Ptsd

All sexually active participants are 18+. No person, living or dead is portrayed in this fictional account.

I'm hesitant to publish this.

If you really know what PTSD is, you might want to skip this story. Vietnam is ancient history to most of you but it's last night to others. Do I think that falling in love with your sister will alleviate the symptoms of PTSD? Don't know, as I never had a sister, but...Also sure the VA has never examined it.

My oldest brother, Seth, was the toughest human on the face of the Earth. Maybe a bit of an exaggeration but not much. Have to qualify that, as he was the toughest physically.

I was the youngest of our siblings. Kasey. That's me, female and now 25. I was always sports driven, field hockey and track. Shot put, to be exact. From those interest areas you'll understand that I wasn't a skinny twig. I had broad shoulders, a reasonable chest and a body appropriately dimensioned. About 5'10" and 150 pounds. Dark brown hair, green eyes and a cute face (That's what my brothers told me.).

Seth really was my big brother. He was 6'3 and easily over 200 pounds. No fat

My other brother, James, was born 2 years before me and 2 years after Seth. Seth was born in 1948 in Columbus, GA. You might guess where this was going if you do the math. Seth joined the army at age 17 in 1965 right after high school. He spent 6 months in training (basic, infantry training and airborne). He volunteered for Vietnam and went there at age 18. He was in an airborne infantry unit. Now it gets fuzzy to me.

Even though James was closer in age to me than Seth, I always felt closer to Seth than James. James treated me like an annoying baby sister. Seth never tried to evade me or dismiss me. He was always ready to listen to me and to step on James when James was treating me badly.

Don't get me wrong, I adored both of my brothers. It was just that I really missed Seth. When Seth went into the army, James dialed back his unfavorable interactions with me. He became more tolerant and supportive, even though I was just beginning my terrible early teens.

I was 14 when Seth went to Vietnam. Communication was

via

letters. His were infrequent. Understandable. I wrote at least once a week. James and the parents, a little less. Even his letters were vague. I didn't understand it at that time. Now, of course, I do: He didn't want to let us know what was actually happening. Midway through his tour, he got R&R in Hong Kong. He spent an astronomical amount on a long distance call that lasted less than 30 minutes.

At the end of his tour we were flabbergasted to learn he had extended his tour to become a LRRP (Long Range Recon Patrol). It soon became a company in the 75

th

Ranger Regiment. We looked up the history of the rangers. It sure didn't look safe.

He spent a full tour there as a ranger. He finally came home after two years in Vietnam. God, how he had changed! Not so much physically but more reserved and a blankness in his eyes. He showed up at the door in uniform. A bunch of ribbons on his chest. I had to ask what they represented. He pointed them out: Silver Star, Bronze star with an oak leaf cluster (representing one more award, Purple Heart with 2 clusters, and a bunch of campaign ribbons and a couple of Vietnamese awards. I was silent, not really understanding fully. James was open mouthed in admiration.

Seth was now just 20. He said he was reenlisting when he returned from leave. When his 30 days were up Seth left for Ft. Benning. James enlisted the day Seth left. I had overheard Seth trying to convince James to stay in school, and go to college. Can't tell you how upset Mom and Dad were. So was I, at only 16 I was now alone.

There were always big differences between Seth and James. Seth was competent. Whatever he did, he excelled at it. James was impulsive and, unfortunately, very stubborn. Once he decided on something, he did it. He was in no way as athletic or competent as Seth. James wasn't Seth's size, either. James was always on the lean side. Although he tried to add muscle mass, he always failed.

Seth returned to Vietnam after re-upping.

James came home a couple of time after he finished basic training. He remained pretty much the same as before he went in. Different from Seth. After basic and infantry training Seth had changed. He seemed to realize that the army was serious business and that he needed to pay attention. James didn't appear to understand. Like many 18 year olds, he envisioned himself, like Seth, a hero.

James followed Seth's footsteps: Infantry and then Vietnam. Six months into his tour, James was killed in a rocket attack on his LZ (landing zone). The first notice we got was a phone call from Seth in the middle of the night. He told them that James had been killed and that he, Seth, would be accompanying James's body home. Since I had picked up an extension, I heard everything. Every one of us was crying.

Seth did bring James home. He was buried in Andersonville National Cemetery with full honors. Seth stayed for 30 days before returning to Vietnam. Letters soon started to get further apart. From him, that is. I still wrote once a week.

He stayed in Vietnam until 1971. After bringing James home, he was long absent from here, Mobile (where we had moved to after James was killed).

Finally, in 1971, he returned home - such as it was. I don't think Mom and Dad ever recovered from James' death. He showed up on our doorstep, again in full uniform. By this time I was 19 and I know how to read ribbons. I couldn't believe it. He had a Distinguished Service Cross, two Silver Stars, 4 Bronze Stars and 6 Purple Hearts. Knew my parents couldn't read them so I kept my mouth shut. If Seth wanted them to know what they were, he'd tell them.

Unlike many, or most of my generation I was proud of Seth and every one of the guys in the military. I wasn't afraid to show it, so didn't make a lot of friends among students my age where protesting the war was a way of life.

Seth stayed less than his 30 days. I tried to be as close to him as I could but he wasn't the same Seth that left home at 17. There was still some of him but there was a remoteness that had never been there before. When I cried about James' death his comforting felt incomplete. Like it was expected of him. I knew he missed James: What brother doesn't miss his younger brother? I though even then that he was suppressing his emotions.

Seth was now stationed at the Mountain Ranger Camp in Dahlonega, GA. He stayed there until 1974 when the 2

nd

Ranger Battalion was activated and he moved to Washington State. He quietly finished out his enlistment and left the army as an SFC after 9 years. He was now 26.

I was 22 and was finishing up my senior year in college, got a degree in chemistry. Unmarried and no current boyfriend. Not that I had a lot of boyfriends ever. Every one of them was compared to Seth and found wanting. A lot of guys took it as a challenge and took a crack at me. None of them ever got close. Not that I was a virgin, it's just I never found anyone to fall in love with.

I was accepted for grad school at Indiana U. Seth sent me a letter that said he decided to go to school on the GI Bill. Major in chemistry. Asked me where he should go. I told him Indiana, of course.

He called me "OK, little sister."

He did indeed enroll there, so now we were in school together. Told him I would probably end up being his TA at some point. He just laughed.

With his GI bill and a 40% disability, he had enough to rent a small apartment. He suggested that we get a two-bedroom and share. That was fine with me because a graduate student stipend wasn't a whole lot of money.

There was a little uncertainty in the back of my mind. Seth was my adored brother but what Seth would I be living with? The one that I grew up with or the guy that spent almost five years in Vietnam? I had complete trust in the one that I grew up with. Will find out who I'm living with.

I knew he might have trouble adjusting. He was, after all, almost ten years older than most of his fellow students.

So, we both started that fall. I was on a research fellowship for the first two years, so wouldn't be a TA till year after next. Seth got signed up for freshman chemistry, calculus, English and a fluff course.

From the get go, Seth found it difficult to study. It had been nine years since he had studied in a school setting. I know he studied in the army. He was fluent in Vietnamese having taken a class in it and living with some Vietnamese. However, 15 credits was a difficult challenge. Guess he just forgot how to study efficiently.

Not long after classes started, I asked him "Need any help? Looks like you're having difficulty in calculus."

"Not just calc but also chem. English is easy, doesn't require much beyond reading."

"Well, let's see what I can do. Start with chem since that my best field."

We started to go over what was causing him difficulty. He actually caught on quickly once I had explained it in a different way than had the prof. Same thing with calc. I could see he clearly wasn't stupid or lacked the intellect, just missed the study skills. "Kasey, you make it sound easy. Your explanations are much better than the prof's. Wish you were my prof."

"Thanks, Seth. Appreciate it."

He always showed his appreciation for my help. A kiss on the cheek, a hug, or a hand over mine. Once after a difficult evening trying to get him ready for a calculus exam, he brought me flowers after he had done well on the exam. He even took me out for dinner. It almost felt like a date.

That's how we did things all that year. He still struggled a little but he managed to keep a B average for his freshman year.

Since I was in grad school, summer was just another term. Seth got a job in a warehouse where his strength was a very valuable asset. He was also a leader. The other men looked up to him. A little unusual, he was made a foreman on the evening shift. At the end of summer, they tried to convince him into staying on. He did give it some real thought but decided he wanted to stay in school. They did let him work part time, though.

I figured he'd have trouble with organic chemistry - the next chemistry class he'd need. I was wrong. He didn't have too much of a problem. "It's like a foreign language. Learn some reactions and the rules. Vietnamese was more difficult."

But then physics reared its head. Likewise, linear algebra and matrix theory. Again, he struggled and I helped.

Because we still shared an apartment, I kept noticing things from his days at war that initially I had hoped would vanish as time moved on. It was like a catalog of symptoms for PTSD: He was hyper alert, jumping at unexpected or loud noises, feeling uneasy in crowds, fireworks overhead issues and seeming withdrawn. I didn't dare wake him if he fell asleep on the sofa, except by calling his name. When we sat together on the sofa he couldn't abide my arm across his throat. I didn't hear any nightmares but he was certainly up and down at night. Most disconcerting was he couldn't get close to anyone, including me. He was my brother but there was a wall between us that I couldn't break.

He seldom dated. Besides the age difference between him and his classmates, he just wasn't very outgoing. I set him up with one of my grad student friends. They went out one time and that was it. I asked Seth why he didn't continue but he just shrugged. A couple of weeks later I asked Kathy why they didn't have second date.

She pulled me into a corner of the library. "Let me tell you what happened. Seth was really nice, polite and smiled a lot. Then when we were at dinner, my drunken ex found us sitting at the table. This asshole grabbed my shoulder and said "Come with me, bitch." He barely got the words out before Seth had his other arm in a hammerlock behind his back. He had the arm up so high the pain instantly made asshole let go of me. Seth quietly said "You need to leave." God, the way Seth said it! It was apparent that Seth would have killed him without hesitation or remorse. His was the coldest face on the planet. Eyes as dead as a shark's. Asshole turned white, instantly sober. As soon as Seth let go of his arm, he was gone. He was afraid to look back. Seth's face returned to its prior warmth. But his eyes took a while to lose that deadliness. I had goose pimples completely covering my body. If he'd have looked at me like that, I'd have pissed my pants. Told him I was so upset by the ex that I needed to go home. He said he understood. I'm sure he was hurt by that but all I could see was the look on his face and those eyes. I don't mean he's evil - far from it. Not sure he's completely human. Sorry. I know he's your brother but I just can't..."

"Kathy, I'm sorry, too. You know Seth spent almost five years in Vietnam, in the jungle. Guess he may need some more time to adjust."

"Kasey, you're my friend, so I'll be honest. I don't think Seth will ever lose that, ability, mode, or life-force, whatever you call it. If you stick with him don't ever let him get into a situation where he or somebody he's with is threatened."

This gave me a lot to think about. I've never seen Seth angry. I always thought that irrational anger was one of symptoms of PTSD that was always present. Now, it seems that perhaps he's just too controlled to explode. Holding back the anger. Maybe that's worse.

Not much else remarkable happened through his sophomore year. He managed to keep his grades up, with some help from me. I freely admit that I enjoyed helping him. I was starting to see my brother again under that hide of toughness. He was always gentle and caring with me but even I could see that he still had that hard case underneath. I was also starting to see him as a man. How could I not? He was big, fit and very good looking. He was always appreciative and never took me for granted. What woman wouldn't want that?

One nice spring Saturday I convinced him to come with me to the beach. Took a huge effort to get him there. Then took almost as much effort to get him to take off his t-shirt and go into the water. When he dropped his shirt, I stopped breathing. He had scars everywhere. Back, front, arms and legs. I started to cry for all the hurt he had suffered. He heard me gasp and turned to me "Guess now you see why I don't like to go to the beach. Scares even you."

As he reached for his shirt, I stopped him. "I'm not scared, only imagining how much you went through to get all those scars. I ache for you, my brother."

"If it bothers you, Kacey, think of what it does to everyone else around here."

"Fuck'em. Who cares what they think? Let's go in the water."

So I dragged all 6'3, 210 pounds in using all my 150 pounds to do it. My hands around his arm felt nothing but solid muscle. Shit, I don't think there's an ounce of fat on his whole body. Briefly a vision went through my mind: him pulling me tighter than a simple hug, his hard cock pressed against my stomach. Shook my head to clear it. Didn't completely work.

That day did help some. He now wasn't so determined to keep his shirt on when we were at home, either. I found it disturbing for other reasons. The scars just added character to his hot body. *Did I really think that thought?*

There was a veterans' club at the university. Seth would occasionally go to their gathering. Like most Vietnam vets, he had a poor opinion of the national veteran's organizations, so preferred to hang out with fellow Vietnam vets. The gathering was just a bunch of them at a local bar to have a few beers. I would sometimes go with him, as honorary vet. Not sure I ever saw him completely drunk. That reserve. There I met Steve Stewart who had served with Seth. Steve asked me out. Seth didn't have any issues with that. I had dated off and on the whole time we were living together, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary except that he knew Seth.

We went to dinner and then to a quiet bar. It was obvious that the only thing we had in common was Seth and that we weren't going anywhere with a relationship. Liked him as a friend. I started to ask him questions about Seth.

"What was it like being in Vietnam with Seth? You were both rangers?"

"We were. I don't think I should tell you much about being in the bush with Seth. You'll have to ask him. Except, there wasn't a better soldier than Seth. It was a privilege to have been on the same team with Seth. I can tell you with 100% certainty that Seth wasn't awarded nearly as many medals as he deserved. He never sought them and most guys respected that and didn't write him up. I guarantee you that I wouldn't be here today if Seth hadn't saved my ass on more than one occasion."

"How?"

"OK, an example. We were out on a patrol, all six of us, maybe 10 klicks from the Cambodian border. We bumped into a NVA platoon that was taking a break. Most of them were sound asleep, which is why we didn't see them till we were among them. The shit hit the fan! I got shot in the leg almost immediately. Seth picked me up, threw me over his shoulder. We took off. The RTO was calling for extraction but we had at least three klicks to go. Seth played rear guard, me over his shoulder. He'd set me down, move a little and open fire on them when they got too close. I tried to help by also shooting. He moved around a lot to keep the chasers off balance. Know he killed at least eight of them. He carried me all that time, never dropping me, even when he got a flesh wound in his side. It was the longest two hours on the face of the Earth. They did lift us out. Seth was the last one out. I spent a month in the hospital.

If anything was close to being right in the world, Seth should have been awarded the Medal of Honor. You know what Seth got?"

"What, a Silver Star?"

"No, not a fucking thing. He didn't even get another Purple Heart since he wasn't evacuated. The team wanted to put him in for the MoH but Seth asked us not to."

"Why would he do that?"

"A couple of reasons: He didn't really like being singled out. Thought he was just doing his duty. Second, if he was nominated for the MoH, they'd likely take him out of the field. Seth reasoned that he could best contribute by doing a good job and keeping everyone alive...So, that's your brother in a nutshell."

It was hard for me not to cry. "Thanks for telling me, Steve."

"I would do anything for him. Give my right nut..."

"He saved my ass another time, too. We were in a bar in the village. There were a whole bunch of REMFs and Remington Rangers there. Everyone had had a few and one of the REMFs started on about the glory boys in the rangers. Seth just ignored it - you know how quiet he is. I wasn't so smart so had words with the fucker. Words became fists. There were a whole lot more of them than there was of me. They never saw Seth coming. He waded into them and they went down like wheat being harvested. After a half dozen hit the floor or went over the bar, the rest scurried out like a covey of flushed quail. Seth may be quiet but that doesn't mean that you can get away with fucking with him...Well, you might get away with it but nobody else would."

"Steve, I was almost 14 when Seth joined the army. The Seth I knew then isn't the same one I know today. He's different. He's got this wall around him. I can't break it and I really want my brother back. Can you help me understand? You went through some of the same things."

"Kasey, not sure I can help but I owe Seth so much that I'm willing to try anything to help you help him...I'm sure I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, that Seth has PTSD big time. If he went to the VA to get evaluated, I'm sure it would be at 100%. He'll never go. He knows he has some symptoms of PTSD but believes he has it under control. He probably does - for now. He has an iron will that never quits. I think that at some point his control will go. I don't think he'll be one of these guys that blows his stack and starts shooting. Think he'll just fall apart, piece by piece."