Our” boys usually
came in pairs but a few of them, like Ron, practically lived at our
house and they often came out alone …hopping on the train just as
soon as they had leave. This
day he
had arrived from Boston’s naval yard where his ship was docked and
I was the lucky
greeter.
Ours was a big family, 5
girls, our parents and many friends … not to mention the sailors.
On
the night that I recall we were
all gathered in the living room. It was a hot night and we'd
opened the big window that looked out on the screened
in porch
in order to circulate the
air.
Ron
was
the center of attention, sitting
on
the floor near
the window and entertaining
us with his
news. All
of a sudden a car backfired in front of our house. It was a
very loud bang
and
we all flinched or
covered our ears. Then, as we
all
came
back to our senses, we realized that Ron was no longer with us. Where was he? What had happened?
My
mother was the first to act and she rushed to the porch to find Ron
crouched on the other side of the window, shivering and covering his
head with his arms. He had instinctively jumped through the window to
find safety and it had been so quick that we literally didn’t see
it. When we realized what had happened our dad held
us back and told
us to stay where we were.
It
was an hour
before Ron and mother came back in and
we tried our best to act
normal and put
him at ease.
It
was our first lesson in the horrendous unseen
wounds
of war but it would not be our last … and mother was always there
to comfort the boys that we came to love.
posted by Ginnie at 4:00 PM
7 Comments:
It was considered a weakness, and too often still is.
AC is correct. We lose many good people every year from the effects of PTSD.
They use to call it shell shocked and sadly in those days there was little help for the men. I think it is wonderful that Americans such as you opened you home to boys so far from home. What a comfort it must have been.
While these men could find comfort and shelter in your home, Ginnie, it's clear they could never forget the war even when in the comfort of a home where they were safe from danger.
I remember a young man in our neighborhood who was very handsome and behaved in childish ways. All the children liked him because he was soft-spoken and smiled a lot. When I asked my grandparents about him because he was so different from others his age, they told me he was "shell-shocked." We children always treated him with respect and tenderness. How sad when I think back on what happened to him because of WWII.
Interesting story. What can I say but war is hell... even after it is over.
There is nothing romantic about war as so many movies, especially in the WWII era portrayed it. Recent years I’ve come to wonder about behaviors of a couple family members, brothers, who returned from U.S. after WWI and ultimately became chemically dependent, ruining their own lives, damaging those of their immediate family and subsequently dying young. Other family said they had returned from Europe significantly changed. Were they coping with PTSD?
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