"It is cowardice to commit suicide" (Napoleon)

.....I recently learned that there are 18 suicides every day in the armed forces.  This is a shocking number.  I do not remember anything like that about suicides in WWII while I  was a member in the military.  I did not feel anything like that, but the truth is that every time I entered our B-24 for a combat mission--it was in reality a kind of suicide.  However, I do remember the times after the war that I was suicidal.  I don't know why, but for some reason I feel embarrassment when I admit that to anyone--and especially now that I write about it.  Following my discharge, when I went back to work in a bank as a teller,  it didn't take very long before I felt like a dead fish in stagnant water.  Banking was not my thing--I didn't know what to do about it.  I was having nightmares and flashbacks about my war experiences, and I simply felt a huge emptiness in a life which seemed to be going nowhere.  I lacked an education and could not afford college costs.  After attempting a leap from my bedroom window, my sister screamed at me and pulled me back.  (I wasn't about to jump, anyway).

.....This all happened while I was scheduled to be married on June 15, 1946.  Invitations were printed, but the marriage on that day never happened.  My mother insisted that I go to see someone for help in a VA hospital in the Bronx.  I told her that there was nothing wrong with me, but to please her I went and vowed that I would be back shortly.  What happened was that after a session with a psychiatrist there, I was admitted to a "lock ward" (bars on the windows) and was kept there for six months.  Suicides must be prevented, and can be if family, teachers, friends observe the signs of people who are suicidal; no plans for a future, severe depression, avoidance of contact with people, angered easily, loss of appetite, sleeping long and frequently.  At the time I went to the hospital I was diagnosed with "battle fatigue" which today is known as PTSD.  When these signs are apparent, especially with a veteran, he must be urged to get help. It must be insisted upon.  I have been kept on an even keel by medication and psychiatric treatment in VA hospitals for the past thirty years.  I still go.  Not that I enjoy it, or need to. I just like listening to the radio in my car during the 45 minutes it takes for me to get there.

.....Besides wanting to die after coming home from war, I also wanted to die following surgery on my hips.  During that time, the pain I felt was too much to bear--even with the morphine in the pain pills I was taking.  I know that I was taking what I think was called oxycoden (sp).   The nurses I see in doctors' offices always ask to say what the level of your pain is "from 1 to 10" with 10 being severest.  Well, my pain during my recovery was off the chart.  I felt the only way to relieve me from that pain was to die.  Really. But, unfortunately I didn't know how to do it. I thought maybe with a firecracker or my starter's pistol.  I'm OK, now, though, and I'm glad I didn't know how to die, because I'm about to be a great grandfather in a couple of weeks, and I've recently become a grandfather-in-law.  Also, if I were to die, I would never be able to have another bagel and vegetable cream cheese nor spaghetti and meatballs, or even gefilte fish with horseradish.