Why Most Veterans Don’t Tell War Stories
A firsthand account of the horrors soldiers keep to themselves
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you’ll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.
— Siegfried Sassoon, “Suicide In The Trenches”
The deep divots in the wall accentuated the blood splattered everywhere. It looked like a child had flung cans of paint across the room, which drank in the color. Bits of human remains coated the floor. Some men retched. Others — like me — couldn’t turn away from the horror. A few victims had been decapitated, and someone had strewn their organs along the streets. The entire police force — along with 20 people — were dead. A day earlier, 70 to 200 al-Qaeda, Taliban, and corrupt locals launched an attack against the village of Bermel, Afghanistan. By the time I arrived the following day, the scene had became something we spoke about in whispers. We labeled that day the “Bermel Massacre.”
Try as I might, I cannot recall most of this incident. I have one vague memory of pulling a human tooth from a bloody wall. Even today, I’m uncertain of the image, as it feels like a dream. The macabre event did happen, though. My mind just refuses to recall it.
