I grew up just after the Second World War.  At that time, soldiers were coming back from overseas battles with little to say.  Later, in my own military career, I saw things in Viet Nam that I have never discussed.  Perhaps with fellow warriors, but otherwise no.  As time moved on, I came to know Germans who, only after many years of confidences, began to open up to what they had experienced as children during their war.  All together, I have learned that such reticence is a typical reaction of people whose lives were shaken to their cores.

Today, we talk about PTSD.  During WW I, it was called shell shock; the next wars called it battle fatigue.  It’s all the same stuff.  The human psyche simply shuts down until the torment is either released or just buried.  “Seemingly buried” perhaps might be a better word for it.  Many times lives continue as though nothing had happened.  Astonishingly, most of the time, this apparent calm is all that is seen, even by the person dealing with it.  But, it’s always there.  It’s always working on the soul in some fashion or another.  It’s always slipping out into the open leaving small clues of its existence.  We see it in irritability, suspicion, homelessness, violent nightmares, alcoholism, whatever.  It’s there.

Readers of my book, Old Ghosts, and now, my new book,  Days of Atonement,  can see this theme of spiritual torment being replayed.  In both cases, these characters found relief only by being forced to talk with friends and lovers who demanded these demons be exorcised.  In both cases, Joe Brown and Lech Karnski were career soldiers who survived many battles while seeing friends and enemies die.  Life was sweet, but Death was so sudden.  There was so little time to say good-bye.  But, they carried on stocially until they could go no further.  They had to talk, and then they had to act.  Joe became a PTSD counselor, and Lech became a rabbi.  Only then could they go continue their lives with a sense of positive purpose.

Of course, war is dramatic.  It’s the stuff of legend.  But, torment can come in many ways.  Hurricane Katrina destroyed homes and lives.  The Ebola outbreak in Africa tore children, fathers and mothers from each other.  A person suddenly paralyzed never to walk again.  These are all sudden and tormenting occasions for bitterness, despair, and bewilderment. The results can be as deadly as if they were suffered in the midst of battle for indeed that is what these occasions are: a battle for life.

Perhaps all of these stories, mine and those of unknown others, are testaments to the strength of the human spirit. Ghosts haunt people for years as they carry on with their daily lives.  But, perhaps a greater testament is how these souls are finally able to address their fears and then rise to a higher plane of spiritual existence.  Such were the cases of Joe and Lech.  Such has been the case of every veteran who served in combat.  Such has been the case of anyone who has suffered an earth shattering disaster.  These millions of people…going on, carrying on, caring for others, and giving to those in need even as their own souls cry out for relief.  If my stories have any relevance, it is in homage to all of these people who are quiet heroes doing simple deeds of good to their fellows.