“This insistence on treating veterans as objects of pity plays out in our national dialogue as well, whether it is Bill Maher saying on his April 4 HBO show, “Anytime you send anyone to war, they come back a little crazy,” or a Washington Times article about PTSD claiming that, “Roughly 2.6 million veterans who serve in Iraq and Afghanistan suffer from PTSD-type symptoms.” That is roughly the total number of veterans who served, which suggests that the reporter thought there might be a 100% saturation rate of PTSD among veterans.”
Mr. Klay served in the U.S. Marine Corps from 2005 to 2009, including a tour of duty in Iraq from January 2007 to February 2008. He is the author of “Redeployment,” a short-story collection recently published by the Penguin Press.
A couple of years ago, I spoke at a storytelling competition about some Marines I’d known during our deployment in Iraq and my feelings on getting out of the Corps. After I left the stage, an older woman in the crowd came up to me and, without asking, started rubbing my back. Startled, I looked over at her. “It was very brave of you to tell that story,” she said.
“Oh, thank you,” I said, a little confused by what was happening. “I’m OK.”
She smiled sympathetically but didn’t stop. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I turned to watch the next performer—and she remained behind me, rubbing me down as if I was a startled horse in a thunderstorm.
It was my first really jarring experience with an increasingly common reaction to my war stories: pity. I never thought anyone would pity me because of my time in the Marine Corps. I’d grown up in the era of the Persian Gulf War, when the U.S. military shook off its post-Vietnam malaise with a startlingly decisive victory and Americans eagerly consumed stories about the Greatest Generation and the Good War through books like “Citizen Soldiers” by Stephen Ambrose and movies like “Saving Private Ryan.” Joining the military was an admirable decision that earned you respect.
Early on in the Iraq war, after I accepted my commission in 2005, most people did at the very least seem impressed—You ever fire those huge machine guns? Think you could kick those dudes’ asses? Did you kill anyone? I’d find myself in a bar back home on leave listening to some guy a few years out of college explaining apologetically that, “I was totally gonna join the military, you know, but…” The usual stereotype projected onto me was that of a battle-hardened hero, which I’m not.