Dear editor:
I am replying to a letter by Gene Forsyth in the March 23, 2015, edition of The Sentinel Record.
Gene, thank you for your well-thought out and written letter on the hidden cost of war. Yours was a letter most of us should have taken the time to write, but you did a better job than most of us would have done.
I am one of the unlucky -- lucky people you wrote about. Don't ever feel compelled to apologize for your disability pension. You far more than earned the small amount you received for your injuries. I went through a period of feeling the same way you did. I was first awarded a 20 percent rating. With further wounds and injuries -- and the gumption to face down the VA bureaucracy -- it was upped to 30 percent and 40 percent.
Several years ago, Congress redefined some of the criteria for eligibility for some of the problems I faced. I knew I should again fill out the VA forms and get my documentation together. Somehow, it just didn't seem right. I was messed up and hurt, but I could still walk and talk, and cope. I knew vets who were much worse off than I was, so I let things slide. Two years ago, I finally realized that I owed it to my wife who lived with -- and without me when I was off at war -- to see that she was financially taken care of when the inevitable occurred. The VA surprised me. They took only eight or nine months to process everything, and rather than the additional 10-20 percent I had expected, it was 100 percent with special circumstances.
War costs far more than mere money! When our daughters were teenagers we decided it was time for a vacation in D.C. We had fun with all the normal tourist attractions. In the back of my mind the whole trip was The Memorial and did I have guts enough to face my fears. I put it off until our last day in D.C., and then I stood to attention and marched toward those black stones with ALL THOSE NAMES -- about 230 with special meaning to me. I certainly didn't have time to look up everyone (the names are in order of day and time of death -- so that people who died together are together forever). I located the first panel containing several names and put my hands on the names -- three words, catharsis and welcome home.
When I got back to where my wife was standing, she was in tears and when I looked over to where she was looking, there was a young veteran kneeling at the base of one of the panels bawling his eyes out and his son about 2 to 3 years old was patting his dad on the shoulder saying, "Don't cry Dad, it'll be all right." So visceral it was just ripping my wife's guts out.
Sherman sugar coated it. War is absolute hell!
David M. "Mike" Dacus
Hot Springs
Editorial on 03/26/2015