I met Chuck in 1969.  He was working as a truck driver for Coke Cola, and I was a waitress at the Westend Diner.  Chuck would come in the diner every Friday for breakfast.  I always thought he was cute, well groomed, and in great shape.  I couldn’t keep my eyes off of his powerful forearms.  We soon became very close.  I remember always being excited on Friday’s because I knew Chuck would come to the diner for breakfast.                           The day Chuck asked me out on a date was probably one of the greatest days of my life.  I get tingling all over again just thinking about it.  That first date, Chuck took me to the state fair.  I remember Chuck won a few stuffed animals for me.  He knocked down bottles, rang a bell on the hammer game, pitched nickels in cups, shot baskets, and he was successful playing a few other games that night.  He was powerful, athletic, and graceful.  I was sure I had found my prince charming.

We got married in the Summer of 1970 and immediately moved in with his parents until we could afford our own place.  Chuck’s father was a truck driver, so his parents stayed on the road a lot.  Their home felt like it belonged to us.  Chuck and I were always careful to mind their home with care.

Those early days were wonderful.  Chuck was attentive to my needs, he was thoughtful, gentle, and a hardworking man.  I knew it would be a matter of time before we had our own place to raise a family  However, that had to wait.                                                                                                                   December 2, 1970, Chuck received his draft notice.  I cried for two weeks knowing that Chuck would be headed to Vietnam.  Chuck would hold me every night until I fell asleep.  He made me feel comfortable and safe.  Chuck made me feel like Vietnam would not be a place that would hurt him.  A part of me knew Chuck would be ok in Vietnam.  He was strong willed and physically a powerful man.

Chuck left for the Army in April 1971.  Again, I cried every night.  I wrote Chuck two or three letters every week.  He was real good at writing back until he left for Vietnam.  When he got to Vietnam, his letters to me practically stopped.  I kept writing him.  I felt like he needed to get letters from me to keep up his morale and spirits.  When Chuck wrote letters to me about Vietnam, he always wrote about how bored he was.  The theme of Chuck’s letters always stated that he was bored, hungry, and sweaty.  In one letter Chuck told me he hadn’t taken a bath in three months.  A part me of wanted to believe his every word, another part of me knew that Chuck did not want me to worry.                                                                                                    When Chuck discharged from the Army it was a great day for me and the family.  He had survived and was home safe.  I was anxious to show Chuck all of the things I had learned while he was away.  I was excited to spend time with him again.                                                                                                                  The first week back home, it was pretty evident that Chuck had changed.  For starters, at night, instead of holding me, he would put pillows between us.  He clearly separated my part of the bed from his part.  I didn’t understand why he did that, but I didn’t question it.  What I did question was Chuck getting up every night to check the windows and doors.  He looked under the bed, in the closets, the cabinets, all the rooms, and the perimeter of the house before he went to bed.  I always tried to remind Chuck that no one was trying to break in the house and kill us.  Chuck said he could not take the chance that we made a mistake in being safe.  Chuck never went to bed without checking all the locks, and making sure his rifle was loaded.

Back then, to help Chuck cope with being home, I thought it was a good idea to take him to places where he could spend time with people.  I thought if he could spend time around people he could see that most were safe and not out to hurt him.  That backfired!  Chuck did not trust anyone.  He would tell me that he learned in Vietnam that people could not be trusted.                                                                                       After Chuck started having nightmares that’s when I knew we needed professional help.  So I asked Chuck go to the local Veterans Affairs office to get help.  When I was finally able to manipulate him into going, he came home so angry I thought he was going to hurt someone, mainly me.  Chuck said that the VA did not care about him, all they wanted was to go home.

This has gone on years and years.  His nightmares have slowed down some, but now he gets angry easily, he still doesn’t trust people, and he comes off cold and distant.  He used to be gentle, now he shows no emotions.  He used to be supportive, now he acts like he doesn’t care.  The worst part of all is when I have to find Chuck around our property.  Last month, I found him bunkered near a tree looking angry and confused.  He didn’t want to tell me, but he admitted that he was protecting us from Viet Cong troops.                                                                                                            Chuck is hurting badly, and I hurt for him.  He left the war years ago, but the war is still inside him.  Can you help?

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