PTSD? Vets and Dogs Team Up

Can Veterans and Dogs Team Up To Help Each Other?

Please consider joining in a study of dog adoption for Veterans with PTSD, a collaborative project of the VA and the San Antonio Humane Society.

What is the Goal of the Study?

Many Veterans with PTSD have told us how much they have been helped by having a dog.  

We are interested in examining the potential benefits for Veterans with PTSD of adopting a pet dog from the San Antonio Humane Society.  

Our project, "A Study of Dog Adoption in Veterans with Postraumatic Stress Disorder," is funded by the Rehabilitation Research and Development Office of the Department of Veterans Affairs.

Being in the study is entirely voluntary.  You are free not to participate and may withdraw from the study at any time.

Who is Eligible for the Study?

Veterans with PTSD who have had a dog previously, but have not had a pet in the past 12 months. There are also other requirements, which the staff of the study will be glad to discuss with you.

I would love a home

What Does the Study Consist of?

Half the Veterans will be randomly assigned, like the flipping of a coin, to adopt a dog immediately, while the other half will adopt a dog after three months. The adoption fee will be waived. 

Veterans will select the dog of their choice (some restrictions apply, such as animal ages and breeds), and participate in eight weeks of obedience training at no charge. 

There will be five visits to the Audie L. Murphy VA Hospital over the course of six months, each lasting 1-2 hours, 3 scheduled home visits, and 2 veterinary clinic visits, as well as brief phone calls between the visits. 

Veterans will be responsible for the costs of caring for their pet, except for veterinary care, which will be provided free of charge.

Will I be Paid for My Time?

Yes.  Veterans can receive up to $490 for completing the 6-month study.  Payments will be made regularly as parts of the study are completed.

I need someone to love

Will being in the Study Affect the Treatments I receive for my PTSD?

Not at all.  Veterans will continue to receive whatever treatments their mental health provider feels are most appropriate for their PTSD.

What are the Risks of the Study?

The chief risks are fatigue, or inconvenience, veterans might experience from participating in the study visits.

What Are The Benefits?

Veterans who participate may experience a decrease in their PTSD symptoms and an improvement in their quality of life. 

 Although we cannot guarantee any benefits, all participants will have the satisfaction of knowing that they are helping the many other Veterans with this disorder while giving a home to a homeless animal.

Am I Required to Participate?

No.  Being in the study is entirely voluntary.  You are free not to participate and may withdraw from the study at any time.

Aren't I adorable?

How Do I Learn More About the Study?

Please call:

Dr. Ana Allegretti
Study Coordinator
(210) 617-5300, Ext. 16079
SAhumane.org/PTSD

Contributed to Memoirs From Nam By:
Tony Lobello
Public Affairs Officer
District 20, Texas VFW

***Thank you, Tony!  This is such a worthwhile study and I am proud to do what I can to get the word out there. ~a big hug, CJ


“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

Do you have an opinion, or a comment, you would like to share about this post? Click on the comment button.

Boots: by Lee Tucker

Boots at The Wall

As a Vietnam Veteran, I share many feelings with so many others.

We all served our country at a time when many of our countrymen didn’t agree with the war, or our participation.

Some of us volunteered, others were drafted, but all of us landed in the same country to fight the same enemy.

There are those who believe that their part in the war was more significant than others.

There are those who feel guilty for coming home alive, instead of in a body bag.

All of us are confused as to why we were shunned and protested against for serving our country.

All of us are Vietnam Veterans…

The military, like any machine, can only work when all of its parts are functioning the way they were designed. This includes all of its different branches: Infantry, Artillery, Naval Support, Air Support, Medical Support, and so many others, right down to the mechanics and company clerks. Without every single person involved, the machine will not function at full capacity…

Each Veteran was processed in country the very same way, and given their orders to a specific area to serve within the confines of their MOS. We were issued gear that included Jungle Boots that we would all wear for the time we spent in country.

And so, life in Vietnam began…

I was assigned to the 25th Infantry Division at Cu Chi. It was January of 1968. I was about to understand the full effect of “Tet”…

Being assigned to a mechanized infantry unit, we spent the majority of our time patrolling the rubber plantations along the Cambodian Border.

There are many stories of horror and heroism and just plain Hooah-ism that I could write about, but all of us have stories that we either share, or keep to ourselves. My story here is short and heart felt…

To all of you who have taken a bullet, watched a fellow soldier die, survived a human wave attack, survived mortar and rocket attacks, fired those big guns that scared the hell out of everybody, saved a soldier's life in the field, or in a field hospital...

To those who came out of nowhere and swooped down from the sky to get us out of bad situations…

To those who flew over us and dropped bombs on areas so we could continue our mission…

To those who processed our orders, coming and going…

To everyone who wore the Boots, I say thank you… 

Boots at The Wall

No one else could have felt your fear, or your pride, only you, when you laced up those Boots every day…

We all should be proud of our service. No one else walked in your Boots. No one else has the right to judge your importance.

Thank you all for your service to our country.

Welcome Home Brothers and Sisters…

Lee Tucker,
United States Army
Republic of Vietnam
January 1968 to January 1969



“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

Do you have an opinion, or a comment, you would like to share about this post? Click on the comment button.

The Last Fire Base: by Michael Lansford

Michael Lansford

I remember it was late November, cold and raining. The monsoon season had really set in. Everyone was miserable. Nothing was dry, except our weapons and ammo -- priorities one must have.

I was getting close to my DEROS date of 13 December 1969, when the "new" captain came up with this grand plan to make a raid into the Ashau Valley to stop Charlie's resupply to the south via the Ho Chi Minh Trail.

Suddenly, through a break in the rain, along came the flying cranes and Chinooks to extract us to some remote tip of a mountain on the edge of the Valley.

We barely had time to grab our weapons. We had no food, rain gear, nothing, as it was a one-day raid designed to catch the enemy off guard -- they said. This was on 1 December 1969.

Well, as things usually went with the new captain, he sat three 155 split trails down on this pinpoint mountaintop that was so small that all three guns were butted up to each other. There was zero room to do anything.

When we started firing the trails, we tried to dig in, but the other guns were blocking the recoil, so we had to improvise. That made for a fun day. Nothing we tried worked and if the firing continued, the recoil would shove the other guns down the cliffs. We had no way to secure them, plus it was raining in sheets by then. It's hard, if not impossible, to dig in to a muddy, rain-soaked cliff side.

The only blessing came from the monsoon, as it suddenly became too severe to even walk, plus we were on top of a mountain with no cover, no food, rain gear, dry clothing, nothing. We had no back up, or air support. We were on our own.

The bad thing about being on a mountain top in a monsoon storm, you suddenly become the target of all that Mother Nature has and can throw at you in the way of torrential rain and lightning -- and we were cold, soaked, hungry, and alone.

I remember it was so cold, and raining so hard, that the only way we kept reasonably warm was by sitting down in the muddy water-filled trench we had dug to protect ourselves in case of attack. That was a hard way to stay warm -- not dry -- just warmer, but those weapons stayed dry, no matter what. Priorities.

About the FNG's, you could always tell who they were during monsoon season. They were the only ones walking around with weapons exposed to the elements and all barrels were facing straight up into the rain. Not a good idea. We always slung weapons barrel-down in bad weather, for many reasons, all self-explanatory. They were little things that could become big things in a firefight.

Lightning was the worst. There was no place to hide or defend from, just pray. It hit so close, it made the hair on your arms stand straight out. You could feel the static in the air. It was a helpless feeling.

As time went on, we waited for a break in the weather just to find a way out of there, as the longer we stayed, the closer the enemy came and we were easy pickings up there. One mortar in the right place and Boom -- we were gone. Our other choice was to get the mission done and really get out fast.

The monsoon had other ideas. We were stranded there until 12 December, when the weather finally broke. In between time, we dodged sniper fire and some mortar fire, which luckily for us the rain helped with. They missed their targets, except for this one lucky shooter who was walking mortars up the side of the mountain removing pieces of the cliffs as he fired.

Our firing positions were dug into the side of the mountain and as the lucky shooter walked the rounds up the side of the mountain, the ground became more and more unstable. All of a sudden, I heard this whishing sound coming in right on top of us. All I could do was close my eyes and pray. I heard the round hit with a loud thud.

When I opened my eyes, a dud round was sitting right there between my legs. There it was, that being in the right place at the right time thing again.

Here I was short and shouldn't even be out there and I was dealing with this nightmare. They had us zeroed, cut off, and they knew it. Easy pickings. Our only advantage was, it was almost straight up the mountain to reach us, which gave us a slight edge. It's hard to fight uphill.

Combat Tactics 101: Always have high ground, no matter how small, or slight. Just have that edge.

Finally, after our one-day raid had turned into a twelve-day and night survival trip, we were getting off that mountaintop. The downside was, the enemy knew our situation as well as we did. We took rounds, it seemed like, from everywhere. Luckily for us, it was hard for them to shoot straight up and the next mountain over was just far enough away to give us even more edge -- plus they didn't shoot well either.

The most dangerous part was the extraction. Naturally, the guns got out first. They couldn't afford to waste taxpayers' money on good weapons. We, on the other hand, were a little more expendable. So what if we lose a few grunts and arty men. No big deal. We'll get some more. There are lots more where they came from anyway.

Finally, we managed to keep Charlie busy long enough for the last of us to get our ride out. We took rounds in the choppers, but no one got hit. I'm still amazed how we got out alive.

We landed back at the fire base we started from, Zon, if my memory serves me, and I had just enough time to grab what little I had, say a hasty goodbye, and I was out as fast as I had come in.

C-130 Vietnam Transport

I turned in my weapons, clothes, and whatever else they thought I didn't need -- no time to eat or clean up. I just caught that C-130 south to Cam Rahn Bay to start processing out. Then I took my freedom bird home ...well, home as I remembered it.

Later, I was told, but can't confirm, that my last fire base, Zon, was overrun right after I left. There were lots of casualties, almost everyone KIA. It gave me an empty feeling, thinking If I were still there, maybe, just maybe, I could have helped. I never heard anything else about it -- that's some more of that ole right time, right place thing again.

Man was I mistaken about home. As we all learned, the war didn't end when we left. Suddenly we had (and still have) new enemies to fight, just with different weapons. It was a fight harder to win than Vietnam ever was, yet I don't think there were many plans to win. It was just business, you know.

Sin Loi, as I said, "Sorry About That" ...

It feels good to be writing about all this and maybe by writing, help someone else deal with our war better. Kind of like the old days, watching out for each other. That part I miss, not being there for my comrades.

Thanks, Mrs. Heck.  We've all carried a lot of stuff around these long many years with no one, or no way, to tell our stories. The public should know the real us. We paid for it.



“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

Do you have an opinion, or a comment, you would like to share about this post? Click on the comment button.

Sayings and Poems: by Michael Lansford

Michael Lansford in Country - Cobra

Here are a few sayings, poems, and verses I've had with me all these years.

Some are my writings, some borrowed, but all are profound thoughts.

PATTERNS

The night is setting softly
with the hush of falling leaves;
the light from a street lamp
paints a pattern on the wall;
Like the pieces of a puzzle
or a child's uneven scrawl;
Up a narrow flight of stairs
in a narrow little room;
as I lie upon my bed
in the early evening gloom;
From the moment of my birth
to the instant of my death;
there are patterns I must follow
just as I must breathe each breath;
and the pattern still remains
on the wall where darkness fell;
and it's fitting that  it should be
for in darkness I must dwell;
Impaled there on my Wall,
my eyes can dimly see;
the Patterns of my life
and the puzzle that is me;
Like a rat within a maze;
the path before me lays;
and the pattern never alters;
Until the rat dies.
Like the color of my skin;
or the day that I grow old,
My life is made of Patterns
that can scarcely be controlled.



JUST A MAN

Take man, put him alone,
put him 12,000 miles from home.
Empty his heart of all but blood,
Make him live in sweat and mud.
This is the life that I too live
and why my soul to the Devil I give.
You Peace Boys,
not in your easy chairs,
but you don't know
what it's like over here.
You have a ball without near trying,
while over here your boys are dying.
You burn your draft cards,
march at dawn, plant your signs
on the White House lawn.
You want to ban the bomb;
There's no war in Vietnam.
Use your drugs, have more fun,
and then refuse to use the guns.
There's nothing else for you to do,
and I'm suppose to die for you?
I'll hate you til the day I die,
You make me hear my buddy cry.
I saw his arm a bloody shred,
I hear them say, "This Man is Dead".
It's a hard price he had to pay
not to live another day.
He had the guts to fight and die.
He paid the price,
but what did he buy?
He bought your life by losing his,
But who cares what a soldier gives?
His wife does, parents, and even sons,
But they're about the only ones.



WHAT WE REALLY WANT

We want people to remember
we fought for our country.
and never forget it;
We Won't.
When we get out of uniform
we want to go home
to more than nothing,
We don't want sympathy
or charity.
We want a decent job.
We want to be able to get married
and support a family.
We don't expect miracles,
but we won't settle for a broom.
If people think there's nothing
they can do to help
they should think harder.
Because we thought enough
of our people and country
to come over here.
Some don't agree with this war
and our being here,
But the majority are on our side.
Our fathers and forefathers before us
had the courage
to stand up for what was right
and we don't think we're so good
that we don't have to do our part.
We don't ask for glory or praise.
All we want
is to be treated equal
and stand among the bravest men.



AND THE WAR GOES ON

People march, picket signs in hand,
Yet Vietnam is not a free land.
They'd rather protest
and march in vain.
instead of stand up and fight
for our country's name.
They'd rather pay the price of a beer,
than spend a year for the price
of freedom which is so dear.
They fight their battles
on campus streets,
while the soldier must fight
in the jungle heat.
The cost of freedom
is ever so high,
but why care a protester,
he doesn't have to die.
War is Hell
as the saying goes,
but burning a draft card
is all he knows.
He marches with sign
from dark til dawn.
But to us over here
the war goes on.
We sit and wonder
day and night,
somewhere back home
someone is right.
We fight the war
so everyone will be shown
that it's hard to be free
and be left alone.
We didn't ask for this war over here
Now we know what freedom is
so why don't you care?
Why condemn what we do,
Be glad we're here in place of you.
We're the ones who fight and die,
and protesters will never know why.
We fought for freedom
this very day
with hopes this war will end soon
so we can go away.

10 July 69.



THE VIETNAM WAR

People of the world talk about this place,
to them it's just a political race.
They laugh and scorn the Viet Cong.
They're not here, what could be wrong?
You read the news from day to day,
and hardly notice
a soldiers life was taken away.
He fought the war and played the game,
but win or lose, he died the same.
Rockets, mortars are still coming down,
they don't care where they hit the ground.
You hear them fall from the sky and pray,
Dear God, don't let me die today.
You dig in the ground for a place to stay
and hope the falling death will pass away.
Peace talks go on but all in vain.
The war only slows for the rain.
Men are still dying in this war,
and you think, "What am I really fighting for?"
To the politicians it's just a game,
but to us Vets here it's war just the same.
You sit and watch your buddies die.
But you're a man now so you can't cry.
No one knows why he was killed.
But who cares, his place will be filled.
So each one that dies over here
gives us more hate and a little less fear.
You learn to kill and never cry,
then you stop to think, "Why, God, Why?
Why should I take his life in my hand,
just because I was put in this mans land?"
But they want to kill us anyway,
they couldn't do it yesterday
so they'll try again today.
He's getting smarter than a Fox.
We want to go home alive,
he wants us in a box.
So you politicians
take notice to this place,
It's no game or political race.
It's war, man, as far as you can see,
that's the way we feel, the enemy and me.
Each day the politicians grow bigger,
they just use us to pull the trigger.
So for now we'll fight
for our so-called government at home.
But all we want is peace and quiet,
and to be left alone.
So laugh at this place
while you still can
and be glad friend this war
isn't in your own land.

18 June 69


Michael "Surfer" Lansford
2nd Batallion
"Bravo" Battery
11th Artillery
155 split trails
101st Airborne
Viet Nam 68-69
Hamburger Hill 10 May-21 May 69.



“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

Do you have an opinion, or a comment, you would like to share about this post? Click on the comment button.

A Couple of Stories: by Michael Lansford

Michael Lansford

Here’s another one of my stories about timing and being in the right place at the right time. This incident was about when I used to go out with the LRRP teams on our fire base.

Strangely enough, I liked walking point. But this one day, one of the guys talked me into letting him walk it.

We had made about ten yards when I heard a click. All I remember was putting my hands up and covering my face and boom he was gone. A pressure mine went off.

He took most of the hit, but I got my hand sliced and a deep cut across the side of my face and chin. Took twenty-seven stitches on the side, twenty on my chin, and fourteen under my chin. Plus, I lost one side of my jaw teeth -- instant dental work.

The mines were the type that if you stepped on them, they wouldn't go off, unless you changed the weight on the button on top. I still think of that day also. Like I said, there are lots of untold stories, but I am doing better.

I also remember this one guy who stepped on one of those and all he could do was stand there. There was no way to get him off without major injuries. Back then, choppers couldn't get there fast enough. So in this particular case, and it would have been the same for me, you have to decide when to step off, or try and jump off, but there was nowhere to jump fast enough.

You and only you decided when you wanted to leave. No one has ever known what I just told you until now either. I remember it like it was yesterday, and always will.

More unknown names, but the faces and situations I remember very clearly. Most of us didn't use names much when we were out there anyway. On most patrols, everyone removed any and all items that would identify us, in case we ever got caught. I even had a plan for that, but luckily I never had to use that trick, thank God.

Just thought of something interesting that happened recently. I play a lot of golf with many people and about six months ago, this man showed up and started playing in our semi-regular game.

After a few times showing up, I noticed he was wearing a hat that said 101st Airborne. We chatted a little and I found out he was at the same place and time that I was at the Hill.

It took a few months and we never talked about anything we did, when one day right after we finished our round, he asked me if we could talk in private. This was humbling to me.

He asked me if I made it to the top of Hamburger Hill, to which I said I did. He said he felt guilt and shame, because he was only there one day before he was hurt and flown to the Hospital ship named "Hope" just off the coast of the gulf of Tonkin.

He told me all of his platoon was KIA except him. He felt he had let them down. I told him the top of the hill didn't look much different than the bottom did.  All I could tell him was, by him being there even one day probably saved more lives than he could ever know -- each day was all we had.  I feel we are all here for a reason -- maybe we just don't know that reason yet.

He was as withdrawn as myself and he has carried that around all these years like I have. He said no one has ever known a thing, not even his wife and grown son.  I told him my friends and family didn't know either, until recently, when I started to write it all down here in the blog -- but they will love you just the same.

I told him I'm writing about my experiences to help others (like me) who haven't been able to talk about it either. I want people to know what all we did that has gone unnoticed all these years.  Also to educate the public, so they will know the truth, not just believe what they were all told about us and the war.  I guess I found my reason, or at least a part of it.

He told me he saw me always wearing my Vietnam Veteran hat and after knowing where I was, he knew he could talk to me because I would understand everything -- and I do. Now he talks to me about our war every time we see each other at the golf course. It’s a connection we will always have as friends and a brotherhood that is forever.

CJ, your quote at the end of all our writings about how we are just one, but we are one, is right on. In my own case, it all has come true. Now he and I help each other. That’s a very profound statement you chose for the end of our writings and I am living proof of that now. I would have never known.

Anyway, just a few more things remembered. Others have stories like mine, but all have different feelings inside and different ways to say the same things. I guess that's what makes each of us unique in some way. 

You make life work as best you can. For me it's either get busy living, or get busy dying. I choose the first one. The second one can wait in line.

Thanks again for everything, CJ. You're the best, Always.

Michael "Surfer" Lansford
2nd Batallion
"Bravo" Battery
11th Artillery
155 split trails
101st Airborne
Viet Nam 68-69
Hamburger Hill 10 May-21 May 69.


“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

Do you have an opinion, or a comment, you would like to share about this post? Click on the comment button.

Old Glory: by Chuck Norris

Chuck Norris Believes in Old Glory

This is reprinted from Inquisitr: July 9, 2014.  Someone emailed it to me.

Chuck Norris: American Flag Haters Prove The U.S. Has ‘Gone Awry’

American flag haters better watch out, because they may have a near-Chuck Norris experience that even death fears. 

Norris is angry that American flags are considered “offensive” by some people in the United States, and when Chuck Norris gets angry… run. After all, this is the man who cuts a knife with hot butter.

In a related report by The Inquisitr, Chuck Norris is upset with President Obama for swapping Bowe Bergdahl for those five Taliban prisoners. The martial arts expert, who thinks he would have been great at MMA and UFC, also believes how American veterans are being treated is disgraceful.

Now it’s well known that if you stare long enough at a 3D photo of an American flag then the image of Chuck Norris appears. This is probably the reason he loves Israel. 

Unfortunately, it appears as if the American flag is under attack from many corners nowadays. One Florida veteran may lose his home due to proudly displaying an American flag in front of his house. 

One man painted a giant American flag on his house in protest after receiving several fines from the city. A shocking poll also found that many liberals and progressives do not consider themselves proud to be an American.

There are even reports that American flags were removed because Muslim communities found them to be “offensive” to their beliefs. 

When the busloads of illegal immigrants were being blocked in California by rallies, it’s claimed that supporters of the illegal aliens burned American flags in protest. 

During the Fourth of July weekend, there was also a rash of thefts involving American flags, and even one flag given to a 9/11 firefighter’s family was stolen.

Like many Americans, Mr. Norris is livid at all this recent news, and he took social media to a nuclear bomb equivalent to put this opinion down:

“Am I missing something? Do you remember the days when Americans not only used to be proud to fly Old Glory, but frowned upon neighbors who did not?

These flag-flying travesties wouldn’t be so tragic if they weren’t becoming so prevalent and symptomatic of an America gone awry from its original mission and founders’ intent.

So, for this July 4, I say we not only fly Old Glory proud and high but also remind our families, friends, co-workers and neighbors exactly why we do.

And what about those who oppose Old Glory’s posting?  

Take your orders and never forget the words of Gen. Douglas MacArthur: ‘I see that the old flagpole still stands. Have our troops hoist the colors to its peak, and let no enemy ever haul them down.’ 

Then don’t hesitate for a moment to place your hand over your heart and say loud and proud for all to hear: ‘I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.’”  --Chuck Norris

Do you agree with Chuck Norris about American flags?



Category: Politics

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

Do you have an opinion, or a comment, you would like to share about this post? Click on the comment button.